Page 28 of Snatched By the Sandman

She shrugs and tilts her head with a smile. “I like you more. He doesn’t dance.”

Phantasos kneads his brow. “Look, Ivy, I put in a good word with Queen Aradia. You will absolutely love her. She likes to take dark, little things like you and show them pretty, pink stuff. I don’t know, something like that. I just know it’s impossible not to love her. So, how about I escort you back to the gateway?” He tries to shoo her along, but she digs her heels in.

“Aradia is sweet, but I like you more.” She puts her hands together in front of her and sways, her energy effervescent.

“Stop calling me Phanta! I’m not an energy drink!”

Zenya steps closer, a knowing energy resonating from her. “If he is, I’d need a lifetime supply.”

Ivy turns to Zenya. Her chin juts out. “Who are you?”

“Zenya Alice Myre…at your service,” she adds with a flair, mirroring Phantasos with her illustrious bow before conjuring a lollipop for Ivy.

“Dream weaver! I’m so jealous!” Ivy gushes. “Can you weave me up a pet tiger?”

“Don’t indulge her,” Phantasos warns Zenya. “She only looks sweet and innocent.”

Nyxion grunts. “Anything would be better than the Candyland present.”

I can’t help but chuckle at the image. “Candyland nightmares…hmm. Now that’s a twist.” Curiosity sparks inside me as I wonder where the conversation will lead.

Nyxion merely snorts.

Ivy giggles, hopping from one foot to the other. “I’d make sure there are plenty of marshmallow monsters, too!”

Zenya laughs, her energy twinkling as she looks at Ivy. “You’d better behave, or Phantasos might send you to bed without dessert.”

Ivy gasps in mock horror. “Not without dessert! You wouldn’t dare, would you, Phanta?”

Phantasos sighs, a smile tugging at his lips despite how he tries to look stern. “You’re lucky I have a soft spot for stubborn, little troublemakers.”

I nod my agreement, a sense of warmth spreading through me. Despite the chaos and the darkness, there’s a strange comfort in our twisted little family. We are ever competing with one another. It’s why I can’t fault Nyxion too much, even if he’s never gone so far as to steal my Eye.

Ivy will prove to be a worthy diversion. Nyxion can’t avoid me forever. Soon, we will discuss recent events while Zenya is otherwise occupied. With her involvement in this conflict between me and my brother, it’s better to keep her in the dark, so to speak.

Zenya steps closer to my brother, a curious smile on her lips. “Phantasos, it seems Ivy isn’t going anywhere easily. What will you do? Keep playing hide and seek?”

Ivy proudly crosses her arms over her chest. “More like hide and find.”

Phantasos groans dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Fine, she can stay, but don’t blame me when she has you eating out of the palm of her hand.”

Zenya laughs. “Oh, I’ll be careful. I wouldn’t want to end up her minion.”

Ivy makes a pouting sound, and I hear her take a few steps to stand protectively in front of Phantasos. “It’s not my fault Phantasos needs my protection. He’s just so fun and fluffy. He needs someone scary like me to look out for him.”

“Oh, you are a terror all right,” remarks Zenya, and I sense her grin from here. “Who in their right mind wouldn’t be afraid of you? I think you’re scarier than the God of Nightmares.” He scowls, his usual broody self.

A flicker of amusement kindles within me as I listen to the banter. It’s a welcome break from the usual solemnity.

With a flourish, Zenya dream-weaves a throne for Ivy, pulling Phantasos over to stand beside it. “There, now you can command us all.”

Ivy’s eyes light up with excitement as she hops onto the throne. “This is amazing! Now, Phanta, fetch me a cloud! I’ve always wanted a cloud pillow.”

I chuckle softly, feeling the vibrations in my chest, the sound almost foreign to me. Only a twinge of sympathy for Phantasos because I know he’s internally eating up the attention.

When Nyxion rises from his throne, sweeping back his cloak, I tense, ready to step in if he invades their playtime. My wings tighten slightly.

Nyxion’s energy darkens as he wraps his bony hand around Zenya’s waist, possessive and domineering. “Remember who the real God of Nightmares is,” he growls softly.

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