Page 74 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
Nightmares aren’t my area of expertise. They belong to the Sandman. Why he has chosen to live aboveground in a serpent’s body instead of floating from dream to dream is beyond me. That asshole always fucking flaunts his advantage. Not that I would want the power of dreams. Too much darkness in the human mind. It will suck you under if you’re not careful. Only when I have great need do I peer inside.
The de-boning is complete, the spirit locked beneath the mountain where it will never cause harm in my realm again. I toss the skull, catching it a few times like a ball before shattering it beneath my boot. The violence soothed the part of me that’sbeen frustrated for days. Now that it’s quiet, my thoughts swing back to Lenore.
I visit her mother’s garden again. “Any chance the wise Queen Elowynne has some advice for me?”
She won’t respond. She can’t. It doesn’t stop me from initiating our one-way conversations. Speaking with her is the closest I can get to Lenore until I return to the mortal world. I will never be able to fulfill her request. My specialty is death. Still, I’ve been holding out the smallest bit of hope that there was some way.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Queen.”
Elowynne wanders off, admiring the silver flowers that border her garden. A tall figure over her shoulder catches my eye. He’s strikingly familiar. My blood chills when I place him.
The King of Roseheart.
Lenore’s father is in the Underworld.
What was his cause of death? Suspicion whispers over my shoulder. Losing Lenore’s mother could have been an act of fate. The death of both parents so close together sets my thoughts spinning. Could someone be taking out the Roseheart line?
Lenore. I’ve left her alone to grieve not one, but now two deaths. I must go to her. If there is something afoot, she’ll need to be watched and kept safe. Both the king and queen glance my way. It’s as if they’re silently communicating with me. “Protect our daughter.”
“I will.”
Chapter 23
Lenore
It feels like I’ve been to hell and back. Maybe I have. Images of a dark castle and a black glass mountain flicker in my memories, not clear enough to be sure, but too present to ignore. Was that the Underworld? Did I die? Again. Silly question. Of course I did. The very real memory of my heart ceasing to beat is one I wish I could forget. At least now I know for certain I can bring myself back.
There was a moment last summer when I thought I’d done the same. It was late July during an unexpected thunderstorm. I’d been caught far out in the woods, visiting my furry friends. The rain had been pouring so hard I couldn’t see farther than the hand held in front of my face. Mistaking a gnarled birch tree for the large oak that guides my pathway home, I veered in the wrong direction.
The drop-off came up beneath me so sharp and fast that I was already hitting the bottom before I could comprehend the fall. The snap that cracked through my ears is a sound I’ll always remember. My spine? My neck? I lay limp, rain filling my throat, unable to move as darkness closed in around me.
The next thing I remember, I was gasping, rolling to my side, and coughing up a lungful of rainwater. At the time, I assumed I’d merely blacked out from the fall. Visions of stars—so bright it hurt to stare at them—surrounded by the blackest night skies, lay woven through my thoughts. Another glimpse of Harrow’s realm?
Now, I can see that terrible fall for what it really was: death.
Which makes this severe case of food poisoning my third experience rising from the grave. I hope there isn’t a limit on self-resurrections. What if there’s a cap? Like those wives’ tales about cats—they get nine lives. If it’s a similar situation for me, I’ve already used up a third of my freebies.
The aching in my muscles lessens as I make the trek back to the castle. I’m finally able to loosen my grip on Miriam. The sweet doe has been my crutch since I awoke. Zinnia sticks tightly by my other side, but the little fawn is too short to be of any physical help. Emotional support is just as valuable—and looks extra cute in the form of a tiny deer.
There’s a steady mist gliding through the forest, leaving the trees lush and the forest floor damp. I’m going to look worse for wear by the time I make it to the castle. Even after my attempts to scrub it clean with fresh moss, the black, bloody vomit stains are still prominent down the front of my dirty grey dress.
What will they say when they see me? I can’t bear to imagine what Cassius will think.
Cassius. By the gods?—
With the distraction of my brutally painful death, I forgot about my sweet prince.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I weigh my options. I could return to the cabin and wait. I’m feeling perfectly fine now, and Cassiusdidsay he was going to find help. Surely he would have crossed my path by now if he were coming back this same way.
The sky is dreary, the sun peeking out from behind billowy grey clouds. It looks to be close to high noon. “Was I out all night?” Miriam turns her soft brown snout up to me, shaking it slightly. “Longer?”
A gentle nod of confirmation. The idea of lying, vulnerable in the woods for so long, awakens anxiety in my stomach. “I was out for two days and no one found me?”
Miriam gives me a huff, shaking her head once more. “Three days?” She stomps her hooves. “Four?” Another gentle nod.
I was out for four days. How is it no one found me? Thank goodness for my animals. When I awoke, I found them surrounding me. My little protectors. I never expect it, but I do appreciate the way they show their gratitude for the lives I was able to restore to them.
If it really has been four days, then I doubt Cassius is still waiting at the cottage. I’d better get back to the castle. My father will be worried sick, and my mother…
