Page 14 of This Vicious Dream (Kingdom of Death #1)

Madinia

My knees quake, terror shredding my insides.

Calysian is going to die.

Wings explode into my vision. Wings so massive, they stir the air. A deafening screech pierces the swamp, the sound so sharp, the serpent darts away, its body coiling down, disappearing into the depths of the water.

I stumble back, slamming into Fox.

Talons rake through the water, throwing up a spray of mud and reeds. The wings are larger than any I’ve ever seen, each feather sharp-edged and glinting like a poised blade.

Its hooked beak snaps at the air, and it lets out one more victorious screech.

“You have the most interesting timing,” Calysian says.

The mammoth bird lands next to me. “That’s a strange way of saying thank you.”

Eamonn.

A heavy weight lifts from my chest and I crouch down, looking him in the eye. “Thank you.”

Calysian keeps a wary gaze on the water as he makes his way to firmer ground. “I appreciate the help.”

“I can’t hold this form for long.” A blink of the eye, and Eamonn is a tiny gray bird. “The larger the form, the more energy it takes.” He darts into the air, wings beating as he flies away.

Calysian begins checking Fox for injuries, and I do the same, gently running my hands down each of Hope’s legs. But my mind remains on Eamonn.

“You don’t think it’s strange that he keeps showing up to help you?”

“He has done so since I crossed into this continent after leaving Eprotha.”

“Why?”

Calysian is quiet for a long moment. “Eamonn never talks about his past. All I can determine is that he was cursed to never use a human form.”

Just as Calysian was cursed to roam without his power. Without his memories.

I suppose it makes sense that the two would become friends.

“We need to find somewhere to camp.” Untying Fox’s lead rope, Calysian begins walking him along the narrow path, pants sticking to his legs, water pouring from his boots.

I keep a careful eye on the water surrounding us as I follow with Hope. And all I can see is the grim resignation on Calysian’s face as he reached for his sword just minutes ago.

“I thought you were going to die.” The words are out before I can clamp down on them.

Calysian stops, ignoring Fox’s displeased snort as he turns to face me. “I’m hard to kill.”

“Something tells me that serpent could have done it.” I’m suddenly so tired, my limbs heavy with exhaustion. And the thought of him dead… “Stay alive, Calysian.”

His expression turns almost tender. “Would you mourn me, sweetheart?”

I level him with a hard stare. “No. If you left me alone in this place, I would curse your name and spit on your corpse.”

He bursts out laughing. The sound is warm and open, and it curls around me, caressing all kinds of hidden places.

“Ah, beautiful woman, I’d expect nothing less.”

I swallow thickly. Despite my best efforts, I haven’t forgotten his promise. “You never should have let me taste you. Now I’ll stop at nothing to make you mine.”

Calysian hasn’t forgotten that promise either. I see his commitment to that promise each time his gaze lingers on my mouth, his eyes hot, lips curved in a sensual smile.

And yet he’s waiting for me to go to him. It’s not what I would have expected from him. But Calysian excels at doing the unexpected.

When he continues walking, I have to catch my breath.

He’s the dark god. According to anyone who knows of him, he’s morally destitute.

And yet…men have been trying to take from me since before I grew breasts. Despite his vow that I’ll be his , Calysian has been achingly careful. He wants me to take from him .

This man chained you and would have kept you that way until he got what he wanted.

There is that.

But…some small part of me—the part that allowed me to survive in that tower—respects Calysian for besting me. Unlike Kyldare, he didn’t cheat. Didn’t threaten innocents.

He didn’t need to.

And when he realized I might truly be in danger…

He let me go.

The mud sucks at my boot, and I stumble. Calysian’s eyes cut to me and I wave my hand, gesturing for him to keep moving.

The deeper we travel into the swamp, the darker the water becomes, until I find myself staring into the depths, lungs tight as I wait for whatever lurks within to show itself. The ground shifts unpredictably between patches of firmer earth and stretches of sucking mud. The horses are slow, cautious, as we guide them through shallow pools of water in places where the track disappears.

Somewhere to our left, something splashes, and I jolt. Hope lets out a snort, and I tighten my grip on her lead rope.

I hate this place.

Hours later, I spot something I can’t ignore, close enough to the water to make my mouth go dry.

Inching toward the edge of the path, I watch the water carefully. When nothing lurches from the depths, I snatch the tiny trinket, shoving it into my pocket.

“What are you doing?”

Calysian’s gaze is hungry as he watches me. No one has ever looked at me like that before—as if they’re desperate to learn everything about me.

I shift uncomfortably, and he narrows his eyes. “I’ve watched you do this since the tower. Just give me this. Please.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said please , and my eyebrows shoot up. His lips curve in a crooked grin, his dimple flashing.

It’s the dimple that does it, although I’d never tell him that.

I pull the small handful of rocks from my pocket, each carefully chosen for its uniqueness. One is a strange shade of purple, while another is covered in tiny swirls. My favorite is a pebble so smooth it feels like glass in my hand.

“Daharak….” My throat closes as grief threatens to swamp me, and I take a shaky breath. Strangely, it’s Calysian’s eyes that help tether me to the here and now.

“She collected… collects stones. Not just any stones. She loves the unusual. Sometimes, she wouldn’t even bother leaving the ship when we docked—she was always so impatient to get back to sea. But when she did, she would inevitably find some stone that delighted her.” I let out a hoarse laugh. “The wild pirate queen had a secret collection of pretty rocks.”

“And now you’re collecting them for her.”

I shrug, feeling my cheeks heat. “She likes them. They make me think of her.”

And each time I choose a stone I think she’ll like, I’m reaffirming the fact that she’s not dead. One day, I’ll give them to her.

“Were you lovers?” Calysian’s voice is low.

“No. It wasn’t like that with us. It was…she was a friend. And I don’t have any friends.”

“You did. Once.”

He’s talking about Prisca and Asinia.

Asinia grinning at me, a ridiculous crown on her head. A crown made of flowers. Despite myself, I feel my lips curve, and her grin widens.

Prisca watching me with those strange eyes. “Stay.” Her voice is tight. “Stay with us, Madinia. We need you.”

They had needed me, and I’d left anyway. Was that why they had never come for me? Why they’d left me to the consequences of my actions?

“You said when I regained my memories, I’d find myself wondering how I ended up here alone, and where my so-called friends are.”

Calysian winces. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Shoving the rocks back into my cloak pocket, I get to my feet. “We should find somewhere to camp.”

“Madinia.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. I don’t want to talk about this. Can’t he see that?

“Look at me.”

I meet his eyes. His expression is gentle. There’s no sign of the arrogant coolness I associate with the other part of him. With Calpharos.

“You fought a war together. You saved each other’s lives. Friendship like that doesn’t just fade away. You’ll see them again. And Daharak…we’ll search for news of her people. After I get the grimoire, I’ll go with you to Nyrridor.”

The city closest to where I hid the grimoire. It’s the third largest city in Telanthris, and we’ll need to stop to buy supplies. It was also the second place Daharak docked so long ago—just days after we restocked in the small town of Elunthar.

My heart aches as memories slam into me, one after the other.

Daharak’s satisfied smile, the pirates jostling, ready to disembark and enjoy everything the city had to offer. It was before I knew Kyldare was hunting me, and I slipped off the ship, returning without the grimoire. I’d been so certain I had done my part, and that time in my life was over.

“Madinia.” Calysian’s voice is firm and I meet his eyes once more. They’re serious. Intent. “We will learn what happened to them. I promise.”

I nod, glancing away. I’ll take the offer for the kindness that it is. But the chances that Calpharos will want to help me with anything are…low.

And yet…if Calysian is making promises to me, he’s the one in charge, and not the dark god. Calpharos wouldn’t bother explaining himself or promising anything. He would coldly inform me of our plans.

They’re the same man, you fool. And you’re about to ensure this part of him disappears forever.

My breath hitches, and I focus on Daharak and the others. Logically, I know a few days won’t make any difference in my search. Not after three years. And still, my bones ache to do something.

Calysian continues to scan our surroundings, looking for the best place to camp, and I follow his instincts, so tired I’m almost stumbling. When he lets out a pleased hum, I have to force myself to lift my head.

“What is it?” The track has widened just enough for the horses to fit side-by-side, and I follow his gaze.

The plants are brighter here, the green even more vivid against the drab browns and yellows of the surrounding swamp. Broad leaves spread out like fans, water pooling around the roots.

Calysian kneels to inspect the ground. He runs his fingers over the mud, before surveying a series of tracks.

Relief sweeps through me in a rush that leaves me lightheaded. This kind of vegetation, plus animal tracks…

Fresh water. Somewhere close.

The tracks lead us along the edge of a shallow pool, the water green and stagnant. But the tracks continue, disappearing into a dense patch of undergrowth. Calysian breaks off a large tree branch, allowing us to carefully lead the horses deeper.

And then I hear it.

The sound is faint, barely more than a trickle. We break through the undergrowth, and my breath stutters from my lungs.

The swamp opens into a small clearing—a glimpse of joy carved out of the endless muck. A shallow stream winds through the clearing, the water clear as it flows over smooth stones. The horses don’t wait, moving toward the water and lowering their heads to drink.

Calysian crouches by the stream, cupping his hand and inhaling deep before taking a cautious sip.

“It’s fresh. Cool too.”

The stream is flanked by raised patches of grass, soft and bright green. It feels like a different world after slogging through the muddy, dark mire surrounding us.

“There’s more,” Calysian points upstream to a small pool, where the stream widens and slows. It’s edged by moss-covered rocks. “I’ll check it.”

He turns and makes his way toward the pool while I kneel next to the stream, gulping at the water until my thirst is quenched. We’ve been conserving our own supply, aware that it could take us some time to find a fresh source.

“It’s deep enough to wash both the horses and ourselves without stirring up the drinking water downstream,” Calysian announces.

As we untack the horses, checking them again for injuries, tendrils of dark power sweep toward me, luring me toward the grimoire. Grinding my teeth, I ignore the urge to turn and sprint toward its hiding place.

Calysian catches my wrist as I go to pull Hope’s saddle from her back. “Go bathe. I’ll finish here.”

I open my mouth, but he has that steely glint in his eyes that tells me he’ll be stubborn about this. Besides, I’m desperate to soak away the dirt that clings to every inch of my body.

Poking around in my saddlebag, I pull out clean clothes and a bar of soap, then leave Calysian to his task.

The water is cool enough to make me shiver, and I dunk my entire body, sloughing away sweat and mud. I keep one eye on Calysian, but he’s ruthlessly angling his gaze away from me, his jaw a hard line.

I watch him as I lather soap across my skin.

As much as I’ve attempted to ignore reality, he won’t be traveling with me to find Daharak and the others after he gets the grimoire.

I’ve felt the lure of that dark power. I can feel it even now. And Calysian won’t be able to help himself. He’ll need to find the other grimoires.

These are the last days I’ll spend with him. And then we will separate.

And if he truly does appear to be a threat to this world—and anyone I’ve ever cared about—my only chance will be to kill him before he gets the other two grimoires.

Can I do that? Can I thrust my sword through his back?

Nausea sweeps through me, and my chest turns strangely hollow.

He wouldn’t be the same man. I have to remember that. Killing him would save this world.

My lip trembles and I bite down until it aches. No. I refuse to accept such a thing. I won’t accept it until I’m staring into Calpharos’s eyes and I know for sure that there is no other way.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I sweep the soap down my arms, basking in the feeling of finally being clean.

Calysian murmurs something to Fox, as he checks Hope’s hooves. His gaze is still carefully turned from my body as he begins to set up our camp.

This is a man who is used to taking what he wants. And yet in this, he’s waiting for my invitation.

He freezes, and I can see the stiffness of his muscles. He knows I’m naked, my eyes on him. And it’s taking everything in him not to turn and face me.

The thought of all that passion and fury unleashed…

I shiver.

“If you’re done, I’d like to bathe before the sun sets,” Calysian’s voice is tight.

I’m vindictive enough to splash my way out of the water, my blood turning hot, my fists clenching.

I don’t want to obsess about the way his damp clothes cling to his hard body, caressing every ridge and plane. I don’t want to bask in the caged need in his eyes when he looks at me. I don’t want to fantasize about the raw power of him unleashed, devouring me whole.

But I do. It’s a tension that thrums beneath my skin, refusing to be ignored.

And it’s utterly infuriating.

The humid air caresses my skin as I pull on the shirt I stole from him. When I’m finished, Calysian stalks toward the water, as if I’ve suddenly turned invisible.

I sit on an overturned log next to the blankets he piled on the ground—our bed for the night. He may have given me privacy, but unless he asks me to return the favor, I’m going to enjoy the view.

Calysian knows I’m watching. I can tell in the way he rolls his shoulders, his chin jutting arrogantly. When he turns, I suck in a sharp breath.

Gods.

Every part of him is…large. He’s tall, thick, built like he was born to swing a sword. To lead armies. His broad shoulders only serve to highlight the slab of muscle he calls a chest, while his ridged abdomen makes my fingers twitch with the need to touch and explore. His thighs are thick and muscular, but my gaze is already moving just a little higher…

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Your gaze burns like a brand,” he growls, and I shiver.

“Would you prefer if I looked away?”

“No. Look your fill, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon enough.”

My body is suddenly hot, needy.

His eyes meet mine across the distance. “You need relief. Ask me to give it to you.”

“Calysian…”

“I’ll make you feel good, Madinia. I want you. You want me back. That’s all that matters. Tell me you want me.”

I take a shuddering breath. When I don’t reply, he shakes his head, turning away.

“Calysian.”

“I want the words. Say them.”

“I want you.” The words are out before I can pull them back.

The look Calysian gives me is half baffled surprise, half sensual promise. And then he’s out of the pool and prowling toward me, water dripping from his naked body.