Page 90 of Their Blood Queen

My father wants me to take the throne? Fine. I will.

But his head will be my crown.

The vortex opens, spinning with darkness and nightmares and death. I can’t help the grin that stretches over my throbbing fangs.

The crowd is roaring with excitement now, sending mating cries beating against the stone walls. I haven’t seen this sort of energy from the Nightmare Fae in years, if ever.

Excitement of my own builds in my chest, but I don’t cry out. Instead, I hold on to Cage and don’t let go. He doesn’t say anything as my claws dig into his skin.

The void yawns open, drowning us all in shadow.

Like walking nightmares, we step in.

And for the first time in my life, I don’t know what I’m going to find on the other side of a dream.

CHAPTER 23

SCARLETT

Fuck.

That appears to be my new favorite curse lately, and it nestles into my mind, seeming to be the only singular word that can describe the gravity of my current situation.

One where I’m trapped behind a broken mirror, stuck as an onlooker to the world that passes by outside.

In this case, I found a mirror in an upscale viewing bar. Elites from the Magic Sector have gathered here for this year’s annual Monsters Night, which gives me a good view of what my betrothed is up to.

Do I even want him anymore?

What if I find a monster instead?

My stomach tightens with anticipation, although I’m not sure why. I won’t be anywhere near Monster City tonight. My real body is asleep in my bed in the Rinhold estate where Beatrix and Julie take turns caring for me.

I’m stuck in a strange in-between state when one of them disturbs me. My spirit might be behind a broken mirror far away, but my body still feels and senses everything back at the estate.

Julie presses a glass of water against my parched lips, and my tongue tingles. My body allows a few drops to move down my throat, working on a difficult swallow.

I’m lucid enough to perform basic tasks in the real world, such as eating and drinking, as well as performing assisted trips to the facilities.

But another part of me wanders the Elite City, and I’m fairly certain it’s no dream.

I’ve been everywhere—except for the Immortal Sector, of course. Those walls seem to keep me out with a dense dark magic I don’t understand. But it’s clear that Cain understands his most precious sector needs to be protected from threats that aren’t always physical.

Which means I can’t approach Cain unless he leaves his tower again, which he hasn’t. His blood did this to me, so I suspect he’d be able to see my spirit if I found him.

Instead, I’m stuck here, hoping to hear word of where he might appear next, and spy on Edward in the meantime. It would be so much simpler if I could float on over to the glass he’s drinking out of and demand answers, but I suppose it’s good that I can’t. When I talk to Edward again, it’s going to be a serious conversation, one with answers, if I have my way.

Because he knows where I’m from. He knows the name of my birth village.

He doesn’t seem very broken up about my state as he converses with another Earl. I can only watch from my perch inside the broken mirror that has a wide view of the bar I’m observing. It reminds me of when I was a child and I found secret passages in-between walls. I would find a peephole and watch the comings and goings of my parents and other families for hours.

It’s how I learned I was adopted.

It’s also when I discovered that everyone wears a mask. When someone thinks they aren’t being watched, they’re a different person entirely.

The past two days have certainly given me numerous observations to think about, including how I feel about my betrothed. The Earl he was talking with has left, and I watch Edward now as he perches on one of the stools. He seems pleased with himself as he hooks his boot into the rung. Blood diamonds glitter over his apparel tonight, the fashion having changed from blue and teal accents to something richer.

Other families are donning rubies, which is a more affordable gem than what my betrothed wears.

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