Page 79
Story: This Vicious Dream
“Fox,” I grind out, and the horse follows, Madinia’s mare trailing after us.
I study her face, forcing myself to block out the sight of her tears. Her real tears.
The buzz of a sorrowfly whines near my ear, and I slap it away.
A pink blush traveling to her cheeks when I asked why she saved my life. The feel of her hand in my hair as she pulled me closer, unapologetic in her need.
If this woman ever learns that it’s thoughts ofherI use to block out my own despair, she will laugh and laugh.
My mouth twitches, and I stumble down the track.
“You’re almost there,” Eamonn says, circling low above me. “The flies spawn near those red flowers, and once you cross that small bridge, the flowers—and the flies—disappear.”
“They’ll follow us.”
“They can only travel so far from their nest. They’re already dropping away.”
I scowl, but I don’t have time to argue. Instead, I focus on the warmth of the woman in my arms.
When she opens her eyes, I press my lips to hers.
Madinia
I sigh against Calysian’s mouth, attempting to wiggle closer. But I’m in his arms and he’s…moving?
“Shh,” he murmurs. “Just focus on me. Focus on what I’m making you feel.”
His arms tighten around me, and I relax, even as he stumbles across the path.
I laugh against his mouth, and he grins.
“They’re gone,” Eamonn says, and Calysian raises his head, gently placing me on my feet.
“Are you hurt?”
I frown at him, and it floods into me. The flies, biting at me continuously, the memories I relived one after the other.
I flinch.
Calysian pulls me close once more. “They’re gone. If we come across them again, you need to think of anything that brings you joy.”
I nod numbly, but I have so few things that bring me joy.
This man has been searching for his memories for centuries, and he was able to getbothof us free.
The dark god has more joy in his life than I do.
It would be amusing if it wasn’t so sad.
I wipe at my damp face. “Thank you for helping me.” The words sound oddly formal, and Calysian tenses against me, slowly taking a step back.
“You don’t need to thank me for that.”
Silence stretches between us, and I turn my attention to our surroundings.
“We’re in the heart of the swamp.”
Calysian gives me a stiff nod, turning to check on the horses. Something has shifted between us, gone wrong somehow. Just as it did this morning when I ordered him to release me.
I study her face, forcing myself to block out the sight of her tears. Her real tears.
The buzz of a sorrowfly whines near my ear, and I slap it away.
A pink blush traveling to her cheeks when I asked why she saved my life. The feel of her hand in my hair as she pulled me closer, unapologetic in her need.
If this woman ever learns that it’s thoughts ofherI use to block out my own despair, she will laugh and laugh.
My mouth twitches, and I stumble down the track.
“You’re almost there,” Eamonn says, circling low above me. “The flies spawn near those red flowers, and once you cross that small bridge, the flowers—and the flies—disappear.”
“They’ll follow us.”
“They can only travel so far from their nest. They’re already dropping away.”
I scowl, but I don’t have time to argue. Instead, I focus on the warmth of the woman in my arms.
When she opens her eyes, I press my lips to hers.
Madinia
I sigh against Calysian’s mouth, attempting to wiggle closer. But I’m in his arms and he’s…moving?
“Shh,” he murmurs. “Just focus on me. Focus on what I’m making you feel.”
His arms tighten around me, and I relax, even as he stumbles across the path.
I laugh against his mouth, and he grins.
“They’re gone,” Eamonn says, and Calysian raises his head, gently placing me on my feet.
“Are you hurt?”
I frown at him, and it floods into me. The flies, biting at me continuously, the memories I relived one after the other.
I flinch.
Calysian pulls me close once more. “They’re gone. If we come across them again, you need to think of anything that brings you joy.”
I nod numbly, but I have so few things that bring me joy.
This man has been searching for his memories for centuries, and he was able to getbothof us free.
The dark god has more joy in his life than I do.
It would be amusing if it wasn’t so sad.
I wipe at my damp face. “Thank you for helping me.” The words sound oddly formal, and Calysian tenses against me, slowly taking a step back.
“You don’t need to thank me for that.”
Silence stretches between us, and I turn my attention to our surroundings.
“We’re in the heart of the swamp.”
Calysian gives me a stiff nod, turning to check on the horses. Something has shifted between us, gone wrong somehow. Just as it did this morning when I ordered him to release me.
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