Anger and disbelief burned bright behind my temples. “Is it?”
“Tell me, what do you think it is? What do you think youknow?” Mithras grabbed my wrist, forcing me forward. His hand was upon my forehead before I could duck out of the way. “You are of no significance, dreamer. Go back to the life from which you came.”
And then, like glass, the dream shattered.
A gentle wind lapped against my cheek, bringing with it the deep, lingering scent of a forest at midnight. It swept along the curves of the pillows under my head, stirring up notes of juniper and rain. I sighed in contentment, happily stuck in the in-between of wakefulness and sleep. It wasn’t often that Elliot allowed an open window while we slept—something about his fear of birds—but he must have decided that the fresh air was worth the risk.
Mother must be burning a fresh candle. Or mixing some new curative, perhaps.
I breathed deeper, trying to decide what the scent reminded me of. The Visstill? No, it was too complex, too dusty. It smoldered with something like incense, something similar to old wood, and twisted itself around a mist-covered field brimming with wild, beautiful things. It was divine.
Elliot curled up next to me, his breathing even and slow. I smiled to myself as I listened to him breathe, reminiscing about the days when he’d pile all his blankets and stuffed animals onto my bed so that he’d be protected from all sorts of things: winter winds that leaked into the creaking walls of our attic room, loneliness, or even the watchful eyes ofa monster in the shadows. He was braver than he realized, my brother. Though he never quite understood why.
I reached out to tousle his hair, finding instead the stiff, cold skin of his neck.
“You’re freezing,” I said, tossing him one of the blankets that towered over me. I adjusted my reach, curling a hand in his hair. It felt softer than usual—not tangled and coarse. “Mother finally got you to brush your hair, huh?”
Elliot didn’t answer, so I cracked open an eye.
And nearly jumped out of my skin.
Sleeping next to me, nestled deep in an extravagant pile of pillows, was the Shadow Bringer. Black armor clung to his half-blanketed body, darker than ink and lustrous with newness and quality. Not a single piece was out of place; gone was any trace of the tattered, injury-soaked material of his earthly attire. And he was back to his true form: mouth irritatingly tempting, skin clean and bloodless, and moon-white hair pooling over the velvet beneath him. The only flaws were in his helm; one horn was still missing, and the lower half of his face was no longer caged in metal. His lips, now freed from their iron bars, were unsettlingly close to mine.
I was still studying them when his silver eyes flicked open.
“This is simply the way I am,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Cold.” He gestured to where my hand still clung to his hair, and I choked on my response, scrambling to the farthest edge of the bed.
A strange half smile ghosted his lips as he settled back into the pillows.
“It’s good to see you, Esmer.”
“Youtrickedme,” I ground out, embarrassment shifting into something coherent and sharp. My new weapon prickled under my skin, dancing with anticipation. “You put me on that stone so that I would replace you here.”
For a moment, he looked ready to deny it. Then he said, fixing me with a bright, unbreakable stare, “I did.”
I was not expecting a confession.
Nor for him to look like he did, lips caught in an earnest expression.
“What have you been doing all this time? Spreading Corruption, growing your army of demons?” I asked.
At his silence I barreled on, grabbing his shoulder without thinking. Even over his armor, his body was so cold. It felt as if I were touching a corpse, not a man with blood running through his veins. “Who have you killed? What evil acts have you—”
“I have doneunspeakableevil,” he interrupted, mouth slanting into an expression that showed part of his teeth. “In one year, I razed Noctis to the ground and forced all of humanity into chaos and war.” Shadows rippled from his eyes, spinning like smoke. “All but those I deemed worthy are Corrupt.”
“You’re mocking me,” I seethed, moving to swipe at the rising shadows. He caught me before I could. While he felt cold, his body was solid, a weapon meant for battle and bloodshed. “I’ve only been here a few days. A year is impossible,” I said.
“One year,” he confirmed, his smile growing wider. “Haven’t you figured out that the Dream Realm works differently than the mortal world?”
As he moved to still my thrashing, blankets shifting down from his body, I suddenly realized that the scent of juniper, night, and rain washim. Against my better judgment, a warm flush raced across my skin. The effect he had on me was becoming difficult to ignore.
“A year has passed, and my demon army is infinite, nourished by Corrupt souls. We are thousands strong, and I’ve returned to the Realm as their king,” he explained.
“Liar.How can you command your demons if they’re gone?”
His eyes flashed, revealing the smallest shred of disbelief. Had he finally noticed the silence beyond his chambers?
I continued, imagining the rage that was surely churning within him. “They escaped off your balcony—they’refree. If you hadn’t left, they’d still be contained.”
