Page 29 of A Crown of Victory and Vengeance (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #2)

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

ZANDYR

T onight, I felt the exact moment real Evie entered the dream world.

The chains vanished, the screaming stopped, and I was left in nothing but darkness, with the symbols of my ancestors looming above me from the walls.

I took three sharp breaths, letting the pain fade enough to rise. Evie’s presence fluttered through the cavernous shadows, calling out to me.

The pulse of her on the other end of my mind was truly the only thing keeping me upright during this war.

I shrugged on my robe, hissing as the fabric touched the bloody wounds which were quickly closing, and hurried toward the dark wall of whispers that did its best to stop me each time.

Failure.

Traitor.

Weak.

I clenched my jaw and forced my eyes shut. Right before the masked ball her beautiful mind had conjured up, I’d learned the hard way that keeping them open led to ghastly images of death. My army littered on a bloody field, Ryker decapitated, Kaya’s dowry chest filled with her blood, and Evie’s throat slit.

The shadows pounced on me as soon as I stepped through the wall, sinking their hooks into my mind. The cold scraped against my bones.

You are a disgrace to your dynasty.

You will destroy your Clan.

You don’t deserve her.

I finally breached the wall on the other end, inhaling sharply. The heat from Evie’s side of the dream chased the ice away. But even as I rushed forward, the shadows laughed darkly.

She will never have you again.

My eyes popped open. This time, the dream was a beautiful meadow permanently stuck just at the cusp of dusk, bathed in shades of mauve–the perfect blend of our Clan colors.

The trees were alive with small twinkling lights between their leaves, reflecting on the still crystal lake.

It was the kind of place where Evie and I could seal ourselves away from the rest of the world. Just the two of us.

The relief quickly turned to alarm as soon as my gaze found her.

She sat on a tall amethyst rock overlooking the lake, small hands clutching the edge tightly. Her head was caved between her shoulders, hair shielding her face.

She looked…crushed.

In a flash, I climbed the rock, ready to destroy whoever or whatever had pained her. “Menace?”

She jerked her head toward me. The second our eyes met, the sorrow in hers slashed through me.

“Who’s Lythar?”