Page 138 of Heir of Illusion

No. My heart races in my chest as my vision goes blurry. I was supposed to have more time. I was supposed to find a way out. It’s too soon. I’m not ready.

I try to shake my head, but for some reason, I can’t turn away from Baylor. Words travel up my throat, halting on my tongue as I’m unable to speak them.

This isn’t right. I don’t want to be here.

Panic curls around me as I try to scream, but my mouth won’t open. I can’t move my face at all. It’s locked in a serene expression. My lips are curved into a pleasant smile, my eyes radiating false joy. Inside, I scream for my body to respond to my commands, but all I’m able to do is watch as the distance between myself and the king gets smaller.

I’m nothing but a puppet, unable to pull my own strings.

When we’re within a few feet of the altar, Baylor reaches out and takes my hand from my brother. Bellamy disappears into the crowd as the king leads me up the steps and places us directly before the temple priest.

“You look lovely,” he whispers.

My cheeks stain with a blush. “As do you.”

Stop! I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this! Doesn’t anyone care?

“Iverson Pomeroy, do you take this man to be your husband for the rest of your days. Do you promise under the Fates to be loyal and obedient to him in all things?”

I’m screaming at myself to say no, but instead I open my mouth and say, “I do.”

Please, I beg the Fates. Please intervene. Don’t abandon me to this fate.

Baylor’s voice is distant as he speaks his own vows. My brain is unable to latch onto any of his words except the final two.

“I do.”

My stomach drops.

“Then, with the power vested in me by the holy sisters, I now pronounce you husband and wife, bound together for all eternity. My King, you may now kiss your bride.”

The crowd erupts into cheers as Baylor’s mouth lowers to mine. Acid burns in my stomach at the taste of him on my tongue. The collar tightens, squeezing my throat in its iron grasp.

“Now you’re mine,” Baylor whispers, his eyes feverish. “Forever.”

I sit up,gasping as I clutch my throat.

The sheets are in disarray, completely tangled with my legs. I kick them away, needing to escape the sensation of being trapped. Usually, my nightmares are memories. This was the first time since I was a child that I’ve dreamed of something that hasn’t actually happened to me.

But hasn’t it?Haven’t I lived that way every day for the past year?

As my pulse slows, I realize even though the dream may not have been real, the emotions were. Everything in that dream was a mirror of my situation here. My gaze moves to the other side of the bed, confirming what I already know.

I’m alone.

Thorne must have left at some point in the night. Not wanting to confront the loneliness blooming in my belly, I force myself out of the bed. My feet pad across the floor, and I pull back the curtains to find that the sun has barely woken up. I quickly hurry through the process of dressing myself, not wanting to wait for Alva or Morwen to arrive in a few hours. I’ll be gone by then.

I have no desire to be alone today. Unfortunately, Della likely hasn’t forgiven me for what I said the last time we spoke. And Remy is off searching for thealmanova, which is what Ishouldbe doing. The thought of ripping through people’s homes today sounds even worse than sitting alone in my room.

There’s always Darrow?

I shudder. Willingly spending time with Darrow would truly be hitting a new low.

With nowhere to go and no friends to visit, I find myself roaming the halls, something I haven’t done since childhood. Servants and courtiers give me respectful glances and stilted bows as we cross paths. All of them are likely trying to make up for their previous behavior now that I’m going to be the new queen.

Nausea twists my insides as thoughts of the dream return. Perhaps that’s why I find myself standing in front of Baylor’s office. With no destination in mind, my feet must have carried me to the source of my frustration.

Huxley and Doral both bend at the waist as they exchange nervous glances.

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