Page 105 of Cursed Dreams
Not angry. Not cruel. Just—hurt. And that somehow for some reason she couldn’t quite explain it made it worse.
Thalia ran. She wasn’t even sure when her legs had started moving, just that the shadows of the temple corridor stretched and twisted around her as she sprinted, heart hammering in her chest like a war drum. Her lungs burned. Her hands shook. And still, she ran.
Down the long corridor. Past the quiet sanctuaries and cold stone alcoves. Through the courtyard where the moonlight pooled like silver ink on marble tiles.
He’s a dragon.
The thought kept slicing through her like a blade. Again and again. Every time she blinked, she saw his face, twisted in fury, radiant with power, older than time and etched in pain. The way his eyes glowed like twin suns. The way the shadows obeyed him like they were alive. Something in her chest felt like it cracking. She turned the last corner and practically threw herself through the door of her dormitory, slamming it shut behind her, pressing her back to the wood as though it could keep all the truths from bursting in.
The room was dim and quiet except for the distant crackle of a torch from the corridor and the muffled sound of someone breathing in the next room. Thalia’s legs finally gave out. She slid down to the floor, arms wrapped tightly around herself as though she could somehow keep everything from falling apart.
He’s a dragon fae.
The pieces wouldn’t stop shifting in her head, sliding into place in ways she didn’t want them to. His temper. His strength. His shadows. His impossible knowledge. His rage when she’d mentioned Caelum. His refusal to let the prince be freed.
He said he fought in the war.
Her stomach twisted.
The war. The one from the stories, where dragons had nearly destroyed the world. Where the high fae had sacrificed everything to stop them.
And he had been there. He had stood on that battlefield. A dragon. A creature she’d grown up fearing. Loathing. A villain in every tale. Yet he’d also been the one to check on her after Aric. The one who stood by her when she’d broken. The one who said she was more. The one who’d held her when she cried. The one who’d kissed her like she was the last spark of light in the dark. Her throat tightened. Had any of it been real? Or was she just another piece in some ancient game she didn’t understand? A tremor rippled through her.
You want an enemy? Fine.
His words echoed in her ears, over and over again. She buried her face in her knees.
I don’t know who to trust anymore.
But even as the fear wrapped around her like a cloak, something stirred beneath it, a flicker of rage. Of determination. Because he’d tried to scare her. He’d tried to shut her down. But that didn’t erase what she’d seen. What she knew. Caelum. The Temple of Kek. The Forgotten Forest. She would not be frightened into silence.
Not by Vaelith.
Not by the dragons.
Not by anyone.
Her breath hitched, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as she slumped back against the wood, fingers trembling so violently she thought they might never still. Her skin felt cold, her limbs numb, but her mind burned, images flashing too fast to catch. Caelum’s fading form. Molten gold eyes in the temple shadows. Claws concealed in soft-spoken words. Vaelith’s words. Lies. He had to be lying. He was a dragon. She couldn’t believe anything else. She was bonded to Caelum. She felt it. Whatever Vaelith claimed, it couldn’t be the truth. She would find him. She would save him. The thought steadied her breath even as her chest burned with white-hot pain, the bond thrumming through her with renewed clarity. Slowly, she forced her scattered thoughts into order, pulling herself back from the edge. But something still nagged at her mind, just out of reach, a piece she couldn’t quite grasp. As though she was missing something, something important.
She didn’t hear Nyla’s soft footfalls until her friend appeared in front of her, blinking sleep from her eyes.
“Thalia?” Nyla’s voice was quiet, groggy, concerned. “Are you okay?”
That was all it took. Thalia burst into tears.
“Gods,” Nyla gasped, hurrying to her. “Thalia, what happened? Are you hurt? Did someone?”
“I need your help,” Thalia choked out, clutching Nyla’s arms. “Please. And I need you to believe me.”
Nyla’s face instantly shifted, serious, sharp, but calm. “Of course I believe you. Just tell me.”
Finally, she did. She told her everything. Not neatly, not calmly, but in shaking, breathless pieces. The strange dreams. The pull toward Caelum. Their meetings. The soul bond. The truth about the High Fae, erased from history. The temple of Kek. The Forgotten Forest. The dragons. Finally, she told her about Vaelith. When she finished, she stared at Nyla waiting for her rebuke, but instead her friend looked shocked, she stood pacing the floor .
“Vaelith?” Nyla asked.
Thalia nodded, her eyes wide and wild. “He found me. Tonight. He, he knew. He knew about Caelum. About everything.”
She swallowed, throat burning.
