Page 51 of What Sleeps Within the Cove

My mother shook her head at me subtly, warning me from doing the very thing I feared. It was in that moment I realized facing my greatest fears hadn’t been losing my loved ones. It hadn’t even been my own death.

It was that creature stalking beneath my skin, waiting to take over and erase my will. My greatest fear was the inevitability of accepting her and what that meant for my future.

Accepting that she always had been, and always would be, the most dangerous part of me.

I sunk into the darkness of that stare, studying the constellations in my own eyes as I tipped my head to the side. My reflection shifted, turning her gaze down to look at my hands even though I hadn’t moved.

My heart caught in my throat, forcing me to swallow as I followed her stare.

Faint golden threads rose up from the floor and came in through the open windows at the sides of the dream. They strained toward me, leaving me to fear what would happen if I embraced them. The last time I’d attempted it, Khaos had needed to intervene because I’d taken too much magic.

But I hadn’t truly embraced the beast then, and she nodded to me in encouragement as if she held all the answers.

To who I had been, who I was now, and who I would one day become.

I stretched out my hands, accepting the first brush of the threads against my skin. It was as if air returned to my lungs, filling me with warmth as they touched the tips of my fingers. Each thread embraced me, winding around my fingers and then my hand. My Fae Marks faded, disappearing beneath the golden light of the threads as they wound their way up my arms. I forced myself to still, holding my own gaze even as panic made my heart stutter in my chest.

There was no fear greater than this—greater than being consumed by power.

The threads of fate covered my shoulders, wrapping around my torso and my legs until I was covered in the golden shimmer. I saw the panic in my own eyes as well as the reassurance of the dark stare looking back at me.

The threads tickled my throat, wrapping around it and twining until they covered my face. They consumed my mouth, the frayed edges sinking between my lips to rest against my tongue as the rest of my face fell to the tomb I’d created.

I struggled to move beneath their weight as they slid over my nose, hardening into a cage as I felt the air rush out of my chest.

There was only the gold glimmer of the threads surrounding me, my body trapped in excruciating pain as they tightened on my skin and broke through the surface. They sank into my body, into the Fae Marks that filled with warmth.

I forced myself to hold still through the agony, letting the power take root in my soul and flood my veins.

I would never again be helpless.

I would never again be afraid.

I would take back what was mine and what Tartarus had stolen from me.

I saw through the threads finally as they sank into me, becoming part of me and allowing me to see Byron posture the cane above his head and ready to drive it down onto my mother once more.

Those hardened threads held me still, giving me no choice but to force through. My fingers flexed at my sides, fighting against the restraints.

No.

I was not just a tempest. I was the storm as something new surged through me.

Byron lowered the cane, swinging it forward sharply with a shout that hinted at the force he put into this one.

I struck out, breaking through the threads and glass barrier between us in one step. I burst free from the threads, a flash of gold lighting the room as my hand connected with the cane and stopped it in midair. Byron’s shocked gaze met mine, his fear coating my tongue. I drank it down, consuming it like a meal. It should have terrified me to feed on such a thing, but the creature side of me purred.

Grasping the cane from midair, I shoved him back and watched as he faded into the shadows at the corner. The sun had fled the room, leaving the brightest light in the room to be the shimmer of gold.

My Fae Marks that had once been white glowed with the color, lighting the darkness like the brightest star to match the gold stars swimming in the depths of my dark eyes.

My mother’s tear-filled eyes faded from view, her form disappearing from the temple as I made my choice.

As I chose to overcome.

Clutching the cane tightly in my hand, I turned my back on my own reflection and stepped through space and time.

I left the nightmare of my own volition.

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