Page 31 of Snatched By the Sandman

“Obviously.” Sarcasm doesn’t simply drip. It drowns his tone.

“She’s a rare dream weaver, Morpheus. The balance between her light and darkness is both perfect and paradoxical.”

His shadows swell. “Oh, spare me the poetry, Nyxion. You had no right to steal my Eye while I slept. Even for you, that’s low.”

Unflinching, I rise higher. “Naturally. I am the God of Nightmares.”

“Your jealousy was once endearing, brother. Now, it’s tedious. In your desire to reap those delicious emotions, you know you will break her.”

“She’s already fucking broken. So damaged, she can take my damage.”

“Don’t act like you’re doing her a favor.” He leans closer, hand balling into a fist on the table.

“Never.” I lean back and open my skeletal palms. “I have made no excuses, given her no guise. I will use all her broken shards to cut her, reach inside her, and create beautiful nightmares with all her succulent humanity. What could be more pure in its dark simplicity?” My cock hardens at the mere thought of wreaking havoc on her.

Morpheus scoffs, shaking his head. “She almost died earlier because of you, Nyxion. She was on the brink.”

I sober with a rare twinge of remorse. “I’m well aware. Death has stalked her all her life. Death has had an infinite number of chances to take her. She blew the goddamned Grim Reaper a kiss every time. She is strong, strong enough to hold your Eye. And I will selfishly keep her as long as I can. If Death dares to touch her, I will rip him apart piece by piece until he surrenders her soul to me.”

Zenya Alice Myre will be my comatose Queen, my Queen of Nightmares for eternity.

Morpheus’s gaze softens slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ever the romantic with your grand dark gestures. But once she learns the truth of what you’ve put inside her, she could do the Trials.”

I frown, chest throbbing as I’m unwilling to entertain the possibility. “She’s too alive, Morpheus. She prefers to escape her nightmares rather than face them.”

Morpheus smirks. “We will see, won’t we, brother? After all, not everyone enjoys wallowing in darkness like you.”

“Oh, I assure you, brother. She never wallows when she’s wrapped around my cock.”

He lurches, shadows lunging for me. As annoying as those flecks of diamonds may be, I crook my lips into a grin and surge my bone dust, ricocheting his shadows and returning them to him.

“I almost regret not inviting you to our first session.” I dig the knife in deeper, my cold bones warmer than ever with the fever of my lust. “How lovely she was strung up with my skin ropes and a noose around her pretty throat. She fell so hard for me.”

His fist strikes my jaw, breaking the bone. I laugh, hardly moving from my throne while fusing it back into place. Sandyshadow bastard. He’s on his ass the next moment, imprisoned in a giant rib cage.

“Mmm, the nearer the bone, the sweeter the meat, eh, Morpheus?”

He breaks the cage with his shadows, gets to his feet, and prowls toward me again.

“Come,” I beckon him, easing into a crouch. “Bring it, you glorified sandcastle.”

Just as he raises his fist with a snarl, I freeze, locking up. He senses it, too.

“The music stopped,” he points out.

“Zenya.”

I grit my teeth, grind my jaw, and teleport to the hall, finding Phantasos and Ivy in a silly match of arm wrestling. Zenya has vanished. Her essence lingers in the hall, but I know she’s no longer in the castle.

“Where the fuck is she?” I advance toward Phantasos, flicking my gaze between them.

“Oh.” Ivy looks up like she’s suddenly aware of my presence. “She left.”

The fuck?

“When?” I growl.

“Couple minutes ago.” She shrugs and narrows her eyes on Phantasos. “Come on, Phanta. I’m going to prove I’m stronger than you.”

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