Page 114 of A Bride for the Winter King
With a stifled cry, she sobs, “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey. Hey. You’re safe, alright?” I gather her shaky hands in mine. “What about Iris?”
Her soft, heartbreaking sniffles morph into a bitter snarl. “Why did you have to go and be so…handsy? She won’t shut up now, like you’re some kind of prize worth fighting for.”
I tilt my head to the side, and something inside me clicks. That voice… It’s similar to Lori’s, but sharper and full of reproach.
A ball of saliva burns my throat as I release her hands with a start, and when she combs her hair away from her face and looks down her nose at me, I see nothing but the ghost of my first wife, sitting right in front of me.
My soul shrivels with a mix of shame, horror, and rage. “You’re not Lori.”
“You figured it out, bravo,” she says on a strangled laugh. “I can barely move, let alone stab you through. I was so sure thisbody was the one. Another disappointment,” she mumbles to herself. “I guess I’ll just have to wait and try again.”
I stagger to my feet, widening the distance between us. “Where is Lori?” My voice hardens as the truth slowly sinks in. “What did you do with her?”
“Relax, she’s here. Exhausted from what she just did, but she’s here. With the others, it was like they were sleepwalking, and I felt groggy and numb all the time. But Lori… Lori cares for you something fierce. Her body was made for this, and yet she’s clearly not willing to just step aside.”
“What others? You've been haunting and possessing my wives?”
“Your queens, yes.”
A hiccup quakes Iris, my first wife more honest in that moment than she’s probably ever been with me.
I’m frozen, struggling to process the gravity of what Iris is saying. Grief slams into me next, a gut-wrenching weight that knots my stomach and blurs my vision with unshed tears. Olena, Deirdre, Hannah, Jillian… the haunting lullaby that sings me to sleep each night echoes in my ears. My teeth grind at the knowledge that, had I realized Iris’s dark soul was killing them, I could have saved them. The crushing realization that I was blind to her presence and let them die in vain nearly chokes me.
My father had refused to send his soul catchers, but with my light magic, I should have been able to see her. I’d always assumed she’d fled to Spring.
“How did you manage to hide from me?” I rasp.
“You couldn’t see me. Nobody could. Only the queens and the few odd brides I killed to gather my strength caught a glimpse of me,” she explains, but instead of sounding satisfied and evil, she simply sounds… haunted. “I was so alone, Elio.”
I arch a brow at the obvious remorse in her tone. “Why are you telling me all this?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Because Lori’s making me. It’s all very…muddled.”
I search the room for a solution. I could throw on clothes and get Sara, but I don’t trust Iris one bit. If her dark soul has taken over Lori’s body, she might present a picture of defeat only to stab me when my back is turned. The large mirror catches my eye. Whatever is happening here, my mind is too clouded to understand it fully. I need backup.
I summon an ice blade to cut my thumb and draw a series of quick runes over the mirror. “Damian Morpheus Sombra, I pray to you. Shadow King, I implore you. Get the fuck over here, and quickly. We need you.”
The glass shimmers as it absorbs the blood, and I wrap a towel around my naked bottom.
Iris shakes her head, a mix of exasperation and resignation in her eyes. “He’s not going to know what to do with us. By Eros, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
“Hush. I need to think.” I hand her one of my old shirts from the closet. “Just put this on for now.”
Iris scoffs and lays the basic cotton shirt down in her lap. “Really? Preventing another man from seeing me naked is at the forefront of your mind, right now?”
My mouth hangs open at her jab. “You were always so obtuse! I’m not dying of jealousy, here. I was just trying to preserve your—Lori’s—modesty.”
“Pfft,” Iris snickers. “Sure. And I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just stopped by to say hello.”
My lids close for a fleeting moment. A few minutes in, and we’re already back at square one, arguing over meaningless stuff. Iris so quick to believe the worst about my intentions. Me so damn tired of having every single word and action spun out of context, always relegated to the role of the overbearing husband.
Less than a minute later, Damian slips out of the glass, the morning light filtering through the windows snuffed out by his presence.
“I came as soon as I could. I thought maybe the Gray Man was back…” He removes his mask, and his brows raise as he takes in our appearance, clearly taken aback by our blatant state of undress. “But that’s obviously not the case.”
I force my fists to unclench, my gaze skidding over Iris. “Lori managed to warn me… Iris is in there with her, somehow.”
