Page 153 of The Nightmare Bride
I broke into a run, ignoring the illusory warp of physics long enough to reach my chamber and throw myself inside. I crossed the room with desperate strides. At a twitch of the latch, my balcony doors burst inward with such force they cracked against the wallpaper.
Salt-soaked wind poured in. I breathed deep and angled a shoulder into the gale.
Out on my balcony, the world heaved, a tornadic whirl of wind and darkness. To my left, the swamp pulsed like a glowing bruise. To my right, the road snaked toward town and the sea.But the storm eclipsed all that. I craned my head back, then back some more.
Indigo clouds hung in the sky like a gruesome planet on the verge of collision. Hellish lightning crackled within. The storm’s stench singed my nostrils, like someone had blown out a match and shoved it up my nose, still sizzling.
My heart shriveled. A thousand times, I’d wished the prince dead, hoping Zephyrine might somehow hear me. I’d even whispered to my dagger, despite knowing its magic didn’t work that way, but maybe my pleas had accomplished more than I’d realized. Maybe I’d called this behemoth to life without even meaning to.
Goddess, as much as I’d wanted Kyven gone, I hadn’t meant forthisto be the price.
No help for it now, though, so I wrenched my gaze downward. A sleek black carriage hurtled up the road, gravel churning beneath its wheels.
The prince.
My hands curled around the balcony railing as the storm intensified. Its roar burrowed into my brain, coaxing phantom whispers to life.
Amryssa will tire of you soon. She’ll leave you. The only thing you’re good for is walking away from.
I saluted the storm with a middle finger and forced the offending thoughts aside. Gripping my dagger, I whispered to the carriage. “Crash,” I commanded. “Tip over. Just don’t beat the storm.”
Energy prickled against my hand, but fizzled out within moments. The carriage continued onward.
I bit back a curse. The prince was too far away. Even if he hadn’t been, tipping his vehicle probably required more magic than my dagger housed.
My only hope lay with the purple maelstrom swallowing the sky.
Below, the carriage swerved, and my heart lifted. Maybe the horses wouldn’t stop. Maybe they’d stampede against the house’s walls and explode their cargo in a shower of wood and lacerated flesh.
But no. The vehicle skidded to a halt in the circular drive. A hulking coachman leapt down to yank open the doors. Two figures burst out, one diminutive—a woman?—the other medium-sized. The smaller helped the driver unload the luggage, then reached for the horses, but the panicked animals wheeled back the way they’d come, the now-empty vehicle jouncing behind them.
The storm’s whine rose to a scream. From the darkness, a shadow swooped toward me—some mutant hybrid of bat and crow. It cawed harshly before exploding into wisps.
The shadowy tendrils hit my skin and burrowed through. It was an illusion, but I could no longer distinguish nightmare from reality, could only clutch the railing and swallow my horror while darkness writhed beneath my flesh.
Down in the drive, the largest and smallest figures darted into the manor. But the third paused to look up. Despite the fiery wind, a raised cloak hood shrouded his face. Sinister eyes glinted within.
My hands squeezed the rusted railing with such savagery that blood wetted my palms. This was the prince, clearly, but instead of hurrying inside, he just...stood there, as unyielding as a blade poised to fall.
Tingles sheeted through me at the audacity. How? How could he stay so still, anchored to the earth by nothing but his boots? How could he stand unmoving while the wind lashed his cloak into an inky frenzy?
Somewhere distant, Amryssa began to scream. A cry bubbled up my throat, too, but I sealed it behind pursed lips. The prince couldn’t possibly reach safety now, and I wanted to see my triumph. I wanted to watch him fall apart.
But he only raised a hand in—what? Threat? Acknowledgment? Each finger narrowed to a point. Toxic violet light gleamed on wicked claws.
Another mirage, like the burrowing shadows, but this one mirrored the truth. Kyven was a monster. The letter in my armoire drawer proved it.
Pain ripped through my chest, and I glanced down to find my fingernails gouging furrows into my flesh. I forced the offending hand back to the railing. Time to go.
I leaned out. Hot blood seeped into my neckline while my hair thrashed around my face like cracking whips. “Die screaming,” I shouted, then staggered inside and threw myself onto the bed. I fastened my chains with desperate urgency.
And not a moment too soon, because the storm broke over the manor. Double-jointed creatures streamed from the corners, their mouths and eyes in all the wrong places, their limbs too spindly to make sense. They snatched at my clothes while black thoughts billowed through my mind.
You are nothing. You are worthless.
I screamed. I didn’t want to know. I wanted to rake the corrosive truths from my body with curled fingers, and I tried. Pain brightened in my wrists as I thrashed.
Anything to make it stop.
