“No…” I exhaled sharply, backing away. Slowly, almost fearfully, I reached for the back of my skull. Beneath my tangled hair lay a thick, padded bandage. The touch sent dizziness spiraling through me. My knees buckled. Sylum caught me before I hit the floor and pulled me against his chest.
“Careful,” he breathed, holding me as though my bones were glass. “I’ve got you.”
Our eyes met and I fell into the pools of amber as something inside me cracked open.
Memories crashed into me—beautiful and utterly undeniable. Our wedding beneath an archway of roses. Lydia fastening my veil with trembling fingers. The sun warming my cheeks as Sylum vowed devotion. Our moonlit dances. Our whispered laughter. Riding through the fields. His hand steady at my waist.
Two years of love.
Two years of peace.
Two years untouched by madness.
Our life together came back in a whirlwind of memories so clearly that my breath caught.
“Sylum,” I breathed, the name breaking on my lips. “Oh god… Sylum.”
I wasLenoreDeveroux, Duchess of Blackthorn, wife to the love of my life.
I clung to him as sobs wracked my body. He sank with me to the edge of the mattress, his arms fierce around me.
“That’s it,” he coaxed gently, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Come back to me.”
I remembered everything now. Riding through the moors… the storm… the frightened mare… the accident.
“I had the most awful dream,” I choked, trembling. “You were gone and there was another you… and Nelly was poisoning me and I killed you…”
Sylum chuckled against my hair. “I’ve told you not to read those morbid tales to Poe. They’ve clearly warped your mind.”
I looked up, wide-eyed. “Where is Poe? He must be beside himself without me to read to him.”
“He’s fine,” Mrs. Ashby replied quickly. “I’ve been downstairs reading The Tell-Tale Heart to him.” She wrinkled her nose. “Such a morbid creature. I never understood why the late Duke took him.”
Sylum guided me gently back into bed, tucking the blankets around me.
“You must stay put,” he said. “The doctor insists on rest for a few days.”
“How long was I asleep?” I asked, still dizzy.
“Three days, Your Grace, though you did wake up enough to fight me every time I had to give you the Laudanum the doctor ordered.” Nelly answered brightly. “You’ve hardly missed a thing.”
Sylum took my hand and brushed it with his lips. “But I missed you,” he whispered. “I feared I’d lost you.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. Even after all this time together, he could still undo me with a single touch.
“Alright,” he announced at last. “Everyone out. I want Lenore to rest.”
The others filed out as he pressed his lips to my forehead, but when he started to turn, I caught his hand. “Please don’t leave me.”
His dark eyes softened as he settled beside me in bed. I curled against him, my cheek resting over his heart.
After a long quiet moment, he murmured, “Do you want to tell me more about this dream?”
I drew a breath. “It was awful. My mother was in an asylum where she met your twin brother—also completely insane—and you’d nearly married someone else.”
He chuckled, staring at the wall as if picturing my words. “I can certainly imagine that was a terrifying nightmare.”
“Horrifying,” I agreed, nodding against his chest.
