Page 87 of Ballad of Nightmares

Sam ran his hand through his hair before wrapping his fingers around the railing next to her, and he hung his head. “Five-hundred, twenty-three years… seven months… thirteen days… and—“ he looked down at his watch “—thirty-nine minutes.”

Ana seemed to stagger as she turned toward him. “You’ve never left this place,” she seemed to realize.

“Not since the war,” he said softly.

“Sam…” Her hand squeezed on his shoulder, but Sam didn’t look at her.

His mind filled with that final decision he’d made. With Millie and Rolfe at his sides. That day the rest of the world was on fire, and he’d let his power grow and grow, seen how it morphed and bent the sky and ground. He released everything that day to protect them.

“How long will we wait?” Millie asked as they watched the clouds envelop the sky.

“Not long,” Sam promised her. “Enough time to heal here. We’ll take it all when it’s time.”

Screams filled the sky, the smoke billowing and mingling with the stretch of clouds. Sam inhaled the stench of the fires, the bodies, the noise of the screams, and the bones breaking.

“When it is finally time…” Millie began, catching Sam’s eyes. “I want the eastern edge.”

“Why?”

“It’s where my family is buried,” she told him. “It’s where King Atrion found me as a child and sold me to the southern army.” Her neck stretched as she looked out at the sea of fire. “My only regret in that life is that I did not get to kill him myself.”

Sam considered her a long moment, a memory of the battlefield and a man evaporating into a pile of worms entering his mind, and Sam started to turn away. “Revenge, Milliscent,” he said softly. “You’ll get it.”

The squeeze of Ana’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality, and he reached for her fingers, giving her palm a kiss.

“What about you?” he asked.

Ana sank her head onto his shoulder, sighing. “Right before the shadow dealer took me underground,” she admitted. “I remember him telling me to take one last long look at it because if I never left this place, it would be the last time I’d feel it.” She shook her head. “I honestly thought it to be an exaggeration. I thought, how could it be possible to shadow and cloud an entire kingdom from the rest of the world?”

“Immense power,” Sam said. “And a fuck of a reason.”

Ana turned into him. “You never told me why he turned you,” she said. “I mean, I know you fought in the war, but I don’t know what you did before. Who you were, why you decided to live.”

Sam’s stomach churned to the point he thought he might vomit. “Such sad things… Why do you want to know?”

“Because it is you,” she replied. “It’s what made you into who you are. I want to knowyou.”

He wanted her to know him too.

Sam’s gaze tore through her, and he reached up to push a stray curl from her face, his touch barely there, and yet it warmed her straight to her core.

“Are you sure you’re not a witch?” he whispered.

She felt her lips curling upward as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, jaw, and neck. “That’s the second time you’ve asked. Why would you think I am?” she asked.

His hand curled around her face, tipping her chin to look at him. “Because I am spelled beneath your touch, your presence.” He paused to swallow, his eyes narrowing like he were confused. “You have bewitched me, wicked girl.” His hand trailed down her skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her flesh, and she leaned into the touch. “My mind. My body. My demented soul… It’s yours.”

Ana had grown accustomed to men saying things they thought she might like. Trying to swoon her. To get her into their beds. Usually declarations of how beautiful she was and how lovely she would look on their arm. Sitting quietly on some throne as their newest trophy.

But there was something about the things Sam said.

Something about his words that seemed to surprise even him. As if he didn’t know he meant it, but deep down he did. And something about that made his words different, made them seem real.

“Ana…” Her name was barely a whisper on his breath, but it sounded stuck to his tongue. A lingering poison destined to kill him slowly.

And what a beautiful, slow death it would be for the both of them.

“You are ridiculous,” she told him.