“You seem to think I have control over what our magic does together.”
“Don’t you?”
“No.”
“But the balcony?—”
“That wasn’t me. That was…” He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then Eryx Nightshade, Nightmare King, sits in a wingback chair. He drops his elbows to his knees, face tilted toward the floor, and says in a dark, sad voice, “I carry a magical essence with me all the time. Its name is Nightmare, and it is what came to you on that balcony. Not me. Do I wish it had been me? Yes.”
He looks up and his gaze stabs me in the heart. There’s anguish and loneliness in his eyes. So much loneliness, like he carries an invisible burden no one else could possibly understand.
Just like Nancy said. A voice in his head. All the time. Since he was young enough to have it nearly drive him mad.
No wonder he looks at me like I might run. Everyone probably has.
“I was trying to figure out a way to tell you. I didn’t expect it to be the day we got married, but here it is.”
He sits up and slumps back on the chair, waiting for me to say something.
I sit in the chair opposite him. “How long have you had this being?”
“When my father died, it came into me. It’s the power behind my magic, and it’s what we inherit, each and every Nightmare King. I can’t live without it, but it can live without me.” He looks away. “I tried to stop it back there when we…but it said it couldn’t. That your magic was pulling it.”
“Mymagic?”
“That’s right.”
His words settle into me. “My magic was pulling yours? But how is that possible. It’s not sentient.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re married.” He plows his fingers through his dark, silky hair. “Maybe it’s because we’re opposites—light and dark. Or maybe”—he meets my eyes—“there’s something between us that we don’t understand.”
I swallow down a lump in my throat.
If the truth be told, when Eryx and I were in the thick of it a few minutes ago, it felt amazing. Thrilling. And a little risky.
Maybe our magic is what has pulled me toward Eryx ever since we met.
Or maybe it’s just Eryx.
I release a slow breath. “Is Nightmare…is it why you asked me to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“Because”—his gaze slashes left—“it’s obsessed with you.”
And that hits me even harder. My rib cage pulses. I place a hand on my stomach to ground myself. “Why?”
His lips curl into a lopsided smile. “I think it’s because you pair sparkly sneakers with ballgowns.”
Our gazes latch and we both laugh, though mine is more of a huff. His eyes crinkle, and he’s just so stinking handsome. And charming. And dangerous.
But maybe he’s not dangerous to me.
“And what about you? Did you want to marry me, or was it just Nightmare?”
“I want…you to look at me like I’m not a monster. Like I’m just Eryx.”
