Page 60 of To Sway a Prince
The darkness closed in. One last breath sputtered from my lips, and the threads cinched tight. This wasn't just a dream. It was real.
I would never wake again.
24
THE NIGHTMARE
This was the nightmare. A nightmare that would never end. The threads vanished from around me. I lay on coarse dark stone in a great open space that was dark as a tomb.
Already the cold gnawed at my fingers and toes. Sound did not travel. Even my own breaths were so faint. As I sat up, the rocks beneath me scratched and itched my flesh.
If this was the liminal space spoken of before, then where were the other spirits? Shouldn't there be hundreds? Thousands?
Or…this was part of what made it such a horror. To be trapped not only in darkness, cold, and discomfort but alone. Completely and utterly alone.
On unsteady feet, I pushed myself up. It was so dark I could scarcely see my own hand in front of my face. As my eyes adjusted, I realized though there was simply nothing to see.
My chest tightened. This was it. I was trapped here. My magic was drained. Pulseporting wouldn't work. That part of myself felt as if it was dead. Ramiel had sworn he would not let me remain trapped. But did he even know where I was? Liminalspace was massive. This curse had been connected to the Chasm, but did that really make a difference?
I pressed my hand to the pendant. "Ramiel?" I called out.
The darkness devoured my voice. It didn't even echo. There wasn't even a scent to guide me. No smell of stone or water. Not even the smell of me.
My fingers trembled. "Ramiel."
I moved farther away, wandering aimlessly. My shoulder stopped aching, though I massaged the scar tissue through my sleeve.
There was nothing in this place. Just darkness and rocks. Each time I moved to my right though, my shoulder started to ache.
Time no longer had meaning. I sobbed in a way I hadn't for years. "Please, Creator of All," I prayed. "Please don't let me stay here." I cried out, but my tears were cold, barely streaking down my cheeks. And the sucking ache within my chest could not be avoided.
From the first time I heard of the curse, this was the place I feared. The endless night and waking sleep, locked in a place of cold and dark. If what I'd heard was true, I would not starve to death here. Nor would I die for lack of water. I'd simply…exist.
Nothing but darkness, cold, and coarse stone.
I was going to go insane in here.
How long had it been already?
I tried counting each step but stopped after one thousand seventy-nine. There was something even more unnerving about realizing how little was changing. Was I even moving?
The only thing that changed was if I moved to the right, my shoulder hurt, the scar aching deep.
Why?
What was different in that direction?
I rubbed my shoulder again and then took three steps to the right. The pain in my shoulder worsened, radiating down my arm and across my chest. I tugged my sleeve down, then gasped. The scar was peeling away. Freshly healed skin met my gaze, the crimson mate bond struggling to form, the soft pink glow signaling that it was still healing. It was…it was still trying to complete the full mate bond with Ramiel.
Was this because of the runes Ramiel had placed against me or the mate bond or both? The burns had almost vanished, bits of the scar falling away. Something shone underneath, blindingly bright in the darkness. A golden red light—the mate mark. The mark I'd scourged was still returning, the mate bond still forming.
My magic had been drained by the omenfang and the fight. But the runes, binding spell, and mate mark were present. When I pressed my fingertips against them, the pain worsened. But in a different way. It was...were the bonds and the runes still trying to take hold?
I focused more, willing them to grow stronger. Come on. Would it make a difference? Who knew?
My energy sputtered, the magic resisting this place and refusing to regenerate like it usually did. Only a trickle flowed from my fingertips. I traced over the mark and then runes, pausing at the binding spell. What had Ramiel been binding to me? It obviously did not feel the same as the first one he put on me. It made me smile now, a bittersweetness passing through me.
I hadn't been able to find the weakness in the binding spell with Zephyrus. Binding spells made from love did not have weaknesses. That was a fact of rune fae magic. A law of sorts. A gift from the Creator. Did that in turn mean that it would more swiftly take hold?
