Page 25 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)
“ Y ou’re safe,” the phantom murmured. “You’re alright.”
Emmery lay curled up on the ground, arms gripping her middle—holding her together.
Her heart slogged with each erratic beat, chest too tight for air.
Pressing her palms into her eyes, she banished the images.
The clammy hands tearing her clothes, weight forced atop her, hands pinned and desperate cries no one heard or rather cared—
Choking back the bile burning her throat, she told herself she was alright. She was safe now. It was a dream. Just a dream.
She strung together the vilest curses she could conjure.
“Foul words coming from such a lovely mouth,” the phantom mused, voice soft. His lilting speech was like a song long forgotten only to hear the opening note once again. It wrenched something loose in her chest. He crouched beside her.
Emmery examined her torn skirts and red fingerprints already bruising into her thighs. She yanked the fabric over the evidence. “How much did you see?” she asked.
“Enough to want blood on my hands tonight.” His low, menacing tone echoed from far away but his green eyes softened. “I’m sorry I cut it too close.”
She blinked the tears rimming her eyes away. “You couldn’t have known. But thank you.”
And how had she gotten to this place? One moment she’d been on the floor, squeezing her eyes shut, and the next she was here. Wherever here was.
He rubbed small circles on her back. “Are you alright?”
Emmery nodded, releasing a heavy breath. The strange figure made of mist seemed so real, a distinctly familiar quality about him. His voice, cool scent, the way he spoke—
The lines of his face, vaguely visible, revealed a smirk on his lips. “You’re staring.”
“I just—” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I feel we’ve met before.”
“Oh really?” A smirk. “What makes you say that?”
Emmery squeezed her eyes shut. The nape of her neck tingled. It was like trying to remember a word lingering on the tip of her tongue. “I’m serious.”
“Don’t tease me.” But his eyes flared. “Do you—do you truly remember me?”
Scrunching her face, she said, “I think I do. Your voice or your eyes but—” she broke off, her cheeks burning as she picked out each fleck of green. “It’s mad but I can’t quite place it.”
The phantom gestured to the stars, darkness swaddling them, and the vast nothingness beyond. “Are you going to ask where we are?”
“I’ve had this dream before. I’ve ... been here before.”
He searched her face, his dark mist swirling. The spectre touched her cheek, his fingers like cold breath on her skin. “Do you remember my name?”
“So, we have met before.” Not a question but a statement. A confirmation that she wasn’t losing her mind. This dream was undoubtedly familiar and this man, this phantom, was too. “Do you remember mine?
“I could never forget it.” His eyes shut briefly, green lost in the mist. “Emmery.”
She grinned, her heart taking flight. “Say it again.”
He drew closer, speaking low into her ear. “Don’t get greedy.”
A giggle slipped free, as her eyes slid to his. “And your name?”
“You called me Shade.” He plopped himself beside her and leaned back on his elbows. “I still can’t remember. But it’s nice to pretend to be someone else for a little while. As long as it’s fine with you.”
“This is all a dream. You can do whatever you want.” But Shade seemed right.
Shade’s gaze flicked to hers. “I’m afraid this is more real than you think, love.”
Struck speechless after he casually called her ‘love’, Emmery didn’t have an answer. Since crossing the gate, it was apparent nothing was impossible, so this could be real. Her shaky hand slipped into his and their fingers laced. His eyes widened before fixing on the touch.
Somehow it was natural, like she’d done it a hundred times. She answered, “I have to admit, this is the most visceral dream I’ve ever had.”
Shade pulled his gaze from their tangled fingers back to her. “Something changed. You’re remembering me. Do you remember anything else?”
Emmery frowned, bearing down on that tingling at the nape of her neck. “It feels far away. Like I’m pulling an unravelling thread.”
But it had. Somehow, it had all changed.
“You feel ... different.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “What’s happened?”
There was only one explanation. One thing had changed, and the most significant to date. Even in the dream, the raw force pumped through her veins. She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing her vestige to cloak her.
Emmery smiled, her heart taking flight—a bird soaring for the first time, the wind lifting it up to impossible heights until it forgot the ground was once its prison.
“Magic,” she breathed. “It’s magic.”