Damn inconvenient arm.

When he no longer felt at risk of passing out, he stood and wondered how in the Nether he was to find Nik and Tauria when all he saw was white. An endless white void.

But he was determined to find them, so Tarly pressed forward, hoping something would guide him along the way.

CHAPTER EIGHTY

Nikalias

Days, maybe even weeks, had passed. Nik had no way of keeping track in his endless torment. All he did was follow Tauria every time he caught a glimpse of her, but she would laugh, mocking him, as he desperately tried to reach her before she disappeared for a while.

He was going insane. Looping around an infinite white room. Nik occasionally remembered how he’d gotten here. That this was not where he should be. He thought he’d felt Tauria right before the mirror swallowed him fully, but the moment he’d landed here, she was ripped away, only appearing now in taunting images, so he was almost certain she wasn’t truly here with him. It was a Dresair playing with him.

He didn’t know what it wanted, but every time he saw his mate, he thought she was real and couldn’t stop this endless chase.

“Tauria,” he croaked, sinking to his knees.

Nik ran his hands through his disheveled hair. He hadn’t slept at all, and his fatigue only helped the Dresair play withhis delirium. He’d collapsed a few times, closing his eyes with a need to replenish his energy if he had any hope of making it out of here. Then he would wake to the sound of Tauria’s voice and begin his chase anew.

“Nik!” Tauria called, her song of a voice echoing around with no direction.

His head whipped up. Her voice sounded more sure this time. Didn’t it?

Nik stumbled to his feet, catching a flicker of brown hair and emerald green material drifting around a white wall. The brightness had dried out his eyes and caused a relentless pounding in his head. Nothing cast a shadow, and he’d never craved darkness so badly.

“Wait for me, love,” he rasped, catching himself against the wall and following after her.

Tauria walked backward, hands clasped behind her.Gods, she’s so beautiful.She wore a flowing green dress that wrapped around her torso, accentuating her chest and leaving her brown skin glowing, with no sleeves, only a train of material from her shoulders that started green and ended…blue. A deep sapphire blue that matched the sash around her middle. The colors of both their kingdoms. Her crown was woven gold antlers atop her braided hair.

He wanted to fall to her feet with the powerful, magnificent ruler she was.

This was what awaited them at the end of this war, and he would do anything to see this vision come to pass.

He realized then that was all she was. Much as he wanted to run to her, to chase her into infinity, he knew she wasn’t real.

Nik stopped walking. Tauria’s smile fell slowly when he did.

He had his sword at his hip, and he thought maybe this was his trial. If he managed to finally reach the Dresair, get close enough to kill it and end the torment, maybe it would openthe door home. And it had made it so treacherously difficult by taking on the form of his mate, toying with his mind to be uncertain of whether she was real or not.

“Nik,” she said, holding out a hand for him.

He approached, playing along.

For the first time, he managed to slip his hand into hers. He stared into her hazel eyes with such yearning his mind was already slipping, falling for the illusion. Nik blinked consciously. The finery and crown were a prize not yet won, and that was what made him sure enough…

The Dresair hissed, leaping back to avoid the path of his blade. It contorted Tauria’s beautiful face into anger and malice, backing away from him until she dipped around another corner.

Nik took off after her again. It had changed clothing, mimicking what she’d been wearing the last time he saw her. A green corset tunic and black leather pants. They were preparing for battle. Her hair was in a single long braid, with her emerald jeweled comb fixed into the back. The one that meant so much to both of them when he’d stolen it from her the day they met in Fenstead, holding onto it for centuries.

He grew tired—not in his body but his soul—and slowed his pace again.

Nik had to make it back to her. He had to catch the Dresair and end this cycle.

“You are so weak,” the Dresair taunted in her voice. It was close, but Nik couldn’t bring himself to search. “You knew the threat you were to her, and yet you still claimed her.”

His spine locked.

“You’re the Dresair I met that day…who told me about my prophesy.”