No, I don’t. I tried to kill her with that curse. She was waiting for me to be vulnerable.
You could send Chelsea away.
Send her away?Have her pack her bags?No. It won’t work. That was what Helena was trying to tell us. There is no escape. This is war, and I’ve just dragged my new wife into the middle of it.
You have to strike first.
Have you been able to sense her?
No. I’m still blind.
Then I’ll have Stave send men to look.
I cross to the chaise, and every move makes me wince. The magic in those claws still lingers, making me weak. I sit and exhale heavily.
You’re not fit enough to fight a hamster.
I could fight ahamster.
Not a radioactive one.
It has a point.
But you could fight it if… no, it’s too risky.
What is?
No, no,Nightmare replies quietly.It’s a terrible idea. You can’t do it.
Do what?I growl, growing impatient.
You won’t like it.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.So you say.
You want me to tell you?
Yes!Nightmare pauses, and I know what it wants me to do—ask nicely.Please?
Please what?
I grit my teeth.Pretty please, with sugar on top?
I don’t know. You’ve been putting a lot of rules on me lately.
You threatened to strip away from me and claim Chelsea.
It got you to marry her, didn’t it?
The words hit me like a punch.
It manipulated me. This whole time—the obsession, the reaching out, the refusal to help hunt Helena—it was steering me toward Chelsea.
And it worked.
I should be furious. Instead all I feel is gratitude.
Because Nightmare was right.
