There is no pain here in this kingdom of nothingness. There is no suffering. There is just—nothing.
Sweet, blissful nothing.
I am weightless, floating through a timeless, matter-less void with no evil kings, no disastrous fates, no ultimatums. All that I was so desperate to hold on to—all those names and faces I remember wishing I could take with me into the next life—they’re getting quieter. I try to fight it, try to cling to them, but their edges are fraying.
I know I should be concerned, but I’m not. I’m just here. Wherever that is. Or wherever it’s not.
Something ancient yawns in the distance, glittering with promise. It beckons me with a voice so smooth and inviting, it’s hard to resist. I don’t know what awaits me there, but I’m eager to find out. A sense of calm washes over me as I strain toward it.
But that peace is quickly disrupted. I try to fight it. I try and I fail.
Something yanks me backward on an invisible string, and I begin to fall.
Back to my body. Back to panic. Back to fear. Back to chaos.
Back to the overwhelming gravity of life.
I suck in a gasp, racing to catch up to each breath I missed.
But that first breath after sleep? It doesn’t feel like salvation. It feels like the beginning of the end.
“Open your eyes.”
My blurry vision gives way to a male form hovering over me. I blink up at the mess of caramel hair and wide brown eyes.
Wow. He is gorgeous.
The handsome stranger stares down at me, scanning my face. His mouth begins to move, and I realize he’s speaking out loud.
“Serena.” His voice is so familiar. “Say something.”
Serena…Serena, Serena. Oh! That’s me. I think.
He’s staring at me with thisintensity, his hair disheveled and his clothes bloody.
Why is he bloody?
The fog in my brain makes thought difficult and memory near impossible.
“Serena.”
He reaches for me (Serena), confusion etched deep in his brow, and I recoil, pedaling backward on my hands. Hurt flickers over his face as he tries again and I scramble to my feet on unsteady legs.
“It’s me.” He lifts his palms.
I stare and stare at that face I know fromsomewhere. Then it hits me.
Oh my god.
“Zadyn?” I croak through the lump in my throat.
Before I can get myself to move, anxiety sinks its claws into my back. “No. I’m—I died…this isn’t real. This is wrong…this isn’t?—”
He surges forward and takes hold of my face. I gasp at the sudden movement.
“This is real,” he whispers.
I try to wade through the layer of mist clouding my mind. I remember screams. Tears falling onto my skin. Warm, white light pressing against me. I glance down at the black blood drying on my ivory gown. My hand flies to my chest, finding only a raised, textured line there. A fresh scar.
