Page 7 of Sweet Nightmares
The god cocked his head. “Mr.Nightmares.” He twirled one of her curls between his fingers with his free hand, as if enchanted by it. “Red, that’s not my name.”
Jane’s chest heaved, matching her frantic heart and breath rate. Yet she kept her voice steady. “What is your name?”
“Lord Gavriil Alexei Dimitris Draven Hawthorne Wrixon Wryte, the Count of Draculei.”
“That’s quite a mouthful.”
His lips twitched. Unclear if in amusement or worsening anger. He twirled a curl again, fixated on it. “You are far prettier than she ever was, and that truly is dangerous.”
“Who is she?”
“Do not ask questions,” he snapped, his grip growing tighter on her throat. “Now, tell me why I shouldn’t simply snap your neck right now, prophecies be damned.”
Prophecies?
Jane swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I—”
Fuck. This was going much worse than she had ever imagined. But then, she should have known better. Nothing ever went well for her. Ever.
Her fingers clutched the wall, digging in as if she could escape behind it. She looked for a way out, but there wasn’t any. This man was a god and far,farstronger than her.
“I just want to bargain with you,” she whispered.
Nightmare’s gaze turned up to the ceiling as if in thought. His movements were slow, like a snake stalking its prey. So irritatingly slow. It felt like it took hours between each thought. And maybe it did. What was time in a mirror?
“I think I will kill you.”
Jane shuddered. But she held her resolve. “If you want to kill me, you really must get in line. The men waiting outside your mirror also want to kill me, and will if I don’t get them what they want.”
His eyes snapped back to her. “Only I get to kill you.” Nightmare leaned in closer, and his thumb tracked across her split lip as if he were noticing it for the first time. “You are a fragile little thing, aren’t you?”
Jane’s nose flared, and she felt the tiny grooves of the wallpaper for comfort. This Bargainer wanted to kill her. The men outside wanted to kill her. Half of the time, her husband threatened to kill her.
Did anyone want her alive? Or evenwanther at all?
Of course not.
“Will you at least do it quickly?” she asked, the corners of her eyes stinging.
At this, he blinked again, and with his free hand, he caressed her cheek. “So fragile. So weak.”
“Yes.”
“You are mine.” His thumb caressed her lips again.
Jane’s eyebrows creased. “What?”
He nodded, as if answering someone else’s question. “Yes, you’ll be mine…”
The god definitely wasn’t talking to her. It was as if he were talking to a ghost or a long-lost memory.
The candles flickered again, and the music got louder.
How long had it been since someone had come to this mirror god’s domain? He seemed to be going crazy from all the isolation.
“I—“ Jane bit the inside of her cheek. “Nightmare, what—“
“Do notcall me that.”
