Page 47 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

Shatter

Calliste

Calliste was understandably confused about why she stood before the bedchamber door, which she knew Theron had locked. It was ajar now, and she could see the glowing silver light in his study.

She glanced over her shoulder at the bed. Two people lay there in a close embrace, asleep—herself and Theron. Most of the golden candles on the ledge behind the headboard had flickered out, leaving only a few skipping lights here and there.

When she looked at her ethereal body, she was wearing the same malachite-green robe Theron had removed before carrying her here.

The harsh, silvery glow streaming from the study seemed familiar, and after a moment, she guessed who had invaded her dreams again. She pulled the door open and stepped out of the bedchamber.

The inky depths of night poured in through the wide windows, flooding Theron’s study. The moon must have moved to the other side of the sky, as only the stars burned in the endless darkness. Her pendant glowed green, illuminating her reflection in the glass.

Hypnos sat at Theron’s desk, ghostly pale, even for a god with such a fair complexion.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, examining him with a healer’s eye. He looked ill; his face was drawn and tight, and even the silvery aura about him seemed sickly. “I asked you not to invade my dreams like this, Hypnos.”

His eyes glinted like keen blades. “Nobody will be telling me what I’m supposed to do in my domain.” Even his voice was colorless.

She took a deep breath, motionless, indignation simmering. “Why are you here?”

He tilted his head, as if considering her question, then rose, paced the room, and halted a step away from her, wrapped in his icy scent of green apples.

Up close, he seemed to lack his divinity, lackluster, as if all light had been drained from him. His eyes drifted around Theron’s study. “Why not… me?” His voice was hoarse and broken.

Her anger faded, replaced by confusion. “Not you ?”

He glanced up at the phoenix mural on the wall behind her and then refocused on her.

“What do you see in a mortal with a troubled past and a fraction of the power I possess? With that light glowing in your soul, you’re too extraordinary for him.

I could give you so much more.” For a brief moment, his mask slipped.

The immortal hiding beneath it had lived for so long that true emotions were something he had discarded eons ago, now struggling to understand choices others made.

“Why cling to that fleeting mortal life?”

“Immortality would be too much for me, Hypnos.”

“Fine. Forget immortality. Forget everything else.” His fingers traced the air just over her cheek. “What about… me? As I am.”

Her answer came from a place of knowing both of them well. “We are too unalike, Hypnos.”

“Opposites can attract, Calliste.”

“We’re not opposites. We’re realms apart.”

Night seemed to devour him, filling him with darkness.

He withdrew his hand, far too sharply, as if he was shutting the door, his mask slipping back into place.

His smile spread like a curved icicle—lopsided, frozen and bright.

“Pity.” He turned away from her, his gait stiff as he sauntered back to Theron’s desk and swiped his hand over its surface.

Suddenly, it was alight with an unearthly glow.

“Then let me show you the foolishness of your choice.” The shine dimmed, and the desk appeared transparent, as if made of glass.

She could see scrolls hidden in the drawers.

“Here,” Hypnos pointed. “This is the document you might be interested in—it’s the information he’s been gathering about you behind your back.”

She froze, staring at the parchment. “What’s in there?”

Hypnos’ voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Things you didn’t want to tell him, which he found out anyway,” he smiled coldly.

“Calliste, did you truly believe that someone of his standing would allow you close without first assessing whether he should?” He shook his head, the rubies in his poppy crown glinting like fires.

“You did. You thought he was giving you his unconditional trust. Well, he wasn’t.

And, much like you, he didn’t lie—he simply didn’t tell you the truth. ”

“He said he didn’t require it anymore.”

He stood, swiping his hand over the desk, and it regained its solidity.

“Because he already knows it. Perhaps he wanted you in his bed without messy complications, but now that he has what he wanted…”

She refused to believe it. “He’s not like that.” She covered her face with her hands, her mind already racing. “Why did you have to do this?”

The scent of green apples intensified in the air as she looked up to see him standing in front of her.

“I didn’t do anything, Calliste. You both made your choices.

Yours was to keep silent. His was to seek the truth behind your back.

I’ll leave it to you to handle the consequences.

” He turned his gaze to the starlit night beyond the glass wall.

“However, I am forgiving. I will take you back, Calliste. But you will have to crawl to me.”

She stared at him, her heart aching, chest frozen. “I don’t believe you. It’s just another one of your games.”

“Is it?” His eyes narrowed with amusement. “Luckily, you can ask him when you’re awake. If you dare.”

With that, he raised his hand and touched her forehead.

Everything blurred, distorted, and darkened for good.