Page 85 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
Even if I glean nothing from this conversation, I can still be a distraction.
Malice’s voice slices through my thoughts, drawing me back to the present. “Do you know what I think?”
“I get the feeling you are going to tell me whether I want to know or not,” I manage to utter before the candles atop the table flicker. One sputters out.
Aslamreverberates through the room as the table shortens, drawing me that much closer to Malice, where he still sits, unmoving, unblinking, staring at me. My fork clatters to my plate, forgotten, when the table shortens again. And then again. And then again until there is only one candle between us.
Until his knees brush against mine beneath the table.
I flinch back, my heart racing, my breath hitching.
This is impossible. Malice cannot weave Earth. He cannot make and unmake.
It is only an illusion, I remind myself, trying to pierce through the veil of Mind that must be shimmering between us, making it seem like he is suddenly so near.
Too near.
“I think there is a part of you that revels in your newfound otherness. A part of you that delights in now knowing that you are special,” he whispers, his voice cast low—intimate within our new close quarters. “Because I think, deep down, for all your pining after my nephew, you are more like me than him.”
I recoil from his words, my pride smarting. “I amnothinglike you.”
A hint of a smile toys at the corner of his mouth as he tilts his head to the side. “Are you not?”
Suddenly, I am seeing double. My right eye still lies to me, showing me Malice as he wishes to be perceived—sitting near, leaning close. My left shows me the truth: that the table remains its normal length, that my captor still sits on the opposite side of the room.
“You see?” His voice unfurls against my ear in a warm caress of breath.
I shudder and try to swat his latest Air weave away. “Don’t do that.”
“Youseeme, Lady Aurelia,” he proclaims, abruptly shoving his chair back from the table and rising to his feet. “It has been many years since I last had to actuallytry.”
I gasp as the world tilts, as the floor dissolves beneath me, leaving me tumbling through darkness. The dimly lit chamber fades. The goblins melt away. Even Malice disappears.
Before I can catch my breath, I tumble into another world—a world of soft music and glittering lights.
A magical fae ball.
I spin in a slow circle, in awe as I drink in the sight of utter beauty before me. Alabaster marble gleams all around rather than the dark stone of Umbra Castle. Pixies flit overhead, filling the air with the sound of their bright laughter. Graceful elves with skin in soft, earthy hues dance together in time to the music, twirling like flower petals caught on a breeze.
A strong hand catches me around the waist and tugs me along, sweeping me into the steps of a stately waltz before I can stop it.
My heart skips a beat when I find myself staring up into the emerald eyes of Malice again. His free hand claims mine, keeping me fixed in place.
“How do you like this?” he whispers, the question but a mere breath shared between us.
I recoil from him yet again, detesting his nearness, his touch, struggling to escape. “I like it a good deal less now.”
His grip on me tightens. “Ah, but it is a test. Is it all false? Or is something here real?”
I tremble, my stomach roiling, as he shifts his hold on my waist, letting his hand drift further up my back. Until one of his fingers finally slips beneath the strands of beads draping my skin. Until, with the gentlest of touches, he strokes my bare flesh.
The touch is real. Though I cannot yet see through his illusion, I know that much.
Nausea washes over me.
I am going to be sick.
“Stop touching me,” I shout, prying myself from his arms. “Stoptoyingwith me!”
