Page 45 of Gorgeous Nightmare

I watch Ash closely as she sets up the ritual. She starts by laying out bones in a circle with salt, herbs, and a raven skull at the top, pointing north. Its hollow eyes stare back at me like it’s watching.

And the fact that it probably is sends a wave of nausea through my body.

Ash hands me a dead luna moth, and I grab it gently, trying not to damage its frail wings.

“Take this into the circle. You’re going to pin it to the skull, then pour the moon water over it. That’s going to activate it. Once the jar is empty you’re going to pick up that blade,” she glances over to the blade that Tyler was holding when everything went to shit. “And you are going to offer your blood. While you're making your sacrifice, chant this three times. Then voila. You should be in the Dreamworld.”

She hands me a worn piece of paper, and I run my eyes across the dark and swirling letters.

I am the vessel, sealed and whole.

Through every shadow, I keep control.

No force may bind, no will may bend.

I pass untouched until the end.

I look up at her and nod, a single tear sliding down my cheek.

“In case I don’t see you again, I just wanted to say I love you, babes. Thank you for always being here for me.”

“Shut up! You’re gonna make me cry.” She sniffles before pulling me in for a hug. “I love you too, you crazy bitch,” she chuckles as she releases me, grabbing my hand to guide me into the circle.

I step in and stand before the skull, gripping the moth like it’s my lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to the little night butterfly before pressing the pin through its body, fastening it to the skull.

The moon water glistens in the candlelight as I pour it over the delicate wings. I swear I catch them fluttering for just a split second.

Maybe I really am going crazy.

My gaze shifts to the blade. The one that was there at the beginning of this fucked up nightmare. The one I killed Tyler with… or at least it felt like I really did.

Until I actually had to.

Reaching out, my fingers graze the cool metal, wrapping around it methodically.

I press the blade against my palm, burning like it's on fire. My blood spills, dark and hot, onto the offering.

I can feel a rush of pain, or maybe it’s power, curl through my body.

I close my eyes, whispering the chant, the words falling from my lips like a spell I wasborn to say.

The circle hums with energy, pulsing through my veins like a wildfire before everything blurs.

And then it all turns black.

CHAPTER 37

Aisling

Iopen my eyes and I immediately know I'm somewhere else.

The ground breathes beneath me. Trees twist above me in impossible shapes, reaching toward the sky in swirling patterns. The sky is a vibrant swirl of deep violet and black, sprinkled with twinkling stars.

Again. Great fucking interior designer… or I guess… exterior designer? Whatever. Either way it’s fucking breathtaking.

And the air? The air tastes like him.

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