Page 29 of This Vicious Dream (Kingdom of Death #1)

Calysian

Madinia is bone-white when she returns, and despite the dark clouds roiling within my mind, I can’t help but go to her, clasping her shoulders.

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Madinia.”

“Later.” Her eyes hold mine pleadingly, and I sigh. When she offers me a crooked smile, I pull her further into the room.

I’ve wandered this world for centuries, and yet my chest still puffs out when her eyes glitter with appreciation.

This woman was raised in a castle, and since she met me, she has spent her nights in tiny, ill-equipped inns, and on sleeping mats on the hard ground. She’s never complained. But I have a need to ensure her comfort tonight.

The bath I ordered for her is still steaming—I had the water refreshed after washing away the dust of our travels while she was getting her fresh air . Madinia wanders to the paneled dressing screen in the corner, peering around it to the tub beyond.

She glances over her shoulder at me with a wicked smirk, and my body heats. Stepping behind the screen, she drops her shirt, purposefully leaving it on the floor next to the screen, in my full view.

Her leather leggings are next, and it takes her a little longer to remove them. I harden as I picture her easing them down those long, smooth legs. My muscles twitch with the urge to stalk behind that screen and bend her over the tub.

She’s toying with me.

But I like the games we play.

She throws her leggings over the screen, and I angle my head, watching hungrily as the candlelight flickers, providing me with a silhouette of her incredible body. She bends, one hand trailing low to check the temperature of the water, and steps into the bath, sinking down with a throaty moan.

I nearly groan in response.

“Need me to wash your back?” My voice is rough, and Madinia lets out a low laugh.

“I think I can manage.”

The air is humid, steam drifting through the room, and I yank at the neckline of my shirt.

The fabric tears, and I curse, stripping it off and dropping it to the floor.

I know exactly what Madinia looks like when she’s relaxing in a tub of warm water. Her eyelids grow heavy, her cheeks flush pink, her expression turns slumberous.

I pace, unable to ignore each of her soft sighs, the sound of water, the memories of our last bath flashing through my mind.

Finally, Madinia stands, and my mouth goes dry as I imagine the water streaming from her body. She steps out of the bath, her body little more than a shadow, but my mind provides all of the missing details.

More rustling as she dries herself. She didn’t take clean clothes with her, so I wait, tense. Will she wrap a towel around her and walk into view, digging through her satchel?

Or will she—

Madinia saunters out from behind the screen, and my mouth drops open.

She’s naked, the warm candlelight flickering lovingly over her skin. I almost trip over my feet, and amusement flashes through her eyes.

She knows what she does to me. She enjoys it.

“You’ve had your fun.” I barely recognize the rough growl that spills from my throat. “Now come here.”

One eyebrow shoots up, and she reaches up a hand, releasing her hair from its clip. Miles of wine-colored hair fall over her shoulders, reaching to her lower back.

I drink her in. “Are you enjoying teasing me?”

She bites her tongue and gives me a wide smile. “Are you enjoying being teased?”

I am.

But only to a point.

Her eyes widen as I lunge toward her, lifting her into my arms. She clutches my shoulders at the sudden movement, a laugh spilling from her lips, and I bask in the sound as I stride to the bed, dropping her onto the soft sheets.

Red lips curve and she stares up at me. “I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. I half expected you to haul me out of the water.”

“Baths relax you,” I mutter, my voice gruff. “I was trying to control myself.”

Those incredible eyes soften, and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip. “You don’t need to control yourself now.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? You’d like for me to lose control.” I lower my head, pressing a gentle kiss to those lush lips. My body is tense, muscles trembling with the need to take her, to make her mine. And yet…

Her eyes narrow. “You have something else in mind?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

She tenses, and I brush my lips against hers. She chases my mouth as I pull away and shake my head. “Do you trust me?”

“No.” The word is belligerent. Sulky. And I can’t help the laugh that spills from me.

I strip off my pants, enjoying the way her eyes darken as her gaze drifts over my body.

“I don’t trust you either. You’re a deceptive, haughty little liar. And yet I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

Her brow furrows. I could spend hours studying Madinia’s face. She often hides her thoughts behind her cool, blank expressions, and yet I know her well enough now to recognize her tells. I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time watching the way her eyes widen minutely when she’s surprised, the way they turn to slits when she’s infuriated. I’ve memorized the arch of her eyebrow, the darkening of her eyes, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s uncomfortable.

Like she does now. “It must be difficult for you,” she murmurs. “Wanting someone you don’t particularly like.” There’s a strange knowledge in her eyes, and I get the sudden sense she’s hiding something from me.

“I never said I didn’t like you.”

She sniffs, attempting to push against my chest. I merely capture her wrists with one of my hands. Her jaw tightens, but she stares over my shoulder.

“You said I have an ice-cold heart.”

And she’s been holding onto that? I can’t help but smile. “You do. It’s the only way you could have survived. But your soul? Your soul is pure fire.”

Her eyes meet mine, and this time when I kiss her, she wraps her legs around my waist, holding me prisoner the only way she can.

She grinds against me, hot and wet and warm. I let out a hiss as all of my blood surges south. “You won’t rush me.”

“You’re not in charge here.”

“Bigger than you, sweetheart. Stronger than you too. You’ll take what I give you.”

I’m prepared for her fire, and I raise my ward just in time to prevent the singe of skin. My laugh catches in my throat as she shifts beneath me, attempting to flip me to my back.

“Cute,” I tell her, and flames dance in her eyes. I scrape my teeth gently against her neck, enjoying her shiver. My lips replace my teeth, and her breath catches as she tilts her head, silently ordering me to continue.

I shift to her mouth instead, moving my hand to her throat as I claim her lips. I can feel her life beneath my hand, her breaths coming in short pants. Her tongue tangles with mine, and I get lost in her, until I’m not sure where she ends and I begin.

I sink into her, feast on her, revel in her. She lets out a broken moan and I come back to myself, slowly lifting my head.

Her eyes are molten blue, her lips puffy and wet. She looks dazed, needy, and most importantly… mine .

I brush my thumb over her nipple and she hisses, arching her back.

“Hmm. You like that?”

She stays stubbornly silent until I switch from my fingers to my mouth. And then she lets out one of those breathless groans that make me tense in response.

“If anyone else ever hears you make that sound, I’ll kill them.” The words are out before I’m aware I’ve spoken, and Madinia freezes.

“Calysian.”

Silence stretches between us. She’s waiting for me to take the words back.

Strangely, I don’t.

Instead, I push inside her, watching her eyes widen, darken, drift shut.

“No,” I murmur. “Look at me.”

Somehow, I find the self-control to wait until those long lashes flutter and her eyes open. And then I thrust once more, watching as her eyes turn glazed.

“You feel so fucking good.” I push deeper, withdraw, angle my hips, and I’m rewarded when her nails sink into my shoulders and she sucks in a shaky breath.

“Don’t stop.”

The words are both command and plea, and I sink into her again and again, losing myself in her body. She writhes beneath me, sweat slicking her skin, her nipples hard against my chest. I take her mouth, swallowing her breaths as she groans out another plea for more.

Her legs begin to tremble and I grit my teeth, focusing on anything but the feel of her inner muscles clamping around me.

She comes with a throaty moan. Our eyes meet, and for a moment it’s as if we’re somewhere else, in another time and place. I thrust once, twice, and then I’m curling my body around hers as I shudder, pleasure lashing through me.

I slip out of her with a hiss, watching my release trickle out of her. When I push it back where it belongs, Madinia shivers, and I’m immediately hard once more.

Flipping her onto her knees, I sink inside her again.

And again.

Madinia

My body aches in places that make me blush as I languidly stretch, reaching for Calysian.

But when I sweep my hand over his side of the bed, I find only cool sheets.

My stomach falls, my eyes pop open and I sit up, scanning the room. Empty. His things? Gone.

The knowledge is a brutal blow, but one I should have seen coming.

He out-maneuvered me.

If not for the fact that such machinations could mean the end of this world, I’d be impressed.

Instead, panic spreads wings in my chest and I roll from the bed, darting around the room to find my clothes.

My aching muscles make themselves known as I dress, and my cheeks flame. The bastard slid inside me over and over last night, until I was limp and sated and exhausted.

Too exhausted to even stir when he slipped from this bed.

Oh, he will pay.

I was going to tell him who I am to him. Not last night—he successfully drove all thought from my mind. But this morning. I was going to tell him…

I reach for my tunic and freeze. The long mirror on the wall reveals more than just the patchwork of scars slicing across my back. And yet it’s not the scars that catch my attention.

It’s the strange black marks positioned along my spine.

Dark as ink, they’ve been etched with unsettling precision—curves and lines interwoven into a pattern that makes no sense and yet feels deliberate…almost sacred. They wind down my spine from the base of my neck, following the grooves of my bones and ending between the dimples of my lower back.

My fingers tremble as I brush them over my skin. My scars feel rough, the raised edges making me flinch as memories of the pain and helplessness flash though me. But…the strange marks are somehow beneath my skin. They feel wrong. And yet…not.

A sick dread coils in my stomach as I lean closer, twisting my head as much as I can. The black marks ripple with my movement, and my heart thrums in my throat.

My hands shake, and the room does one slow spin.

But I have no time to investigate this new crisis. Not if I’m going to catch up to Calysian.

I yank on my tunic, then sweep clothes and weapons into my satchel. Minutes later, I’m striding out the door.

Only to find Hope’s stall empty.

“Where is my horse?”

The stablehand grins at me, his gaze sweeping from my feet to my tousled hair. “Your husband took the mare earlier this morning. He said he was leaving you to sleep.”

“Cease. Speaking.”

Surprisingly, he does. I turn and leave him standing by the open stall door.

Nausea ripples through me. This isn’t the same as abandoning me in our bed. Taking Hope…Calysian truly doesn’t want me to follow.

The symbolism isn’t lost on me. I named my horse Hope, and Calysian snatched her away from me the moment I needed her the most.

He left me.

He. Left. Me.

I blow out a breath. I don’t have time to wallow in this deep, crushing sense of loss. I’ll need to borrow or rent a horse, which will take me time. As Calysian knew it would.

I’m not surprised when Asinia’s pigeon swoops into the stable. I read her note, my hands shaking.

We are ready.

I let the pigeon return without a message. The rest is up to me.

“What’s wrong?”

I jump, yelp, and spin, all at once.

Fliora lets out a giggle. It’s the first time she’s truly seemed like a child, and despite my current situation, I attempt a smile. “You need to learn to make some noise.”

She grins at me. “Eamonn has been teaching me to spy.”

I search for any sign of him. “Is he here?”

“Nope.”

“Then I need you to listen to me.”

Fliora’s grin disappears at my intent tone, and I lean close, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I need you to make your way to the dock.” I press a few coins into her hand. “Get yourself something to eat. You’ll see a small bench next to a tailor’s shop. Sit on that bench and stay there.”

Her lower lip trembles. “Why?”

“I need you to trust me.”

Slowly, she nods. “You trusted me enough to take that tonic. So I’ll trust you too. But Madinia…you should know something. It was Eamonn who found me and encouraged me to follow my aunt. He was the one who told me to steal the tonic.”

I file this information away. It’s not unexpected.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Fliora darts out of the stable, and I make my way toward the front of the inn. Hopefully, the innkeeper will know someone who will let me borrow a horse for a few hours.

Eamonn trots toward me in his dog form. “Calysian took your horse?”

“Yes. I won’t be able to catch him now.”

“Yes you will.” Eamonn backs away, and within a blink, he’s a huge, white stallion.

I stare. “I thought larger forms were more difficult for you to hold.”

“They are. But I can hold it long enough for you to get to Calysian. Now let’s go.” He sidesteps until he’s next to the fence, and I climb onto his back.

“I should have told Calysian who I am to him.”

“You did more for him by merely being with him last night.”

A strange sense of awareness slides through me, and suddenly I can sense Calysian in my mind. My heart leaps into my throat. “What is happening?”

Eamonn turns, making his way toward the road. “You opened yourself to your soulmate last night. There’s a link between you now. You must have seen the symbols on your back.”

Fury burns through me. “You told me to be with him. Did you know this would happen?”

“I watched when you arrived yesterday. I saw the way Calysian looked at you. The way he touched you.”

“That sounds like a yes,” I hiss. “Who gave you the right to play with my life? To manipulate me like this?”

“Would you like to argue about it or find him?”

I grind my teeth. “We will talk about this later.”

Eamonn sighs. “Think of Calysian’s face. Picture him in your mind. Think about the way he stands, the way he moves, the sound of his voice.”

And there he is.

I can see him in my mind’s eye, riding towards the ruins of another temple.

“South,” I choke out as Eamonn trots down the road. “He’s moving south.”

We make it to the dock, and I keep my gaze deliberately averted from the ships looming just beyond my periphery, the ropes twisted around masts, sails hanging slack, patched and stained.

But one ship draws my attention despite my best efforts, and I snap my gaze away as Eamonn immediately breaks into a canter, and then a gallop. I hold tight to his mane, squeezing with my thighs as I relive every moment with Calysian over and over again, searching for some way this could have ended differently.

Memories flash through me—the stark look in his eyes last night in front of the inn. The way his hands shook when he cupped my face so tenderly the last time he sank inside me. The feel of his arms around me, holding me close.

Eamonn takes a right, and the waves crash against the shore as we leave through the southern gates and onto the main road leading south.

I duck my head, leaning low over Eamonn.

“Despite Calysian’s loss of memories, I’ve seen the way his instincts have whispered to him that you are his,” Eamonn says. “The grimoire must have tightened its hold on him—he would never have left you otherwise.”

“We’re going to lose him.” The words are out before I’m aware I’ve said them, and Eamonn tosses his head. His gallop is relentless, the ground rushing beneath us in a blur of roots and mud.

“No, we’re not.” Eamonn’s voice is grim. “If he does manage to take the second grimoire, you know what to do.”

Steal the link to the third grimoire.

“It will never work.”

“It will. Did you never wonder just how you were able to wield Calysian’s power so easily? It’s because it’s your power too. You’re the other half of his soul.”

“But…I couldn’t feel this grimoire.”

“And why do you think that is?” His voice is breathless from his gallop, a sheen of sweat forming across his neck.

“I’m sure you have a theory.” My words are icy and Eamonn lets out a nicker that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

“I think you became frightened .” He says the word as if fear is somehow beneath me, his voice dripping with disdain. “You saw how the grimoire overtook him, and subconsciously rejected any ties to Calysian’s power. By doing that, you rejected Calysian the man.”

“You say that like you’re disappointed,” I snap. “You don’t even like me.”

Eamonn veers to the right, galloping just close enough to a tree for the leaves of a low-hanging branch hit me in the face.

I spit a leaf from my mouth with a low growl. “Seriously?”

“Can you imagine what it was like, Madinia? For me to know who you were to my brother? To know that because I was too late, too slow , he lost you?”

“Yes, I’m sure that experience was really painful for you ,” I mutter, my memory presenting me with the feeling of cold steel sliding into my heart.

And yet I do remember the horror in Eamonn’s eyes. The self-loathing.

“You want to save your precious world?” Eamonn snarls. “Open yourself fully to your soulmate.”

“I thought I did that last night.”

“You cracked open a window. You need to throw open the door.”

“That sounds very…permanent.”

“I wasn’t aware you had so many other men lining up, ready to love and protect you for the rest of your days.”

“You don’t know me at all if you think that’s what I want.”

“ Now who’s lying?”

We’re silent for the remainder of the journey and I focus on holding tight to Eamonn, my muscles aching from the strain. I direct him toward Calysian, and we move from the main road onto a winding trail where our fastest speed is a jolting trot.

Finally, the trees clear, and the temple comes into view. Ancient pillars stand crooked and fractured, worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain. Marble is streaked with moss and creeping ivy, while the stones closest to the entrance have been blackened by fire. The air feels heavy and oppressive, charged with a faint hum that sets my teeth on edge.

Rustling sounds to my right, and I catch sight of Fox tied to a tree at the edge of the clearing. Hope is nowhere to be seen, and I force myself to turn back to the temple.

Shattered statues lie across the ground like corpses, their faces weathered and featureless. Words and symbols have been carved into the temple’s facade—too faint for me to read…even if I could understand the language.

Even if I’d managed to sneak away from Calysian days ago, I wouldn’t have found this grimoire. I’d been so convinced it was hidden in the forest somewhere before Calysian admitted it was in a temple.

Now I know exactly why Calpharos would have left it in such a place.

Calysian stands in the center of the temple, hands on his hips as he ponders the altar, his head angled strangely. Eamonn slows, his hooves striking cracked stone.

“This is it.” His voice is heavy with weariness. This form has cost him. “You know what to do.”

My heart kicks in my chest but I dismount, stumbling toward the temple entrance on unsteady legs.

“Calysian.”

He ignores me, and my body breaks out in a cold sweat. “Calysian, please.”

His gaze remains on the altar. “This was always the plan, Madinia.”

“Your plan was to leave me alone in bed and come here without me?”

I thought I wanted him to look at me, but when he does, dread coils in my stomach. There’s nothing human left in his eyes.

“Last night I dreamed,” he says. “Strange dreams about another life. My life. You were in them.”

My throat tightens, but he shakes his head, already dismissing me as he returns his gaze to the altar. “Soon I will know the truth.” A wave of his hand, and the huge slab of marble laying across the altar goes flying, crashing into the cracked remnants of a pillar.

“Calysian. You don’t want to do this.”

My pleas are useless—just as Eamonn warned they would be. And yet something in my chest wrenches as Calysian ignores me.

The ground shudders beneath our feet, and I drop to my knees. Even Calysian stumbles.

“Creas!” He roars, “show yourself!”

A low, female laugh. Huge cracks appear in the stone floor and I stumble to my feet.

Calysian’s sister. Once again, she’s attempting to prevent him from taking his grimoire.

Eamonn lands on my shoulder, now in the form of a small bird.

“Are you ready?”

I dodge a chunk of marble as it falls from somewhere above my head. “No!”

Calysian reaches down, into the space below the altar. He pulls the grimoire free, and the cover flies open, the pages a blur. Dark power fills the temple, and my knees turn weak.

“Now, Madinia!” Eamonn’s voice is incessant, and I close my eyes. His low voice urges me on. “Reach past this power. Do you feel its link to the third grimoire?”

“Yes.”

“You need to break the link and grasp it for it yourself.”

It’s a wild, audacious risk. But it’s my only chance to stop Calpharos.

“How do I break it?”

“Use your fire.”

I don’t have time to argue. I can sense the link, visible only when I close my eyes and reach for it. My flames may be invisible, but they’re filled with my power. And they leap toward the link with a whoosh, engulfing it in seconds. But it burns slowly. Too slowly.

“More,” Eamonn urges.

I throw more flames at the link, power pouring from me in a dizzying rush. Just as the link is almost completely burned, I reach for it, cupping it in invisible hands, and guiding it to me .

Instantly, I can feel the third grimoire, on another continent far from this place. Large, male hands are wrapped around it, and my gaze drifts up muscular arms, to a brutally handsome face. It’s the face of a warrior.

Dark, green eyes scan my body, and they hold a glint of appreciation when they meet mine. “And, who,” he murmurs across time and space, “are you?”

He can see me?

I gasp, and the link between us snaps closed.

“You did it,” Eamonn breathes.

The second grimoire is already fading in Calpharos’s hands, his eyes completely black as he reunites with this part of his soul.

And still, the ground trembles.

Calpharos’s eyes meet mine, and I stumble back. Because he’s looking out at the world as if it has wronged him on such a deep level, it should burn.

“You,” Calpharos says. “You took from me.” A hint of confusion flickers across his face, replacing some of the wrath. “Woman. My woman.”