Page 63 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

We know next to nothing about them. Where they came from, what they want. How they choose their victims. How to stop them. Sometimes they kill without leaving a mark, and other times they rip out their prey’s throat and consume blood. The way they can paralyze living creatures with terror remains especially mysterious, and we have no clue what, if any, type of residual impact that sort of assault might cause.

Leesa’s experiencing incapacitating headaches from a single attack. For all we know, multiple enthrallments could lead to cumulative or stronger effects.

He shifts his weight in obvious discomfort and fixes his attention on an empty patch of wall. “It was like plunging through an abyss of fear. Everywhere I looked, it was just darkness, clawing at me, whispering dread into every part of me. It wasn’t just outside, Lark. It felt like it was inside my head. My body was falling, and at the same time, so was my mind. I couldn’t move or do anything.”

My stomach plummets as an echo of my own dream from days ago surfaces, where darkness shrouded me inside and out. Only, my darkness provided a comforting sanctuary while his was a tomb.

I stroke his cheek. “That sounds terrifying.”

Not seeing any point in walking around the bed, I instead climb over him. Well, more like on top of him. Then I straddle him with my whole body before sliding over.

He laughs at my antics, his warm eyes following me as I glide over him. He lifts the blankets, and I scoot around to curl up beside him. He shifts around with me so we stay face-to-face as I wiggle under the blankets on the soft mattress.

“It was. Abject terror and a darkness with no hint of light or warmth.” Vulnerability flickers in his eyes before he blinks it away. His fingers trace up and down my arm. “And now this damn headache won’t quit.”

“Come here.” I open my arms to him.

Without hesitation, he settles against me.

I draw him close, fitting his body to mine as if we’re two reunited puzzle pieces and tugging his head against my chest. I stroke his neck, pausing with my fingertips over his pulse until I feel the reassuring thrum. A shudder quakes my body.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” As the day’s events sink in, emotion clogs my throat, and my nose begins to sting. “I was yelling at you to move, but you couldn’t. You were trapped, and all I could imagine was you crashing to the ground with your throat ripped out.”

I sniffle, and Sterling squeezes me. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m okay. I promise. I’ll never leave you.” He scoots up, burying his face in my neck.

As his exhalations warm my skin, I realize again that the court games and betrothals—pretend or real—don’t matter.

Spending the nights wrapped in each other’s arms does.

In mere moments, his breathing slows as he slips into sleep’s embrace.

I follow soon after, the steady rhythm of his heart lulling me into dreams where darkness is not something to be feared, but rather a place where hope kindles, waiting for a spark.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been out when something jolts me awake.

My heart drums against my ribs as my eyes fly open. I remain still, trying to assess what disturbed me.

There’s nothing.

No sound, no movement. Nothing to tell me what yanked me from sleep, overflowing with adrenaline.

Then the empty spot beside me registers.

Sterling’s not in bed.

I blink away the shadows clinging to my vision and quickly find the strange presence that interrupted my slumber.

He’s standing beside the bed, moonlight streaming around him. His arms hang loose at his sides, his eerily empty gaze fixed on me. Light shines off his eyes as if they’re made of glass. He shakes his head three times.

Pauses.

Then shakes it again.

His lips move, but no sounds come out.

Is he sleepwalking? Dreaming?

“Hey.” I struggle to shove away the uncertainty that keeps me immobile. “What’s going on?” Trembling slightly, I reach out to touch his arm.

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