Page 6 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

I neatly arranged my clothes in the drawers and closet before grabbing the next suitcase.

This one held more clothes, my jewellery, and my art supplies. I wasn’t an artist by any means, but when I was thirteen, my psychologist suggested drawing as a way to process the images in my head. Since then, I’d done it almost daily.

After unpacking, I lay down on the bed, which was much harder than what I was used to, and closed my eyes for the first time in thirty hours.

I’d been told that my dreams were connected to my emotions, and because I’d been scared and anxious about this new life, I had feared dreaming again.

But right now, I was too tired to care.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Five steps.

I stood on cold marble, a strong breeze blowing through my chestnut hair. One of the small white bows tying a tiny braid in my hair came loose, carried off by the wind.

I grasped the railing, which was adorned with beautiful white roses. Their vines twisted along the edge of the balcony where I stood.

Even though the ground below was meters away, that didn’t stop me from swinging my foot up and stepping onto the railing.

The wind was strong, but I quickly found my balance and turned my gaze to a nearby tree. It was decorated with white ribbons—bigger than the ones in my hair.

As I moved onto the railing, my white dress snagged on a thorn. But that wouldn’t stop me from doing what I was destined to do.

“Lessy, what are you doing? Get off the railing!”

I looked down at the person who had called my name. The fear in his voice sent a chill down my spine.

“Please!” he pleaded.

My darling Christopher didn’t understand. This was my destiny. I had to do this—to pleasehim.

Without a second glance at the boy I loved, I turned and let myself fall, surrendering to death’s call.

CHAPTER FOUR

DOROTHEE

When I woke up,my head hit something hard, and it took me several seconds to regain consciousness and realise where I was and what had happened.

“Is she alright?” someone asked in a state of panic, and I lifted my head, looking around.

I was lying on the floor of my new room’s balcony. Hands gripped my shoulders, and I looked from the balcony railing to the ground beneath me, still a little dazed. Except it wasn’t the floor I was on—it was a boy.

Hazel eyes met mine, and I felt faint for a second. I was almost sure I had seen him before, but the thought vanished the moment it entered my mind because that was impossible.

The boy who held me as though I were some great treasure had messy strands of jet-black hair dangling into his eyes. His features were sharply defined, and it was difficult to tell if he was naturally as pale as a ghost or if his dark hair simply made him look that way.

He seemed a little dazed himself. His lips parted briefly before his expression hardened.

What had just happened?

“Could you get up?” I saw his lips move before the dark tone of his voice reached me. Confusion seemed to steal all the air from my lungs at the sound of his voice. Not only did his appearance feel oddly familiar, but this voice…

“What?” I asked, still caught in my haze, before reality caught up to me.Oh gosh. I was lying on top of this stranger as though he were the most comfortable thing in the world. “Yes, of course, I’m so sorry,” I apologised, scrambled to get off him and stand up.

It’s an understatement to say I was embarrassed. As blood rushed to my cheeks, I felt eyes boring into my back. When I turned, I realised there were more people in my room.

But all I could think about was the balcony—and the girl. I was that girl, but I wasn’t me. I had brown hair in my dream, and my name wasn’t…

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