Page 1 of Veil of Night & Flames

Chapter

One

Inever thought I’d see my mother again.

Considering she’s been dead since I was fifteen, that seemed like a reasonable assumption. Especially since I’d watched her die screaming in her bed, her face a mask of terror, like something out of a slasher movie. Except there were no cuts. No bruises. Just pure, cold, horrible fear. Hers and mine.

I’d watched, helpless and screaming as her face contorted. As if something horrible was barreling toward her, and she had no place to run.

So, no. I didn’t expect to see Cassandra Lyte four years later, standing on the terrace of a castle in the Nightmare Realm while I’m still wearing the king’s scent on my skin, and my body still aches from his touch.

And yet I’d seen her. I’m sure of it.

At least, I think I’m sure.

I’d been standing on the walkway after slipping from the tent I’d magically conjured, despite knowing for only about forty seconds prior that Conjuring Tent For Sex was even on my dance card.

Now Adric’s still asleep in the tent, and I’m alone in the courtyard, my head tipped back the way it was when I’d paused to take in the stunning beauty of this realm’s five orange moons. I’d seen the moons, sure. But I’d also seen the terrace above me. Along with the two figures who stood close together as if they were sharing a secret.

One was Kali, Adric’s advisor, bodyguard, Bitch Buddy, and who knows what else. She was all decked out in her gleaming obsidian armor, her shoulders back and her chin held high.

And standing beside her was my mother, her copper hair, just like mine, catching the moonlight in that familiar way.

Mom. Right there.

Except how? How was that even possible?

I didn’t have a clue, but my subconscious must have wanted answers because I took a half step forward without thinking, ready to call out—and then she turned, and Kali turned with her, and they disappeared back inside the castle through the heavy wooden doors.

And now I’m totally baffled. Seriously. This just doesn’t compute. Mom’s dead, so seeing her anywhere—even in the Nightmare Realm—is more than a little freaky. And seeing her with Kali is downright disturbing. Especially since, as far as I can tell, Kali’s most important job is to be the king’s SWB. Sycophant With Benefits.

The very same king with whom I’d just had insanely amazing sex. The ridiculously hot immortal ruler of the Nightmare Realm to whom I’d traded my hand in matrimony for his blood. Blood that saved his brother’s life.

Chase. The man I love.

I hug myself, thinking of him. The king’s brother, who also happens to be immortal. And a Nightmare Hunter. And the man I’ve fallen for hard and fast and deep.

So, yeah. It’s no wonder my mind’s playing tricks. But I wish it wouldn’t, because I’ve got plenty of drama in my life without adding visions of my dead mother to the mix.

I hug myself to stifle a shiver. Was she really here? Or am I just so emotionally drained that I hallucinated the mommy I wanted to cuddle and protect me? Or maybe some sort of Nightmare creature stole her form to fuck with me?

I have no idea, and that simple truism sits like a lump in my gut. I’m in the Nightmare Realm—hell, I’m about to be the Nightmare King’s bride—and yet I still don’t understand my freakishly crazy new life.

Stop it.

That’s good advice, and I draw a breath, then release it slowly. I’m getting worked up over nothing. I mean, it couldn’t have actually been my mother, right? Kali must have been on the terrace with someone else. A friend or a minion who looked like Cassie Lyte. Just a resemblance. And they’d talked, then gone back inside. Normal stuff. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.

Except it really looked like Mom.

And shouldn’t I, of all people, know that the impossible has a way of putting on its nice, shiny Hell-Yeah-It’s-Possible coat and taking a stroll through the woods?

After all, I’m a college freshman from Florida who just slept with the dark and deliciously sexy Nightmare King himself. But I’m also a girl who’s in love with the king’s brother—a dragon-riding Nightmare Hunter who could easily pass for a GQ cover model. Hell, they both could.

Not that long ago, my biggest problem was a sleep disorder and a roommate who burned too much sage. Now I’m standing barefoot in a castle in another dimension/realm/whatever-you-call-it, wondering if my dead mother’s hanging out here, too.

I mean, seriously? Can this really be my life?

Yes. Yes, it can. And it’s absurd.