Page 23 of This Vicious Dream (Kingdom of Death #1)

Calysian

I nudge my horse, urging it to go faster, toward the call of the grimoire. The forest has become a blur, the wind snapping at me as we gallop east toward my memories. Toward my power.

“I always suspected you would be a power-hungry bastard. I ignored my instincts, but I won’t do that again.”

For some strange reason, the mortal’s words continue to echo in my head.

I grind my teeth, pushing them away and urging my horse on.

I should not be in this world.

I should not have spent centuries wandering blindly.

I should not be almost powerless.

The strange interest I had for the mortal is now gone, and she will stay behind while I—

Stay behind. With the other mortal. The male.

I clench my teeth until my jaw aches. Irrelevant. Mortal lives mean nothing to me. The woman is little more than a speck of dust to one such as I.

Agony seizes me.

It erupts through my head, stealing my breath, my thoughts.

I’m forced to bury my hands in my horse’s mane as I hunch, muscles seizing, my vision blurring at the edges.

I suck in a deep breath and the world seems to snap into place, my thoughts sharpening once more as the pain finally ends.

Easing Fox to a stop, I slowly lift my head.

I left her.

I left her alone .

Madinia, who has been abandoned by so many people.

Worse, I left her with Haldrik.

Haldrik, who has been a wedge between us since the moment we met.

Realization slams into me with startling clarity.

Haldrik.

Almost every time I attempted to talk to Madinia alone, he interrupted. Each time I attempted to cajole her into my bed, Haldrik reminded her of who and what I was. Each time we attempted to bridge the widening gap between us, he introduced some new distraction, some new calamity.

My mind is sharp. Clear.

Hot, lethal rage burns through me, until I can feel it in my bones, can taste it on my tongue.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur to Fox. “But we have to go back.”

I’ve pushed him hard. Too hard. But he gives me a gallop, legs stretching as he eats at the distance. I push my power into him, giving him everything I have left, well aware that I’ll be weakened when I find Madinia.

Dread burrows into my stomach. Madinia Farrow is a survivor. But she likes Haldrik. And she won’t see this betrayal coming.

My rage is endless, but it’s the helplessness that burns hotter than even Madinia’s fire.

Stay alive. Just stay alive.

It takes hours to retrace my path. Twice, I have to stop to let Fox rest, impatience burning through me. And then I hear it.

Hooves pounding against the ground. Multiple horses.

I mount, turning Fox toward the road.

Even in the dim light of the evening, it’s Madinia who I see first. Her hair catches the last faltering rays of the sun, and my heart stops.

Mottled bruises cover one side of her face, and she’s splattered with blood. Her mouth is set with grim determination, and her eyes are narrowed, filled with wrath.

She slows, as do the three others she rides with. But I only have eyes for her.

“Calysian?” Madinia’s voice is quiet, more hesitant than I’ve ever heard.

“Who hurt you?”

Relief flashes across her face and she dismounts from her horse. She stumbles, and I launch myself from Fox, catching her.

She freezes. “I’ve never seen you move that fast.”

My hand trembles as I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, taking in the blue and purple bruises. “It was Haldrik, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “He’s dead.”

The others dismount, and I pull her close, breathing in her scent. “I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry.” The words stick in my throat.

“It’s not your fault. We’ll talk about it later.” She pulls away. “Calysian, this is Asinia, Demos, and Rythos.” Her eyes shine in a way I’ve never seen before. “They’ve been looking for me.”

I nod at them, ignoring the suspicious looks aimed my way.

Madinia glances at Fox. “He needs to rest.”

Remorse flashes through me as I walk to him, taking in his lowered head and heaving sides. “I’m sorry, old friend.” It will be at least two days before I can risk mounting him again.

Madinia approaches, stroking his nose, and Fox nuzzles her hand. “Let’s make camp. And you can tell me about Haldrik.”

Demos, Rythos, and Asinia have brought plenty of supplies. Within an hour, we’re seated around a fire, and flames are flickering across Madinia’s bruised face as she tells me about Haldrik’s betrayal. She curls her arms around herself, and I want nothing more than to turn back time and kill him for her.

Eventually, Madinia tells the others about her capture and the three years she spent in Kyldare’s tower. She keeps her voice light, glossing over the worst of the horror, but I catch the sorrow in Asinia’s eyes, the way Demos’s hand flexes on his knee.

“He’s dead,” Rythos vows, and I meet his eyes.

“That task belongs to me.”

“No,” Madinia says cooly. “It belongs to me .”

The others are quiet, but Asinia begins talking about life in the hybrid kingdom, and eventually, Rythos teases Madinia about their time spent imprisoned together during the war.

As much as I would like to listen, to learn all I can about Madinia’s past, there’s something else I need to do.

I caught sight of Eamonn earlier, following Madinia in his leopard form. With a nod at the others, I get to my feet, heading in his direction.

I find him lounging on a flat rock near the stream, his tail flicking back and forth.

“You returned,” I murmur.

He gets to his feet, stretching his large form. His eyes turn to the forest and I wince.

“Wait.”

Slowly, Eamonn turns his head, his yellow eyes cold. I did damage with my words. Damage I somehow need to fix.

“Thank you,” I say. “For finding Madinia’s friends.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know.”

He turns again, and I clench my fists. “I’m sorry. I was…enraged when we spoke last time. I understand—that you couldn’t tell me. I know what it’s like to be forced to act in ways you would never choose to.”

Silence stretches between us. Finally, he inclines his head. “I forgive you.”

Relief surges though me as he disappears into the forest. Watching Madinia with her friends has reinforced my own lack. Eamonn was right. He was the only one to consistently be there for me since I returned to this continent. Truthfully, he’s the only one I have trusted since the moment I opened my eyes in that forest all those centuries ago.

At least until I met Madinia.

Madinia

I wake up wrapped in Calysian’s arms. His hands are gentle as he plays with my hair, his eyes hard as he stares into the distance.

I attempt to move, and Calysian tightens his grip, his eyes meeting mine. “This is becoming familiar.” He grins crookedly, and that grin is so normal, so him , that something in my heart twists.

We shared his sleeping mat last night, and at some point, I drifted from the edge of the mat. Now, I’m sprawled over Calysian’s hard chest.

I’m not entirely sure that he’s the one to blame.

I lift my head. “Where is everyone?”

Calysian shrugs. “They left us to sleep.” His tone is disinterested, his eyes focused on my mouth.

I should get up. But I’m still so tired. He gently strokes my bruised cheek. “That looks painful.”

“I’m fine.”

Calysian nods, but a muscle ticks in his jaw. “I should have realized Haldrik was a traitor.”

With a sigh, I lay my head back on Calysian’s chest, listening to the comforting thud of his heart. “ I should have. I knew him.” Even now, it’s difficult to reconcile the man who tried to kill me with the same man who sat with me those few nights in the galley. He’d been a silent support while I trembled from the remnants of my nightmares. “You were trying to fight the pull from that stone. What is it, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I remember nothing of any other worlds.” He hesitates, and then firms his jaw. “I know you left something out last night. What did Haldrik do to you?”

I tense, and he sweeps his hand down my back soothingly.

When I don’t speak, he cups my chin, lifting my head.

I wriggle even closer to his warmth. “He was half fae. I’d always wondered what his power was, but he was so…ordinary. I guess I began to assume he didn’t get any power. I’m sure Daharak thought the same. Now I wonder if he ever used that power on her.”

“I wish you’d told me he was half fae.”

I sigh. “Honestly, I’d forgotten until we were in that clearing. Haldrik worked hard to appear as normal and unthreatening as possible.”

Calysian tenses at the reminder, and I shrug, letting my eyes drift closed again.

“You haven’t told me.”

I feel my lower lip stick out and valiantly pull it back where it belongs. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.” My tone is sullen, but Calysian merely waits me out.

“I thought his power was doubt ,” I say finally, opening my eyes. “But I’m not sure if that’s exactly what it was. It was like my thoughts weren’t my own any more. All I could think was that I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t lovable. I knew, in my bones that I was a bad person, that I deserved to be alone, and that the world would be better if I was gone.”

My eyes sting, and Calysian pulls me up his body, until his face is inches from mine. “You know that’s not true.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure if he used his power on you. He had that stupid stone, after all, so he probably didn’t need to.”

“I’m sorry. For leaving you.”

I attempt a smile. “You didn’t have a choice. Besides, I can look after myself.”

“You certainly proved that.”

“And then Asinia and Demos and Rythos arrived.”

He gives me a slow nod, but his eyes are cool. I can’t help but reach down and run my nails across his scalp. His hair is so dark it seems to swallow the light. And yet it’s so thick, the texture silky smooth. “What’s wrong?”

Calysian arches his head like a cat, chasing my fingers. “I don’t like how he looks at you.”

I blink at him. “Who?”

His eyes narrow, as if he thinks I’m being intentionally dense. “Rythos.”

“Rythos?” My voice is incredulous, and Calysian scowls.

“You have a history with him.”

“We were briefly imprisoned together. Our history mostly consists of bickering and ignoring each other with the occasional moment of cooperation.”

Calysian’s scowl deepens, and my mouth twitches.

Yes, that sounds not unlike our relationship at times. But it’s different. With Calysian, our arguments are heated, often dripping with subtext, and usually leading to fantasies about strangling him even as I press my lips to his.

“Rythos is a friend,” I say carefully, and Calysian sneers at me. His expression is sullen, but his eyes flicker with what looks almost like…bewilderment.

My heart twists. Jealousy is clearly a new emotion for him, and one he’s obviously finding difficult to deal with. Something thrills within me at the knowledge that Calysian has no real experience wrestling with this kind of possessive need. Until now.

“You don’t need to worry about Rythos,” I murmur.

When Calysian continues to scowl, I run my finger across his forehead, attempting to stroke away his dark expression. He catches my hand in his, his eyes harden. “Tell me you don’t want him.”

My heart thuds. “I don’t want him.”

“Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.”

Our mouths meet, and he rolls until I’m on my back, his huge body caging mine as he seems to breathe me in. I’m aware of his strength and the frustration coiled within him at this moment. And yet all I can think about is how good his body feels against mine, and how solid and real he feels as I arch my hips, grinding against him.

“The others…” my words are muffled against his lips and he lifts his head with a frown, listening.

“They’re seeing to the horses. Now tell me you want me again.”

This man always wants so much of me. “Do you truly think this will soothe your jealousy?”

He buries his hand in my hair, holding me still for him. “It will help.”

I have to fight the urge to give him what he wants. And all I want is to curl up against him and hear him say everything will be fine.

But he would be lying.

Because nothing will be fine.

In a few days, I might need to kill him.

I shove at his chest. “What exactly do you think will happen once you become a god, Calysian?”

“I am a god.”

“You know what I mean. Say you don’t destroy my world. What will happen once you have your precious grimoires?”

Calysian’s gaze turns flat, and I shove again. He merely moves his hand from my hair, neatly capturing my wrists.

“You’ll go on living,” I snap. “Forever. And I won’t pine for you. I refuse. I’ll find someone, and I’ll live a normal, mortal life.” It will be a longer life than most—my hybrid blood is a gift that I can finally appreciate now that I’m free from that tower. But my life won’t be endless.

I wouldn’t want it to be.

There are only two possible outcomes if we continue this way: Calysian gets his grimoires and manages to temper his wrath, keeping our world safe even as he finds his vengeance. Or Calysian gets his grimoires and becomes a monster, and I’m forced to kill him.

Neither of these outcomes comes with a long, happy life for us.

I push against him with my hips and shoulder, until he releases my wrists and rolls off me, shoving one hand through his hair.

“What do you want from me, Madinia?”

I shake my head, wrapping a blanket around myself. “It doesn’t matter. It’s clear you’ll never be able to give it to me.”

His expression darkens as he gets to his feet. I leave him in the clearing, my chest tight, hands trembling as I dress.

When I return, the others are gathered around the fire. Asinia’s eyes search my face and I shake my head.

Demos is speaking quietly with Calysian. “When do you think your stallion will be able to travel?”

“Tomorrow, perhaps.”

Despite the bitterness flooding me, I can’t help but smile. I know Calysian wants to be traveling, wants to make his way towards the second grimoire.

But he won’t risk Fox.

That, more than anything gives me hope. Maybe, if he does manage to get the last two grimoires, he’ll be able to remain just mortal enough to retain some compassion. Some kindness.

Demos throws another log into the fire before getting to his feet to pace. “What do you know about Vicana?”

The words are simple, but his tone is filled with carefully banked fury. This is a man who spent years in Regner’s dungeon. A man who watched his friends and family die beneath the tyrannical rule of a power-hungry despot.

He won’t allow such a thing to happen again.

“She has been looking for the grimoires for years. She learned that the first grimoire would be brought to this continent—and that I had it—and she’s done everything she can to get her hands on it. Vicana has been stealing territory from Telanthris, and I have no doubt if she was to find a grimoire, she would create just as much pain and death and suffering as Regner—perhaps more.”

“So we have to prevent that from happening,” Rythos says.

“Yes,” Demos nods. “And we need to make such an example of her that any who think to follow in her footsteps will think again.”

My mind provides me with memories of that last battle—the screams, the stench, the suffering .

Calysian moves to my side, wrapping his arm around me. It’s a possessive, proprietary move, and he ignores the dark look I send his way.

Hope feels foreign, and yet the fact that I’m currently talking to Demos, Asinia, and Rythos proves that I can maybe afford to let myself feel it more often.

My eyes meet Asinia’s, and she jerks her head. I shrug off Calysian’s arm and he gives me an indulgent look, leaning close to murmur in my ear. “Enjoy your woman talk with your friend. Be sure to tell her just how much I satisfy you in bed.”

I know he’s trying to pull me from the memories that are clawing at me even now. “I’ll be sure to tell her the only thing god-like about you is your ego,” I hiss, and he smirks at me.

I follow Asinia toward the river, both of us quiet until we reach the shore. The water crashes against the rocks, thundering in my ears.

“I’m so glad we found you,” she murmurs, sitting on a large, flat rock. Idly, she reaches for a twig, twirling it between her fingers. “Madinia…Demos wants us to travel with you to the next grimoire.”

My stomach churns. “Because he thinks Calysian will need to die, and he doesn’t think I can kill him.”

Asinia winces, dropping her gaze to the twig and snapping it in two. “Do you really think you’d be able to be objective?”

I open my mouth to argue, but there’s nothing I can say. “I didn’t expect this.”

She gives me a look filled with so much sympathy, I have to glance away. “None of us ever do. Prisca certainly wasn’t expecting Lorian, and you know how I felt about Demos.”

My lips twitch. I’ve never truly connected with Demos, and I know he’s never fully trusted me. And yet he still left his kingdom when I disappeared. He still joined the search.

A flap of wings, and I glance up, expecting to see Eamonn. Instead, a pigeon lands on Asinia’s shoulder, and she gives the bird a stroke, gently plucking the note tied to its leg.

I’m immediately filled with unwelcome memories of a hundred pigeons sent back and forth during the war.

“We already sent word to Prisca that you’re alive. Now we’ll be able to keep in touch,” Asinia says. “Say hello.”

With a sigh, I reach out and stroke the pigeon’s tiny head.

“Thank you,” I murmur when she’s finished scrawling her reply. “For finding me.”

Asinia gives me an impatient look. “Do you know what your problem is?”

I heave a sigh, and her eyes narrow. “You grew up in that castle where you saw the worst in people. And still, despite all your attempts, you remained mostly good. You saved our lives time and time again, and yet you believed we wouldn’t do the same for you. That hurts, Madinia. And it would kill something in Prisca if she ever learned of it.”

“Three years, Asinia. Three years of Kyldare assuring me that I was completely alone. That no one was coming.” And still, I can see her point. I sigh, glancing at the pigeon. “Don’t tell Prisca.”

“I won’t. If you promise me something. When all this is done, you visit. And you stay awhile.”

I close my eyes. When all of this is done, Calysian will be gone, and Kyldare and Vicana will be dead. What will I have left after that?

“Fine.”

“Demos and I disagree,” she mutters, throwing the broken remnants of her twig into the river and sending the pigeon away with her reply. When her eyes meet mine, they’re dark and sad. “I believe you can kill Calysian if you don’t make it to the grimoire before he does. Out of all of us, you’re the best at doing the hard things. The things that need to be done. Oh, you suffer for it. And this would kill the little remaining softness you have. But you could do it.”

My eyes burn, and I sit down next to Asinia, staring blindly at the water.

She shifts closer, taking my hand. “You’re going to try to convince him not to take the grimoire. To choose you instead.”

“And I’m going to fail.” The certainty is heavy in my gut, the knowledge inescapable. “He’s spent centuries wandering this world, Asinia, with no knowledge or memories of his past. How could he give up his chance to become whole?”

“There’s another option.”

I stare at her, my mind racing. “What do you—” It hits me. “Rythos.”

“You’ve seen his power. You know what he can do.”

Yes, I’ve seen it. And I’ve seen Rythos trembling and vomiting in the aftermath.

His power is terrible and frightening, and the thought of him using it on Calysian makes my palms burn.

Asinia yelps, ripping her hand from mine.

My chest wrenches and I snatch it back, searching for a burn. “Are you hurt?”

“No. The heat just startled me.” She meets my eyes. “Rythos could be our only chance.”

“I can’t do it, Asinia. I can’t.”

“So we’ll do it. Me and Demos and Rythos. It’s just a test. To see if his power can even work on Calysian.”

“And if it can?”

“Then we’ll know that if all else fails and it looks like this world will fall, we can leash the dark god until we have a better plan.”

The thought of Calysian being leashed makes bile burn up the back of my throat, and I turn my head, avoiding Asinia’s gaze once more. I have a feeling she sees far too much.

And yet, what’s the alternative? My own plans hinge around either convincing Calysian not to take the grimoire, or getting to it first and hiding it from both him and Vicana.

“Fine,” I croak. “But tell Rythos he has one chance. I won’t have him working on Calysian the way Haldrik did with that fucking stone.”

Asinia sighs. “Of course you couldn’t fall in love with an ordinary man. You couldn’t choose a fae or a hybrid, or a prince. No, you had to go and fall in love with a god .”

I bare my teeth. “I’m not in love with him. We’ve enjoyed each other’s bodies. That’s all.”

She gives me a pitying look. “If you say so.”