Page 89 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, baring his teeth. “Don’tevertouch me. You are not one of us. Never will be.”
The fear in his eyes stops my heart. He’s afraid of me, of a tiny brush of my fingers. His vulnerability lasts a fleeting moment, and then it’s gone beneath his armor of seething hatred.
Varen raises his voice, grips his hair, pacing by the door. “When a hive is under attack, guard bees release alarm pheromones. This rallies the colony to defend against intruders.”
“Precisely,” Legion sighs, humoring him. “And now we are defended.”
It seems to mollify Varen, disrupt Emrys, and quieten the room. But inside, I am boiling with something indignant. Something that won’t stay down.
“Stop calling me queen,” I shout, my cheeks burning. All the emotions I’ve stifled surge to the surface. “I’m not your queen,” I clarify, forcing my tone to soften despite wanting to shake sense into them all. Instead, I meet each of their eyes in turn and set my jaw. “I’m your mate. It’s completely different.”
I adjust the blanket and tug my hair aside, revealing Fox’s bite scar on my neck.
“We’re all connected,” I say, “whether you like it or not, but I am not your queen. I’m not here for the same purpose as the others. I didn’t lure the Nightmare in. The thought of controlling you, manipulating you—or anyone—makes me want to puke.”
I spent half my life being controlled and manipulated. Why would I subject anyone else to that suffering?
Emrys narrows his eyes. “You can’t help it. It’s in your nature.”
“Maybe nature can change,” Bodin offers quietly.
He receives a hiss of contempt in return. “Keep dreaming.”
Legion’s gaze flattens on Emrys. “Go deal with Styx and the Terror. Channel that anger into something useful for once.”
Emrys looks at me, then at the dragon licking drops of spattered blood on the dining table leg.
“Deny it all you want,” he says to me, “but you already control the beast. We will never be free so long as we have a queen.”
He leaves without a backward glance.
Legion turns his stern gaze to Bodin. “When I give you an order to meet her needs, I expect you to follow it. Sleeping in the stables is not meeting her needs.”
He takes Varen and walks out.
Bodin looks at me. I can’t read his expression, so when he storms off with a curt, “Follow me,” a stubborn urge to plant my feet takes over.
The room feels colder and emptier now. Tension lingers in the air like a thick fog. Emrys’s words echo in my mind, reminding me of my outsider status. Yet, beneath the hurt, determination grows, and warmth spreads through my chest.
They came for me. All of them. This should be a good thing, a sign of our bond growing closer. But they’re all acting like . . . My mind scrambles to find the right words.
A memory surfaces—an overheard conversation between my mother and her friends during one of their cocktail catch-ups. I’d been hiding in the larder not long after returning to Elphyne when their laughter and chatter drifted in.
“God, men can be so . . . ugh,”my mom had said, slinking into the room with her friends Laurel, Melody, and Silver.
Their conversation flowed with the fruity cocktails they mixed, full of old-world clichés and playful complaints aboutthe men in their lives. I remember the sound of ice clinking in glasses, their drinks’ sweet scent, and their laughter’s warmth.
“Sometimes they just need some help dotting the Is and crossing the Ts,” Melody had said, reaching across the counter to squeeze Mom’s hand.
“And killing the monsters,” Laurel added with a wink.
Silver nodded solemnly. “I might be good at killing, but when the shit hits the fan, when I need protection, there’s nothing Shade won’t do to keep me safe.”
The memory fades, leaving me with a bittersweet smile.
As Bodin strides away down the hall, I realize this family needs help. Unlike me, this family has lost their memories. Legion can only do so much on his own. Since Fox removed himself from the picture, I’ve been waiting for Legion or any of them to guide me forward. I’m not their queen. I don’t control or have power over their actions and lives. I want to be their equal, their mate. I want respect.
That means I need to start pitching in, tackling problems head-on, and proving I’m not like their slaver queens.
