Page 5 of Veil of Night & Flames

Except maybe they do…

I’ve been lost in my thoughts, and I only now notice that a woman is moving briskly toward us—the same woman I saw on the terrace. Her reddish-brown hair gleams in the firelight, similar to mine, albeit a shade darker. And her slow smile is so, so familiar.

She’s dressed in a long, gray tunic, practical shoes, no armor, and no jewelry.

And, yes, I can see how I might have turned this stranger into the mother I miss so much, even though the differences are so obvious to me now. Her face is rounder, her eyes dark where my mother’s were warm brown.

But it’s the woman herself who truly destroys the illusion. She stands with her hands clasped and her head bowed. But Cassie Lyte deferred to no one. It was one of the things I loved most about her, and one of the things that made growing up with her feel like being raised by a beautiful hurricane.

Kali tilts her head. “You seem disappointed.”

“No,” I say, and it’s not a lie. As much as I want my mother back, if she’d been on that terrace tonight, then everything I thought I understood about my life would be wrong. And frankly, I’ve had enough of my beliefs being twisted and turned to last a lifetime.

As if she’s read my mind, Kali dismisses Maren with a flick of her wrist.

Maren dips her head and disappears back down the hall without a sound as I glance around, wondering how many people in this castle move through their days like that—efficient and invisible unless summoned.

“About this realm,” I begin, turning back to Kali. “Chase calls it the Nightmare Realm. Does that mean—I mean, do people see things here? Strange or scary things that aren’t real?”

“Of course,” she says, and I feel like an eight-year-old who’s asked if the sky is blue. “This realm feeds on fear. On longing. On every emotion that might burn deep enough through you to keep a piece. The creatures here are real—the mares, the shadow-born, the beasts in the desert. They are real,” she repeats, “and they reflect what you bring with you.”

Her eyes slide over me, her expression bland. “You lost someone.”

“Yes.”

“Then you may see them in corridors. In reflections. Grief is the castle’s crack. It craves it. Longs for it. And turns it around before returning it.”

Her expression softens, and for a single, disarming moment, she looks almost kind. As if she understands grief, too.

Or maybe this is just one of her tricks—mirroring the emotion she sees in me, so I’ll trust her enough to stop asking questions.

“Don’t chase those visions,” she says, her voice almost gentle. “Some guests have lost themselves here, chasing reflections.”

“Right. Got it,” I say, happier than I should be about creepy visions. But creepy visions are a hell of a lot better than the idea of my dead mother actually standing on a terrace in the Nightmare Realm, having a chat with the Nightmare King’s second-in-command.

“Thank you,” I say.

Kali inclines her head. “Rest. The betrothal ceremony is in the morning. You should look like a bride, not a ghost.”

I laugh. And in that moment, I wonder if there’s a universe in which I might have actually liked Kali.

Chapter

Three

The suite is dim when I slip through the door, the low flame in the hearth painting everything in amber and shadow. I pause, breathing in the warm scent of woodsmoke and the odd tang of the salve the healer used on Chase’s leg.

He’s on his back, one arm thrown across the empty space where I should be. Since I don’t want to disturb his sleep, I start to take a step backward. That’s when he turns, his eyes finding me.

“Hey,” I say, hurrying to his side.

“I woke up.” His voice is low. Raw. “Where were you?”

Guilt crashes over me. My boyfriend woke up after almost dying, and while he was doing that whole disorientation thing, I was naked in a tent with Adric.

Bad move. Very, very bad.

So, of course, I add one more bad to the list by conjuring a lie.