Page 62 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

T halia woke to soft morning light pouring in through the small arched windows, golden rays cutting through the last shreds of sleep.

The temple chamber was warmer now than it had been in the chill of night, and the sounds of early morning movement filtered in from the hall, footsteps, distant chatter, the low chiming of temple bells.

Across the room, Cellen and Marand sat close together on the bed, whispering and laughing under their breath, the rumpled blanket pooled around them.

Nyla, still nestled in her own bed, cracked one eye open and glanced at Thalia, raising her brows in silent commentary.

Thalia bit back a smile, catching the unspoken question in her friend’s look

Did they really share a bed all night? a smile spread over her face as she gave her a small silent nod to confirm

They dressed quickly and made their way to the main dining hall, where long tables were set with simple but hearty fare, fresh bread, soft cheese, and bowls of fruit. As they sat down and began helping themselves, the air buzzed with quiet excitement.

Marand, sipping from a steaming cup of tea, grinned at the group. “You’ll all be thrilled to know,” she said, placing her cup down with dramatic flair, “the priestesses have arranged for horses to be brought around within the hour.”

Thalia froze mid-bite. “Oh no,” she muttered, dread coiling in her stomach. “Not horses.”

Cellen immediately perked up. “Oh, thank the stars. We’ve finally got horses. I swear I have blisters on top of blisters” He grinned, nudging Thalia. “Some of us weren’t built for endless trekking, you know.”

Thalia slumped in her seat. “I am going to die. Fall off and break my neck before we even find the forest.”

Nyla laughed, nudging her gently. “You’ll be fine. I’ll ride alongside you the whole time. We will keep the pace steady”

“Thanks” Thalia said dryly, and the table broke into laughter.

As the laughter faded into the soft clatter of spoons and the quiet crackle of the hearth, Nyla leaned in, “I asked the priestess last night if I could look through the old star charts. Said I needed them for meditation practice.” She smirked faintly. “She didn’t ask questions.”

Thalia straightened, interest piqued as Nyla unrolled a small scrap of parchment she’d tucked into her belt. “I found a set of constellation maps,” Nyla continued. “Two, actually, one modern, one pre-war. I compared them both against the old forest borders marked on Vaelith’s map.”

She tapped her finger near the edge of the marked territory.

“And here’s the thing. Every major constellation shifts slightly overhead over the course of the year.

But not Reticulum. The brightest star in its cluster stays fixed.

And it’s the only star that sits directly above this edge of the forest. Not just near it, a bove it . ”

Thalia stared at the spot Nyla had pointed out, a slow smile pulling at her lips. Her chest swelled with something close to triumph. “He told me," she said quietly, half to herself. Nyla raised her brows. “So, he gave you the answer without meaning to?”

A flush of satisfaction warmed Thalia’s skin. For all Vaelith’s warnings, all his threats and interference, he’d made a mistake, he’d underestimated her.

“Do you think it will… test us?” Nyla asked, brow furrowed.

Thalia paused, the image of the dream-forest flickering behind her eyes. The way the path never seemed to end, the first few times she was there. “Maybe. But we’ll get through it. Together.”

Marand stood, brushing crumbs from her hands. “I’m going to check if the horses have arrived. If one of them is named Widowmaker , I’m claiming it for Thalia.”

“I hate all of you,” Thalia called after her, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed the affection in her voice.

The morning air was cool and sweet, the faint scent of morning dew clinging to the wildflowers that grew around the edge of the temple grounds.

Thalia moved briskly, double-checking the contents of her satchel while Nyla helped her roll up their sleeping mats and Cellen, predictably, groaned and moaned as he repacked his belongings with dramatic flair.

“I swear,” Cellen muttered, tightening the straps of his worn pack, “Marand’s been gone forever.”

“Aww Cellen, are you missing her?” Nyla teased, “Missing her warm caresses?” she turned her back to him wrapping her arms around herself making loud kissing noises.

“Hey, I don’t sound like that “

Thalia laughed despite the nerves in her stomach, brushing a hand over the satchel where the old maps were safely tucked away. Her fingers lingered there, a quiet reassurance to herself. They were so close. She just had to survive this horse ride.

A soft rustle came from behind them as one of the temple priestesses approached, her arms laden with bundles of wrapped food and water flasks. “For your journey,” she said kindly, placing them down. “There’s some dried fruit, honey cakes, and fresh spring water. The gods walk with you.”

“Thank you,” Thalia said, bowing slightly.

“I call dibs on all the honey cakes,” Cellen added.

A scream pierced the morning air, sharp and panicked, followed by the rapid thud of footsteps pounding across the courtyard.

A young priestess burst into view, her robes tangled around her legs, face pale and stricken, breath coming in gasps as she stumbled toward them, eyes wide with alarm. “Lord Vaelith is at the gate!”

Time stilled.

Thalia’s heart plummeted to her stomach. Cold rushed down her limbs like a wave crashing over her. She stumbled back a step as Cellen swore violently beside her.

“What, how?” Nyla whispered, stunned.

Thalia’s blood pounded in her ears. She turned, sprinting toward the temple gates with the others close behind her. Priestesses streamed past them, some frightened, others curious, all drawn to the commotion outside.

They reached the threshold of the outer wall just in time to see the heavy gates thrown wide open.

Vaelith stood in the morning light, tall and imposing, the dark folds of his cloak whispering in the breeze.

His silver eyes were burning, almost gold, with fury, and his jaw was clenched tight.

His presence was a thunderstorm held just barely in check, a quiet before the lightning strike. Beside him stood Marand.

Panic clawed its way up Thalia’s throat. Oh gods.

She scanned Marand’s face, she stood stiffly her expression stricken. Worry carved deep lines across her usually calm face, glancing between Vaelith and the temple entrance, clearly distressed.

Vaelith’s eyes locked on Thalia, he took a single step forward.

Nyla was the first to recover, stepping protectively in front of Thalia. Cellen fell in at her side, his hand moving subtly toward the hidden blade at his belt.

“Thalia,” he said, voice sharp, booming across the distance, “We need to talk.”

The priestesses nearby stilled, watching with wide eyes, confused murmurs passing between them.

Thalia couldn’t speak. Her mind reeled. What had happened? Why was Marand not taking the chance to escape from him ? She had to get to her friend.

Vaelith’s voice rang out over the courtyard, firm but not unkind. “Thalia. Come speak to me. Please.”

His gaze usually guarded, unreadable held something raw now. Something that pierced right through her ribs and into the pit of her heart.

“You know I’ve never hurt you,” he added, taking another slow step closer. “And that’s not my intent now.”

“Dragon lies!” one of the priestesses snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. She knew that cruel voice, Merryweather, she watched in horror as the old woman stepped forward, fury in her eyes, her hand already crackling with unrestrained power.

Thalia’s breath stilled in her lungs. She looked to Vaelith, then to Marand, who stood silent beside him, troubled, unsure, her fists clenched at her sides. Thalia’s thoughts raced. Her gut churned.

Vaelith had never harmed her. Not once. Even when furious, he’d restrained himself, pulled back.

Even when his eyes had glowed molten and his magic had trembled in the air like a storm about to break, he had never crossed that line.

She knew he was dangerous, and she was afraid of him.

Aric’s words of warning rang in her ears, yet for some unknown reason she believed he wouldn’t hurt her.

Indecision swirled in her mind, maybe if she walked over to him, she could distract him enough to get Marand away. But then what?

He took another step forward, ignoring the hiss of warning from the old priestess at the gate. “There are things you don’t know. Things you need to know, Thalia.”

Thalia stepped forward, decision made.

Nyla’s fingers clamp around her arm like iron. “Don’t,” Nyla hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Marand” was Thalia’s only pleading reply.

“She needs to know the truth!” Vaelith growled, frustrated, his voice echoing like thunder.

“The high fae will return!” another priestess shouted from the line forming behind the gates. Her eyes burned with zealotry. “They will return and liberate us from your cursed kind!”

Marand moved, leaning close to Vaelith, whispering something too low to hear. Vaelith’s jaw ticked as he gave her a tight nod. Marand turned and began walking slowly toward Thalia.

The scream tore through the air, followed by a blinding flash of golden light.

Thalia didn’t even have time to react before the courtyard erupted.

Magic struck like lightning, fast and brutal.

Vaelith spun, cloak flaring as he swept an arc of shadow across the space before him.

The blast collided with his barrier and ricocheted, exploding against the nearest wall.

Stone shattered, dust and rubble raining down around them.

“Stop!” Thalia shouted, stumbling forward.

No one listened.