Page 20 of A Bond in Flames

The memory of that night rushed forward unbidden.

A voice whispered through my head, then another.

I felt awake, but I wasn’t.

“There she is, brother. I found her for you.”

The owner of that voice was nowhere to be seen. I was in a forest, dark and dense. I spun around, searching the trees. “Who’s there?”

Electricity clawed over my skin, like tiny talons clinging to my flesh. Dread sliced down my spine, and the veins on either side of my throat felt as if they were struggling to pump blood fast enough. I felt dizzy and out of breath.

Shadows moved among the trees, and I tried to step back, but I couldn’t move. My feet were locked in place, thick roots twisted around them, holding me fast. I shook my head furiously. Why wasn’t I waking up? I needed to wake up.

The shadows swirled more furiously, twisting closer.

No, not shadows.

Oh goddess, it was a massive black robe, the hood up, concealing the being underneath. It moved as if it was alive. It came closer, and I fought harder, but there was no escape.

“Do not fight.” A voice drenched in sorrow and agony and rumbling with earth-shattering rage rolled over me.

I froze, terror locking every muscle in my body.

Death.

Somehow, I knew who he was.

He stopped in front of me, bright blue eyes piercing me from beneath his hood. “You belong to me,” he said in that horrifying voice. “On your eighteenth birthday, I will come for you, consort.”

I stared at him in terror.

“You will belong to me, serve me… love me.”

I wanted to scream, to cover my ears and curl up on the ground. The dread and despair that filled me made me want to die. If I had a knife, I would’ve slit my own throat then and there. I’d never felt this way, this hopeless, this depth of emptiness. Oh goddess, it hurt.

I tried to shake my head, to say no, but my body was locked solid, utterly immobile. I felt a hot tear streak down my ice-cold cheek while my mind screamed, the sound trapped inside me, unable to leave my mouth.

His arm lifted, a bony hand about to cup my face—

I jolted awake.

Jasmine stood over me, her face wet with tears. “You were screaming. I thought you were dying,” she sobbed.

I pulled my baby sister into my arms as Hemlock scurried up my arm and curled around my neck, hissing in my ear, letting me know he was scared as well, looking for the danger. “I’m okay.” I shoved back the covers. “Go back to bed, Jazzy. I just had a bad dream, that’s all,” I lied.

She nodded, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “Something’s wrong.”

I wrapped my arm around her narrow shoulders. “I promise I’m okay. I just… I remembered I had a paper due tomorrow. I dreamed Mr. Anders was chasing me with a knife, demanding I give it to him. Go back to bed. I’m gonna make some coffee and get it done.” I couldn’t go back to sleep, not when Death might be there waiting for me.

She nodded and yawned. “Don’t ever scream like that again,” she muttered and headed to the door.

“I won’t,” I said, which was useless since I had no idea I’d been doing it.

Jasmine wandered out, and I snatched up my phone and searched the wordconsort.

A wife, husband, or companion.

I shot to my feet. No. Never. I would never be his.

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