Page 87 of A Fate of Ice and Lies
That was what they did.
With one of Grandma Richter’s bottles of champagne and more than a dozen of Elias’s oranges, freshly squeezed, we drank. And laughed.
I wasn’t sure whether Ryenne sensed it or not, but it was exactly what I’d needed. While I didn’t talk about the dreams and sometimes nightmares I started having after Mom passed away, I always wrote them down. Usually in detail as if I were still reliving them.
It made for a great story that I hoped to self-publish one day in three parts. Maybe more if the dream continued to stretch on. I only wished the scary parts weren’t so frightening. That the smell of burnt corpses didn’t linger in my nostrils. That the feeling of hopelessness didn’t makegetting out of bed so difficult. That the brewing anger my main character felt didn’t set my own soul aflame.Horrifyingly.
I hadn’t asked Elias if he’d started reading my journal yet. In truth, I was too afraid to learn my dreams were more than dreams. Especially because of how terrifyingly horrific last night’s dream had been.
Leanora had been set on destruction. Obliteration. And not just the fae who’d killed off her family line. She’d sought to annihilate humankind too.
Over and over, she made me watch the people I loved die. All because I was a traitor to the massacred mages. Some sudden and painless, like the quick snap of Victoria’s neck. Others grueling, like the way she took her time to kill Ryenne and Donnie. As if she enjoyed their pain and reveled in their screams.
And then there was Elias, who she’d left for last. The torment on his face while watching everyone die before him. It was nothing, though, compared to what she did to him. Peeling the flesh from him. Breaking his bones, one by one. Plunging her dagger into him only to heal the wounds and start anew.
Leanora was death incarnate, and for the first time since my dreams started, I couldn’t write the details of the next chapter.
But I could still hear the way my friends had screamed for mercy. The way she’d drained Elias of his magic and then his soul, so similar to how I’d seen the black smoke take his magic that day the thunderbird had struck him. My soul ached from my own screams that she seemed to savor.
No, I wouldn’t write it. Refused to. Even though I’d change the names and characteristics so none of my friends died inthe fictional world I was writing, I couldn’t bring myself to write it. Not when the memory of the dream was too fresh.
Not until I knew it wasn’t real.
“Tell us,” Ryenne prompted, snapping me out of my thoughts.
From where Ryenne sat on the kitchen countertop, she propped her elbows on her thighs and lifted her brows in question.
In my small kitchenette, I took a sip of my mimosa, careful to watch how much I drank. I wanted to make sure I hydrated well so I wouldn’t be a mess when I saw Elias later that night. In six hours, according to the digital clock on my microwave.
It was strange how the world worked now. How most of the technology still existed, but we could no longer stream movies. How we could charge our phones but heating our homes was becoming increasingly difficult for everyone but me. How the Internet still worked although we’d lost cell service and couldn’t make calls or text anymore.
While the news was nonexistent on the television, reporters still updated us through live videos on Instagram. And at least once a week, Commander Hudson came on every piece of technology we owned. It didn’t matter what we were doing. When the commander wanted our attention, our phones, televisions, and computers automatically went to him and whatever vitriol he pronounced.
I hated him. For what he’d done to Elias. For making himself our dictator and commanding the region leaders to punish humans. While Elias was merciful, other regions weren’t as lucky. Too many times, I’d watched live beatings on social media, a dozen of them resulting in death.
“What was Everly telling us?” I asked, glancing at Everly,who sat beside me and was already two drinks in. “My mind was”—I twirled a finger in the air—“wandering.”
“Always with your head in the clouds,” Ryenne teased the same way Mom once had.
I lifted my middle finger and used it to scratch my nose.
“Besides, we know who you’re daydreaming about,” she singsonged.
My cheeks heated so fiercely I worried my whole body would erupt in flames. “Shut up,” I muttered, hiding behind another drink from my glass.
“I think what you and Elias have is beautiful,” Everly offered.
It did nothing to thwart my embarrassment. Not that I was embarrassed about Elias and me. More that I didn’t like being the center of any conversation, especially when what I felt for Elias was so much more than I expected.
There was attraction, sure, but it went beyond him being good-looking. It was him. Elias being himself. I liked the silly side of him as much as I appreciated his more serious, intense side. It was easy to fall for his compassion and thoughtfulness, but he was also fiercely protective and could be brutal in the name of defense.
It wasn’t just that he made me smile and feel safe but he also made me feel alive. For the first time in maybe forever.
“Back to you.” Ryenne pointed at Everly. “Do you like Donnie?”
“Psh,” I huffed out. “She likes George.”
Everly’s eyes widened while Ryenne’s mouth hung open.
