Page 4 of Blood of the Fairest

This isn't my first time fighting for my life to fend off an attacker, and this moment feels exactly like the real thing did.

But this doesn't feel like just another post-traumatic nightmare. It feels so…

"Get off," I choke, freeing one hand to push this attacker's handsome, sneering face away.

I must be going into shock, because I feel weak. Shoving at him like this shouldn't do much.

Only, it does.

A spine-chilling scream breaks from the man. He releases me, rolling away to shriek and claw at his face, which is now smeared with the blood I didn't realize was dripping from my cut hand.

Everywhere the redness is smeared, his skin begins to steam and bubble, like I just poured acid on it. It spreads quickly until his entire head is⁠—

Oh, god. It's melting.

Graphically.

So, so much more graphically than my squeamish self could ever dream up.

Her blood, you oaf. You've seen what nightmarish sorts of things just one drop of it does to people.

I rip my gaze away from him, rattled to my bones by the stomach-turning gore. The third man is nearing me now, holding a sword. He moves like he's approaching a venomous snake.

"Your Majesty," he grits.

He glances briefly down at Lip Smacker when his screams die off completely, the melting apparently complete.

The other murderer—Otto—has risen to his feet. He's circling behind me, spitting out…

Blood.

My breathing turns ragged, my throat dry as a bone. Even though my stomach is churning, I can't look away from the red liquid dripping from the broken nose of my first attacker. Dizziness sweeps through me so fast that this entire kaleidoscope-colored cemetery starts to sway.

How the hell can I be this thirsty inside of a dream?

Unless…

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

This can't be happening.

"This isn't real," I blurt, hysteria setting in. I literally pinch myself. Ow. "Nope. No. Neither of you exists."

"What's she on about?" Otto asks from right behind me.

"What I'm on about is that this is not actually happening," I insist.

I cut a look between them, trying hard not to look at the half-melted goo that was once a man on the ground nearby. This has to all be in my head, so I slap my face lightly with my non-injured hand. Then a lot less lightly.

Ow again, but it's no use.

"Just wake up," I order myself. "Wake. The fuck. Up!"

"She's returned a madwoman," Otto spits.

The man in front of me takes another step closer, lifting his sword and eyeing me.