Page 33 of Lady of the Nightmares

I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck does that mean? When will she wake?”

It was a poorly phrased question, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. I knew what that meant—or I would if it happened to one of us. But Lonnie didn’t have magic like we did.

The healer licked her fingers one by one, as if savoring the taste of a particularly decadent dessert, then jumped down from the trunk she’d been using as a step stool. “I can’t say. Perhaps another day?”

“What if she doesn’t,” I growled.

“If not in a day or so, then I would search for an alternative. I cannot claim to know everything, but there is no one better in this city, I swear by the Source. I might suggest consulting a seer.”

If the irony wasn’t so idyllic, I would think it impossible.

The sound of the door banging shut echoed through the room, and I was too exhausted to care if it meant the healer had finally left or someone else had arrived.

I jerked in sudden pain as Quill’s sharp talons scraped down my arm, digging deep into my flesh. For half a second, I welcomed the pain—grounding—before I blinked to alertness.

“What the fuck.” I tried to shake him off. “Get off.”

He let out a mournful sound and leapt into the air, tearing at my skin as he went.

I hissed, glaring down at the shallow cut, then up at the raven now perched on the end of the bed.

My eyes shifted from the open wounds on my arm to the slumbering figure on the bed, and my heartbeat sped up, a plan beginning to take shape in my mind.

A chill ran through me as I thought of the barely formed notion, mixed with an odd sensation of interest. Was this what it had been like for Bael? Or was the decision easier for him? Simpler.

Lonnie rustled in her sleep and swallowed, her throat bobbing. I imagined sinking my teeth into that creamy skin. Feeling her pulse pound against my mouth while she shuddered beneath me, her mouth open like—

I shook my head, shocked at the direction of my own thoughts. That could not…would not happen. That was the entire point of this. Nothing I did was for or about me, and that’s how I would justify this latest villainy.

Staring at my arm, I sighed with displeasure to see it had healed over. Clenching my teeth, I steeled myself and inhaled deeply, wishing against all hope that not looking would make the act less wrong. Any less fucking depraved.

Even though I had my doubts about this woman, I wished I had the chance to at least ask her permission. At least warn her that her emotions would be tampered with in the upcoming days or even weeks. Then again, I presumed she would prefer that to death.

Better still, if she turned out to have information about the afflicted, then it would be worth it.

I’d do anything to protect the kingdom, no matter who it sacrificed—whose life it ruined—me, her, Bael, it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t as if I was bonding her to me…maybe she didn’t even have to know.

I glanced at her once more, still asleep and unmoving. Then, before I could think twice about it, I bit down hard on my own arm and brought the bleeding wound to her mouth.

13

LONNIE

THE OBSIDIAN PALACE, THE CITY OF EVERLAST

Istepped out of the shadows into acrumbling chamber and froze as someone cleared their throat. “Your heart is beating rather quickly.”

My gaze traveled up, and my breath caught. An unfamiliar Fae male lounged before me, treating a faded, threadbare armchair as if it were a throne. His face was obscured, but somehow, I could tell by his tone and posture that he was smirking at me.

“Did you steal that?”

I almost laughed at myself. “Who are you?” would have been a better question. He seemed surprised as well.

“What?” he said in a tone that was so arrogant—so familiar—that it only added to my confusion.

“That’s the mask the herald wears to open the hunts. Did you steal it?”

---