She spun toward the throne. To Corvin. His eyes were wide, and his irises leaked silver, mingling with the blood in his mouth. He licked his lips, satisfied with the chaos he’d toppled them into, and his teeth dripped—a red and silver mix.
His gaze met hers over the madness. His head tilted. And the screams—they quieted to a dull shriek in the background. As Lux lifted her chin and strode forward, the nightmare seemed to ease—just a little—for her.
Corvin’s response was immediate. A corner of his mouth rose. “You look like you want something from me, doll.”
“I do.”
Lux climbed upon the throne.
Shedidwant.So many things. But mostly, a future of not being used. Of being free to choose. And though she would never choose this Overlord of Mothlock, this master manipulator of nightmares and dreams, she decided to allow him to believe she wanted only one thing.
Lux licked her lips, coaxed the abundance of want to her eyes, and said, “I’ve met my future, Corvin. I’ve faced my truths. Let me prove my worth.”
She kissed him.
Corvin startled beneath her. Lux thought he might actually push her away. But when her hands reached upward to grab hold of his robe, he finally seemed to decide she was quite serious.One hand pressed against her chin, angling it higher, and his other cupped her head.
And Lux fell into him. Deeply.
She dove for his soul.
What she found—
Spoiled and ancient.
Rotten, yet powerful.
Corvin’s corruptionpulledat her rather than shutting her out.
She didn’t want to touch it. She didn’t want to look at it at all. But if she didn’t dig farther, she would never know for certain. Lux reached, tentative and slow, and when her fingers clawed and her nails sank deep, Corvin jolted beneath her.
The corruption latched onto her right back.
Her mind stuttered; she could form neither words nor thoughts. Whatever this was, it was not alive in the traditional sense, but that didn’t stop it being shoved down her throat. She choked.
And in her drowning was her answer.
Greed. Greed. Greed.
She wanted to scream, but no sound left her. Instead, her lungs seized as they did right before panic set in. And when panic finally came for her, it came in waves bigger than the sea.
She retched and swore saltwater poured from her nose and mouth. This was bigger than corruption—far hungrier—thiswas madness. And it would bury her down here, beneath a crushing weight.
Don’t sink.
Her own voice. Not the nightmarish version or the dream’s.
You will not be buried.
Because Lucena Thorn fights for those she loves.
In that moment, Lux rejected every foul insecurity, traumatic memory, and overwhelming fear. In its place, she recalled everymoment of light she could. Of Shaw. Of her parents. Of majestic mountains, quiet trees, and sea air.
Lux fought to the surface with everything in her.
Corvin’s fingers were cold on her skin. His mouth was colder. At some point, he’d pulled her flush against him, his lips moving against hers; she followed him on instinct. When he moaned into her open mouth, she nearly died of disgust. She kissed him all the harder.
Until he shoved her away.
