Page 15 of The Devil's Trials

IT’S NOT REAL.

But when my eyes meet Xander’s pitch-black gaze, I almost forget. The air gets stuck in my lungs, and I choke on a gasp. I swear it’s happening in real time, as if Xander’s experiencing the nightmare with me. Something shifts in his expression, but it’s gone too quickly for me to decipher before the entire scene fades, giving way to endless darkness.

My bedroom materializes as I wake with a gasp, my chest heaving with each breath and my skin coated with sweat despite the shivers wracking my body. I press a trembling hand over my heart where it pounds so loud it drowns everything else out. Slumped against the headboard, my eyes burn with tears, my mind racing as I desperately claw for answers.

What the hell was that?

FIVEXANDER

Everything comes in flashes of violence and pain. I’m powerless—I can’t change the course. I’m forced to endure this fucked-up out-of-body experience where I kill my queen, mymother, again.

My eyes meet Camille’s as the demons left standing sink to their knees before me. The confusion in her eyes and pure terror radiating from her in dark waves steals my breath. I can’t pull air into my lungs as I stand frozen in that moment. It suffocates me. My chest burns, lungs demanding oxygen they’re not getting.

And then everything goes dark.

I shoot upright, blinking quickly as the newly familiar bedroom of the safe house comes into focus around me.

Fucking hell.

It was a dream—a brutally vivid nightmare—but it felt so damnreal, as if Camille was there with me, reliving the single worst moment of my twenty-five years.

Going to see Camille at her apartment last night is a very close second. She didn’t deserve the pain I caused her, ending things so coldly. The sound of her crying on the other side of the door stuck with me the entire drive back to the safe house. But I had no other choice, and what I said about not being good for her is the simple truth. Because even if she could get past what I did to save her, what I’ll become to take my place on the throne, she’ll never be safe in my world.

Unless once I’m king I make it clear that Camille is off limits…No. It wouldn’t work. Demons would deem me weak for assigning importance to a human life, especially over them. They’d target her, use her against me, and I won’t allow that to happen.

With an aggravated sigh, I snatch my phone off the table next to the bed and squint at the backlit screen to see it’s a few minutes before six. Itoss my phone aside and scrub a hand down my face. Exhaustion clings to me like a heavy film, nagging at me to feed. It’s not something I’ll be able to neglect as much in my position now, and the idea of feeding more frequently sparks a twisted sense of excitement in my chest.

That’s new.

Before I can sit with it for any length of time, I get up and shuffle out of the bedroom. Blake meets me in the hall, bare-chested and hair tousled from sleep. He grumbles a quiet, “Morning,” around a yawn as he makes his way past me and to the coffee machine in the kitchen.

I follow him, lured by the promise of caffeine. Once I have a steaming mug cradled in my hands, I lean against the counter and close my eyes, allowing myself a sliver of peace as the coffee warms a path to my stomach.

“You look like shit, mate,” Blake comments, his British accent is thicker when he first rolls out of bed. He’s looking at me when I pry my eyes open and narrow them at him. “In all seriousness,” he adds, “you good?”

Offering a tight-lipped smile, I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “The universe has a delightful sense of humor.”

He cocks a brow. “Sarcasm noted.”

“I woke up from a nightmare this morning.”

Blake chuckles.Prick. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. Do you want to, like, talk about it?”

I take a drink of my coffee. “Not particularly.”

He hesitates before asking, “Was it Lucia? Or Camille?”

So much for not talking about it.

“Both,” I say, raking a hand through my hair and scratching the back of my head. “I relived the last moments of Lucia’s miserable life and woke up after I drove the dagger into her chest.”

Blake nods, his eyes searching my face. “Why do I get the sense there’s more?” He keeps his gaze on me over his mug as he takes a drink of his coffee.

I shake my head, trying to work out a clear way to explain it. “When I saw Camille, it was jarring. Like she was actually there.”

“There…as in, she was in your dream?”

I nod. “It was over before I could tell anything for sure, but I had the distinct sense that she was experiencing it with me.”

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