Page 87 of Immortal Origins
No!
She ran faster. Faster. Faster than she ever had in her life but instead of carrying her closer, the disciple and Antony only got further away. She pushed her legs until they screamed in protest but she couldn’t reach them.
The disciple smiled triumphantly as he pulled his knife and slit the boy’s throat.
Ambrose tried to wield her magick. Any Magick. She didn’t care which one answered her call, but nothing came as Antony clutched his bleeding throat.
She couldn’t reach him.
She couldn’t reach him!
The disciple’s laughter rang in her ears as he turned and ran deeper into the forest, his robes leaving a bloody trail behind him. She reached her hands towardshim and saw them covered in blood.
She looked down, her white servant gown was soaked as well, covering her head to toe in blood she couldn’t wipe clean.
This wasn’t happening.
This wasn’t happening.
She dropped to her knees as the disciple disappeared in the shadows that reached and danced for her, growing claws and teeth as their shrieks assaulted her mind. The screeches of the Alkijin surrounded her as she screamed, covering her ears, but there was no escape…
* * *
Ambrose woke screaming, heart pounding in her chest as she brought her shaking hands up to her face.
No blood.
But she was covered in sweat.
The salty mixture fell down her face into her mouth, making the taste of her dream last bitterly on her tongue. She sat up in bed and willed her heart rate to calm itself. Akadian lay next to her, exactly where he’d fallen asleep, somehow undisturbed by her sudden outburst.
The daylight had long gone and been replaced by the silver moonlight pouring in from the small window.
She was safe.
It was just a nightmare.
A horrible nightmare.
She’d become accustomed to them almost every night. Often dreaming of the guard she killed, but finding nowhere to escape to. Caught and executed every time. But this nightmare was so much worse. She could still see Antony’s little eyes staring at her, pleading for her to help as she climbed out of bed and realized she was still wearing her leathers. Eager to wash away the sweat and memory from her mind, she made her way toher bathing chamber and started a bath. Hot steam poured from the faucet, the roar of the water a welcome distraction from her thoughts as it filled the copper tub below.
Just a nightmare.
She unclasped the armor plate Magnus had made for her and gently set it on the ground. Then, she ripped the leathers from her body wishing to never see them again—dried blood still caked into them from the horrors of the night before. She told herself she’d find a way to burn them later. Fireproof be damned, she’d find a way to destroy them forever.
She poured some rose oil into the tub and grabbed a bar of soap as she climbed in, welcoming the hot water as it lightly burned her skin. Skin covered in dirt and blood that wasn’t all hers.
Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the water below, destroying all evidence of their existence.
“Bad dream?”
Ambrose snapped her head up. Akadian leaned against the doorway, staring at her softly. She was too tired to feel embarrassed that she was naked before the prince—even if the tub was big enough to hide anything to be embarrassed about.
“That’s an understatement,” she replied pulling her legs into her chest, doing her best to suppress the shivers that wanted to take her. The heat of the water failing to keep them at bay.
“I have them too,” he said, pulling a stool up to the edge of the bath. “May I?” He extended a hand to her.
Ambrose handed him the soap and he lightly grabbed her wrist, running the bar gently over her skin, washing away the memories. All traces of the night before mixing into brown and pink swirls in the water.
