Page 42

Sierra

I slept deeply at first, the exhaustion of the day—both emotional and physical—pulling me under like a stone dropped in still water.

The warmth of my mates surrounded me, their bodies like furnaces against my skin.

Callum's arm draped possessively across my waist, his fingers splayed against my hip in that protective way that had become so familiar.

Archer's breath tickled the back of my neck, stirring the fine hairs there with each steady exhale.

Rowen's chest rose and fell steadily beneath my cheek, the ancient rhythm of his immortal heart a lullaby against my ear.

But as the night deepened, my peaceful slumber turned restless. I tossed and turned between them, their comforting warmth suddenly smothering—too intense, too confining. Something was wrong. Something was coming. The certainty of it settled into my bones even as unconsciousness still claimed me.

Darkness crept in at the edges of my consciousness.

Not the natural darkness of sleep, not the velvet blackness behind closed eyelids, but something viscous and alive.

A thick, black sludge that oozed through my dreamscape, consuming everything in its path like acid through paper.

It pulled at me, weighting down my limbs until I couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't even curl my fingers into a fist to fight back.

I tried to scream, but the sound caught in my throat, trapped behind a wall of terror.

The blackness rose around me, climbing up my body like tar, sticking and burning where it touched, leaving phantom pain that felt more real than any waking injury.

I thrashed against its hold, panic flooding my senses, drowning out rational thought.

"Help me!" I finally managed to cry out, but my voice seemed to be swallowed by the darkness itself, the words dissolving into nothing. "Callum! Archer! Rowen!"

No one answered. No one heard me. The connection to my mates—that silver thread that always seemed to bind us—was nowhere to be found in this nightmare landscape.

The sludge rose higher, past my waist, over my ribs, threatening to engulf me completely. Each inch it claimed felt violated, tainted. And then it began to whisper.

Sierra... Sierra... We're coming for you...

The voice wasn't quite the Shadow Beast's—not the same malevolent growl that had haunted me before. This was different, muted somehow. As though speaking through water or from a great distance. Weakened, but no less terrifying for it. It carried ancient malice in its syllables.

Your power... your blood... your body... they will be ours...

"No," I gasped, struggling harder against the clinging darkness, willing the silver energy that usually came so easily to me to manifest. Nothing happened. "Get away from me!"

We will devour you from the inside out. We will wear your skin and walk among them. We will feast on your mates while they think they're kissing you...

The words painted such vivid images of horror that I could almost see them playing out—my body a puppet, my mates unsuspecting victims. The violation of it all sparked something primal within me.

"Stay away!" I screamed, fury mixing with my fear, weaving together into something stronger. "You can't have me!"

The darkness laughed, a sound like glass breaking beneath ice—sharp and wrong and somehow wet.

The sludge reached my neck now, cold and burning at once, threatening to fill my mouth, my nose, my lungs.

I could feel it probing, seeking entrance, testing the barrier of my clenched teeth and pressed lips.

Desperate, I reached inside myself, searching for the well of power I knew lived there. Gran had taught me this—how to call light even in my darkest moments. I focused, imagining a small flame igniting in my center, growing brighter, stronger.

"I am light," I whispered, the words Gran had taught me. "I am fire. I am power."

A warmth spread through my chest, fighting against the chill of the sludge. I cupped my hands before me, willing the energy to manifest, to protect me.

"I command you," I gasped as the sludge reached my chin. "Light!"

A small orb of pure white light burst forth from my palms, piercing the darkness around me. The Shadow Beast screeched, a sound of pain and fury that echoed through my mind. The sludge receded slightly, pulling back from my face, my chest.

The weight lessened, enough that I could move again.

I clutched the light close to my heart and ran, feet splashing through the shallow remnants of the black ooze.

I didn't know where I was going—there was nothing to see, even with my magical light illuminating the space around me.

Just endless darkness in all directions.

"Gran?" I called out, hoping that somehow, somewhere, she could hear me. "Gran, help me!"

The Shadow Beast's screech came again, more distant this time, but I could feel it regrouping, following me. I pushed harder, legs pumping, lungs burning.

Then I heard it—voices, muffled and distant, but achingly familiar. My mates. They were calling for me, trying to reach me through the veil of this nightmare.

"I'm here!" I shouted, changing direction toward the sound of their voices. "I'm coming!"

A chill wind suddenly cut through the darkness, whipping my hair across my face. It hadn't been cold before. The sludge had burned, but the air itself had been stagnant, oppressive. This was different. Fresh. Real.

I stumbled forward, the light in my palms flickering but still burning. The voices grew louder, clearer.

"Sierra!" That was Callum's voice, tight with concern.

"Where is she?" Archer, his usual calm completely shattered.

"There!" Rowen's deep command, laced with something I rarely heard from him.

Fear.

I ran faster, hope surging in my chest. They were looking for me. They would find me. They would save me from this nightmare.

"I'm here!" I called again, pushing forward.

And then, suddenly, there was nothing beneath my feet. No ground, no sludge, just empty air. I pitched forward, arms flailing, the light tumbling from my hands and extinguishing as I fell into nothingness.

A scream tore from my throat as I plummeted through the darkness, the wind now howling around me. This was it.

This was how I would die, falling forever in an endless void.

But then strong arms caught me, wrapping securely around my waist, halting my descent with a jolt that knocked the breath from my lungs. I gasped, eyes flying open to find myself staring into obsidian depths filled with frantic concern.

Rowen.

His powerful wings beat steadily on either side of us, keeping us suspended in midair. His claws, the black-tipped talons of his demon form, dug slightly into my skin where he held me. His face, usually so controlled, was contorted with worry.

"I've got you." His deep voice vibrated through his chest against mine, emotions welling within them. "I've got you, little mate."

The night air was cold against my sweat-slicked skin, making me shiver in his arms. I blinked, disoriented, as reality reasserted itself. We were outside. Actually outside, flying above the grounds of the estate. The full moon hung heavy in the sky above us, casting everything in silvery light.

"What—" I choked out, my voice raw from screaming. "What happened?"