Page 4 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“I’m sorry. I know it must be a shock.” If only he knew about the others forgetting him entirely.
His head dips, body coiling with tension. Then, with a speed that startles me, he snatches a jar of wisps and hurls it against the wall. Glass shatters, releasing hundreds of buzzing energy orbs into the cavern. I duck, narrowly avoiding a collision.
He exhales, the act seemingly cathartic, and throws another jar.
“Styx!” I shriek, dodging a rogue wisp. “Stop! If the queen finds out?—”
“Fuck the queen.” His eyes lock with mine as he deliberately smashes another jar.
“If one of them hits us—eek!” I dive beneath a table. “We don’t know who they belonged to. What if they’re from some deranged Nightmare? Do you really want those memories hitting you right now?”
He plucks a wisp from the air and pops it into his mouth like candy. “Tastes boring. Like . . . a happy mortal.”
From my hiding spot, I ponder. Perhaps the wisps don’t affect him because they’re a part of his natural diet. When Tinger’s wisp entered my bloodstream, I felt dizzy, but then the hive’s chaotic magic purged my system. Now I’m empty again. I might not be so lucky if one hits me now.
Styx’s feet appear before my table refuge.
“Why can’t I access your thoughts?” he asks, his voice unnervingly soft.
“Because I’m your mate,” I repeat, my hand swiping out from beneath the table, gesturing toward Fox. “His too. And Legion’s, Bodin’s, Emrys’s, and Varen’s. I’m fated to be . . . your skin or something weird like that. Your”—my mouth twists in distaste at the next word—“queen.”
He scoffs. “A fantasy. We will never accept enslavement to a queen.”
“Good. I don’t want to be one.” I rub my aching forehead, wincing at my injured palm. Stupid move, breaking that pendant. I’ll need to clean the wound before it festers. “Look, I can’t control you any more than you can control me. I’m exhausted. I just want to go home.”
“You are powerless.”
“Because Titania stole my magic!” I crawl out, glaring up at him from my hands and knees. “She ruined my life, stole my magic, and now I’m mortal. Happy?”
“No.” A wayward curl falls across his forehead as he meets my gaze. “You could be anyone. You could be the reason Fox is encased in stone.”
The wisps have gathered on the ceiling, drawn to the stars beyond. I should be safe now. Pushing past him, I clamber to my feet. “I’m your only way out of this temple. If I’m high on wisps, I can’t control the wards.”
“How convenient,” he drawls, skepticism etched in every line of his face.
Helplessness clogs my throat. We’re going in circles. How can I make him trust me? The spectacles burn a hole in my pocket—amongst the other stolen items—but something holds me back from giving them to him. This choice feels monumental, and I can’t afford to be wrong.
A dragon’s roar shakes the walls, showering us with dust and debris. Oh Shit. Time’s up.
“The Baleful Hunt,” I gasp, shielding my eyes from falling sand. “Goodfellow must be here.”
Styx’s accusing gaze whips to me, but I don’t give him a chance to speak. I grab his wrist, tugging him toward the warded exit.
“The instant we’re out,” I hiss, “flickerus to the keep. Understand? Theinstant.”
The stubborn bastard resists, and I feel the weight of my failure. I should have forced the spectacles on his face while he was still disoriented. I screwed up again because I can’t trust my own judgment.
The shuffle of boots alerts us to Puck’s arrival. The auburn-haired Radiant materializes through the temple wall. His lumpy, hairless eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me, then Styx. Instinctively, I step in front of my mate, a futile attempt at protection. More sand falls as the Hunt moves about on his rooftop nest. The dragon is still outside—not hosted within Puck. Probably because the wards only allow humans inside. He was once human, wasn’t he?
And if Fox couldn’t breech the wards when we were in here last, then it’s likely Puck can’t communicate with his dragon to warn it we’re here. We still might stand a chance of escaping if Styx flickers us to the keep when we step outside.
A snarl is my only warning before Styx pushes me out of the way. I stumble, blinking in confusion. By some miracle, hisotherworldly features remain hidden, but his hand is wrapped around Puck’s throat.
“If you kill me,” Puck warns, his voice strained but steady, “he’ll be forever imprisoned in stone.”
Styx’s fingers flex as he regards the Radiant with eerie calm. “You’re bonded to the Baleful Hunt?”
“And he’s right outside. Killing me will set him free, then who will release Lord Fox then?”
