Page 72 of Night of Death and Flowers

Is this Tenenocti? It looks so similar, yet so different, as if something has drained the island of life. I pause, holding my hands over my abdomen, my stomach churning.

Something isn’t right.

Goosebumps prick over my arms. I blink slowly, taking in the monotone world. Remembrance flickers in my mind again, and a curtain lifts in my mind. I swallow hard as decay magic spills from my heart, through my veins, seeping into every limb. My eyes bulge as I extend my hands, watching the dark gray covering my skin.

My lips part as I clutch the sides of my head. I clamp my eyes shut as visions flash through my mind. Azkiel’s face haunts my thoughts—those silver eyes crowned with concern—then Astraea, who is even more vibrant than her portrait in the church, with her long, dusky blue hair. Every inch of her shimmers, as if she is made from stardust.

Then, Cyna’s green, pointed eyes, reflecting my sins back to me, instill guilt into my heart. “Stop!” I yell as the puzzle pieces of the vision, or memories, cascade upon me.

Wake up. Wake up.

“Murder becomes you,” Cyna’s low, steady voice booms. “Essentria was wrong. You always belonged to Death.”

Death? As in Azkiel? Why the fuck is the God of Judgment here?

My eyes fling open, and I whip my head around, the decay magic thrumming stronger than ever, so much that I fear I can’t contain it. Guilt shreds every survival instinct into ribbons until it is all I can think about.

I clench my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t shatter, and with trembling arms and a quaking chest, I spot Cyna standing in my peripheral vision.

I spin to face him, a sob heaving from my sore throat. I open my mouth, but the words are smothered by the overwhelming grief, pushing through any desire to ignore it, to bury it.

“You do not belong in this world, Calista,” Cyna states, and I glare at him, every instinct in my body screaming at me to run as he strides forward, the grass crunching beneath his leather boots. His dark tunic is brought to life by the emeralds sewn around the corner, and his groomed, dark beard runs into his short, slicked-back hair.

“What do you mean?” A lump forms in my throat, and I try to swallow hard to remove it. Every breath is a labor, and I drop to my knees.

He crouches, his fingers curling around the knees of his black breeches. “You must accept your fate. Too many lives have been lost shielding you from it.”

A thousand thoughts scatter through my mind. I steady my breathing, despite the guilt cutting into my mind like smothering smoke. “Who’s lives? What fate?” I question, growing desperate for answers.

He leans closer, the smell of pine and polish emanating from his clothes. His moss-green eyes swirl, as if they contain an entire universe, and I am entranced. “You are a murderer.”

“Yes,” I reply, then slowly rise, finding strength despite the residual guilt shaking my bones. Cyna’s mocking smile evokes contempt. “Why are you in my dream? What do you want with my sister?”

He tilts his head, then stands, towering over me. “It seems you’re smarter than my brother. No wonder he is so taken with you.”

My eyes widen. “You are mistaken. He hates me.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Do you trust Death?”

I lick my lips, hesitant for a moment. “I trust him more than you,” I admit, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “Although you are all monsters.”

His discerning stare travels down to my fingers. “No, it is you who are the monster,” he spits, grimacing, and a low growl reverberates in his chest. I hold my breath as he grabs my arm, his fingernails cutting into my skin. I stare into his eyes, the green mixing with veins of red and gold. “For your sins, you will be dragged to the darkest reaches of the Darklands.”

“You will never fucking awaken,” I shout, and push his arm back, surprised that I have enough strength to wrestle myself free.

“Yes, we will and soon.” His fingers uncurl, and he growls again. “Those you love will feel the cost of your darkness.”

“No, you’re trying to scare me. It won’t work. I will not let you hurt my sister.”

He steps back, challenge threading his eyes. “It has already begun. Death cannot keep you from us forever.”

I jump when he lunges at me, stumbling backward. I grasp nothing but air as I fall again, the ground opening up into an abyss beneath me.

My eyes snap open as I’m jolted awake, gulping in a heavy breath as Cyna disappears from my mind, and the darkness dragging me deeper releases its hold on me.

“No!” I gasp, breathless, sitting upright.

“What’s wrong?” Candlelight flickers over Ari’s face as she slides into view. “You were having a nightmare,” she announces, and that is a fucking understatement. Cautiously, she glides an old piece of fabric over my forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat.

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