Page 3 of Reign By Wrath

Chapter One

“...hadn’t come to this...”

“...no other way...”

“Winter.”

Voices mingled in my head. Teasing me. Taunting me. Disturbing my rest.

Wasn’t I promised eternal peace? Or did my rage and vengeance earn me the other kind of eternity?

Was that why I kept hearinghim?

“...must act...”

No, go away. I just want to sleep. Let me sleep.

“There’s no time!”

My eyes snapped open. Shooting up, ferocious pain ripped through my chest, tearing a cry from my lips. I hunched over, gasping and clutching my stomach.

Blue-and-black-paisley teardrops swam before my eyes.What is this? What’s going on?

I looked around, trying to breathe as my vision came into focus. I was in a small room. Bland forest wallpaper lined the space, its black and white a complement to the white cabinets, black wall lamps, and black-and-white carpet. Barring the bed I lay on, that was the end of the décor. The room didn’t even have windows—providing a clue to where I was.

One thing I knew for certain was that I wasn’t on campus or in the hospital. None of the dorms or frat houses at my rich school were this small or sparsely decorated. I also knew another thing—

I gently rubbed my chest, feeling the definite lack of a bullet wound.

—I’m not dead.

What happened? I was in the Gallery, there was smoke everywhere, and Leon Dumont...

I felt the punch through my gut like it just happened.

“...have me do...”

My head snapped up. That was one of the voices I heard in my dream. Wherever I was, I wasn’t alone.

Sliding off the bed, I took slow, measured steps to the door—wincing the whole way. I didn’t think my ribs were broken, but they were definitely bruised. Even the thought of breathing hurt.

I opened the door and met with a steep staircase. The voices got louder.

Climbing up, I found myself in a space three times the size of the one I was in. A panoramic wall of windows told me exactly where I was—on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

“What the fuck?” I croaked, stumbling on the same black-and-white carpet. Pressing against the window only provided more proof of what I didn’t want to believe.

I was not in Regalia anymore.

“Luna.”

I turned slowly, meeting Leon Dumont’s gaze.

He was seated at a small, diner-style table across from a man I didn’t know. I stared at them, not moving or breathing.

What was I supposed to think of this situation? Rafael’s dad clearly didn’t kill me, despite being ordered to by Everleigh Starling.

Everleigh Starling.

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