Page 5 of A Surrender Of Hope

Meyer

I’m still screaming as I jerk upright, clutching at my chest as indescribable pain races through me. I can feel my heartbeat. It’s an odd, heavy feeling as it stalls and takes way too long to beat again. I gasp and lean forward as visions of my mother float in my mind, my body helpless to anything but the slow, drawn-out pain from each throb of my heart. My mind screams at me, wanting to go back to help her, despite knowing there is nothing I can do.

Thump… thump… thump…

My heart slowly starts beating steadily, sending lightning through my limbs, making my fingers and toes light up with a painful tingle as if they were without blood flow for too long. I groan as my body heaves, and I slump forward, my arms shooting out to catch me before I face-plant onto the ground. Tears trail down my face as I desperately try to go back to that room, back to my mother. I need to help her!

“Meyer!” a voice bellows my name as the darkness finally lightens. Suddenly, I’m sitting in a large room surrounded by red brick.

“Dammit!” I yell when I realize I’m no longer in her room, my arms shaking under me as I try to slow my rapid breathing. “No.” Doubling over, I rest my overly warm forehead on the cold stones under me and close my eyes, replaying everything I just saw before I slowly sit back up. Frowning, I look around as I realize something else feels different.

My vision isn’t hazy and there’s no weird water effect, yet I’m sure I’m still in a dream. “I’m physical,” I realize as I look around, fear etching itself deep into my soul. “Shit!” Shoving to my feet, I instantly go on guard, hating that I don’t know what to do next. I hiss in pain and look down at my wrist, rubbing my finger over the bright red mark that is still there and brighter than ever. It’s hot to the touch and brightens the moment my finger touches it.

“This is bullshit.” I drop my hands to my side as I step forward, trying to figure out where I am. The empty room is long and rectangular, with a single throne lording over the far end on top of a grand dais. The elaborate chair is carved out of some black stone; the details etched into the polished material are a work of art. I take a hesitant step forward, studying the throne, and exhale as I realize it’s entirely made of onyx.

Fuck!

Frowning, I step back and turn, glancing at the other end of the room, where two open doors reside. One sits askew, hanging off its large hinges, while the other is propped open. The hall outside is pitch black, leading into the unknown, and I grimace, wondering if it’s safe to leave this room.

Red and black flags catch my attention as I look over the room I’ve appeared in; they cover the walls, their threads sparkling in the golden glow of firelight from the wall sconces nearby. My eyes widen when I see what’s embroidered on the material, and I hold my hand up, staring at the matching symbol etched into the skin on my wrist. Dread fills me, makingmy pained body ache even more if possible, and I take a few more steps back.

“Nope! No. I’m not dealing with whatever bullshit this is!” I shake my head, curseing as it starts to throb. “I want to wake up now!” I yell, well aware that I sound like a lunatic talking to myself, as I spin, looking around the enormous throne room. The swirl of my heavier-than-normal skirts makes me pause, and I look down at myself. My blue gown is gone, and in its place is one spun of dark burgundy silk and sparkling black tulle. The elaborate gown cinches tight at my waist and then flows around me, the skirt falling in waves to the floor. There’s so much of it that I can feel the extra weight of the heavy fabric on my body.

“That’s new,” I mutter as the click of claws on stone sounds through the air, sucking all the air from my lungs. A burst of adrenaline courses through me, racing down my spine, and cold sweat breaks out across my body. I close my eyes, feeling sick at the thrill I feel, all while knowing what’s about to show up.

“Meyer!” A voice echoes through the air, and the pain in my chest increases, making me double over and gasp as I clutch the bodice of my dress, needing the bone-aching pain to stop. The voice is faint, yet there and so fucking familiar.

“Nox?” Tears prick my eyes as I open them, a sudden burst of comfort filling me. I don't even want to think about how Lennox has somehow managed to wiggle his way into my life enough that his voice alone brings a small amount of comfort. I’ll figure that shit out later. I’m too scared to shout a reply and draw more attention to myself with Beastia nearby.

“Nox!” I whisper more urgently, looking around for him, but I’m alone. “If I’m stuck in your dreams and you're watching as I get my ass handed to me by a Beastia as a lesson, I swear I won’t hesitate to slit your throat!” I grind out, the small amountof comfort I felt bleeding to frustration. “Shouldn’t have taught me how to kill you properly,” I mutter under my breath.

A low growl rumbles through the room, and I jerk my attention from trying to find Nox to searching for anything I can use as a weapon. I’m not going to allow the damn Viking to see me panic without him.

“You are a strong woman who can handle herself,” I say to myself, eyes locking on a weird-looking shield with two swords crossed over it. They’re hanging on the wall behind the massive throne above a large mirror that makes the throne room appear as if it goes on forever. “That’ll work.” I make a mad dash for the swords, cursing the dress I’m in when I almost trip on the long skirts. A growl and then a howl fills the throne room, and I nearly throw up when I feel more than hear the Beastia come into the room behind me.

I try to steady my trembling hands as I reach up, standing on my toes to grasp one of the sword hilts and yank, then yank and tug some more when it doesn't come loose.

“Come on!” I plead, then stupidly look into the mirror in front of me, watching the reflection of not one but four enormous, spine-covered Beastia stalking through the doors. The curl of excitement inside me quickly sours as I keep yanking at the stubborn hilt of the sword hanging above. “I’m going to die with a sword in my hand because you’re such a bitch!” I whisper yell at the inanimate object, giving it one more tug, then gasp when not just the sword, but the whole damn shield with both swords come crashing off the wall and onto me. The weight is far more than I’m ready for, so it takes me to the ground with it, and I grunt when my hip hits the hard ground.

“Jesus, I’m pathetic,” I groan as growls and huffs from the Beastia fill the room. I close my eyes and lie there for a moment, trying to decide if I really want to get up and fight or just… give up. Maybe I’ll just wake up if I close my eyes long enough?At that moment, my mind decides to remind me what it felt like to have a Beastia attack me, and I take a deep breath before pushing myself back to my feet in a ball of silk and tulle. “Stupid, fucking dress!” I snarl, kicking the long skirts out of my way.

My eyes immediately fall on the four Beastia, much closer than I want them to be. Their soulless, dead eyes are locked on me as they lower their bodies slightly, heads ducked as threatening growls rumble from their throats. One of the Beastia steps closer, making another mad, and it growls, snapping at the first one’s heels, while I flinch back at the sound. Saliva drips from their jowls, their deformed heads tilting one way, then the other as they slowly close in on me.

“Damn, you guys are ugly,” I rasp, trying not to panic as I keep pulling on the sword handle I haven’t let go of yet. I step on the shield, attempting to get better leverage on the damn thing, but it’s almost like they’re welded together. “Shit!” I shout, then step back, watching the Beastia close in from the corner of my eye. I’m running out of time, and I know I’ll be toast just as the closest Beastia crouches and lunges for me.

On instinct, I jerk the shield and swords up and swing the whole thing at the attacking monster. I grin when it collides with the Beastia’s skull with a satisfying crack, making the creature snarl and jerk to the side from the blow. But the move cost me as another one springs forward, and I feel the sharp prick of claws on my side as I fall under its weight. Hot, rancid breath covers my face as I shout and try to get out from under the monster, my hands moving up to cover my face.

“No!” I scream as dark, soulless eyes dart forward, sharp black teeth bared only inches from my face, and pain races down my side. My eyes slam shut as I wait for the agony I know will come, the death I’m sure to suffer, but after a moment of silence, I crack open an eye. My breath freezes in my lungs atthe sight of the monster above me. Its teeth are only an inch from my nose, and soulless eyes are no longer black… but red!

A small gasp breaks from between my lips as something shifts inside me, an odd sort of numbness washes over me as I take in my outstretched hands. Red magic sparks at the center of my palms, instantly reminding me of the young girl from my dreams, and I can’t help but admire it as I let the cold feeling coat me in a soothing numbness that instantly relieves the pain for the first time since waking up in the first dream.

I slowly tilt my head to the side, eyes finding the other three Beastia standing still a few feet away, their monstrous forms heaving with heavy breaths, their glowing red eyes locked on my hands. A dark thrill races through me, different than before, something bone-deep settles inside me, making me feel alive.

“Go,” I order, the same way the girl had when she commanded the Beastia outside her window. I watch as the Beastia above immediately steps back, its eyes on my outstretched hands as it takes several steps back and then turns, running from the room with the other three on its heels. I lie there for a moment before pushing myself to my feet. I vaguely feel warm liquid dripping down my side, and I remember the feeling of claws tearing into me, but I feel no pain.

Turning, I freeze when my gaze collides with my reflection in the mirror, and for the first time, I have a moment to take in my appearance. My normally dark green eyes are now red, almost matching my gown's color, but it’s the black crown of onyx nestled on top of my head that takes my breath away. It’s surrounded by my soft blonde curls pinned up off my neck and I swallow hard as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. My eyes run up and down my body, taking in the gown from the deep reds of the silk fabric glimmering under the sheer sparkling black tulle to the bodice, which is perfectly formedto my figure, curving around me like it was made for me with simple yet beautiful armor detailing on the shoulders and bust.

Reaching up a hand, my attention is solely back on the small crown on top of my head. My fingertips run over the ornate design that reminds me of a rose stem, complete with sharp thorns and tiny flowers woven into the twisted dark material. It's no more than an inch or two tall, just barely peeking out of my curls, but the soft red glow of magic pulses through the onyx and calls attention to it.

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