1.
The night before Amryssa’s wedding, I readied her for bed as usual. Her groom hadn’t yet arrived, but already, dread clamped my lungs in a vise. He would come. By this time tomorrow, another monster would stalk the halls of this old house, and I...
Well, I would have to do something about that. Abouthim.
I tried to escape that awareness by bustling from one task to the next. I lowered the wick on Amryssa’s bedside oil lamp. Draped her nightgown across the foot of her bed. My movements flowed with the ease of familiarity, but tonight, even the careworn rituals failed to soothe me.
This knot in my belly had been tightening for months, ever since Amryssa’s father had agreed to marry her off to Elara’s youngest prince. To worsen matters, Prince Kyven would stay with us after the wedding. He’dlivehere.
A wave of nausea swelled in my throat.
“Harlowe.”
I yanked my gaze up. Over near the open window, Amryssa scanned the sky with pale eyes.
“What?” I said, unnerved by her tone. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a nightmare,” she murmured. “Heading this way.”
I tensed, wanting to doubt her, but my best friend never joked. About anything. “Anotherone? But we just had one last week.”
Amryssa didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to—a breeze billowed in, ruffling her skirts, drenching the room with the sticky brine of the sea. A whiff of fire, like burnt parchment, rode the edges of the gust. That distinctive smell turned a thousand screws inside my guts.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“It’s a bad one, too,” Amryssa said.
My hand flew to the dagger sheathed at my waist. The weapon wouldn’t protect me against a nightmare, but the feel of the antler hilt steadied me, anyway. “How far off?”
Amryssa studied the sky. Sickly violet light glinted on her cheekbones, hinting at what massed in the sky above the moss-draped trees. Long seconds passed without an answer.
“Amryssa.”
She blinked. “Hmm?”
I sighed. Her mind had clearly wandered. Again. “How much time do we have?”
“Oh. Twenty minutes, perhaps.”
Twenty... Damn. So close, already? Why hadn’t anyone sounded the bells?
I tossed her nightgown aside and arrowed toward the window. Against the cracked and weather-beaten frame, Amryssa looked almost ethereal tonight—a fragile, albino flower amidst this sea of faded finery. Her bone-white curls frothed on the breeze.
“Come on.” I took her by the shoulders. “Let’s get you ready.”
Her gaze didn’t stray from the sky. “But...I don’t suppose you’d let me go outside?”
My mouth twisted. Always the same question, with her. “No, Am. You know how that’d end.”
“Right. But...what about the prince? Has he arrived yet?”
I grimaced. Fuck the prince. More importantly, fuck the forest, with its twisted purple trees and their putrid purple glow and the bullshit purple weather they produced. I was sick of it, though more for Amryssa’s sake than my own. Within the hour, she’d be screaming more loudly than I would, and gods help me, how I hated hearing her misery.
“No sign of your fiancé yet,” I told her.
“Shouldn’t we wait, then? Make sure he gets to safety?”
“And risk ourselves? Forhim? I’d rather chew on nails.” I steered her from the window, then yanked the shutters closed without glancing out. No need to witness the coming carnage for myself. Already, fear coated my throat, thick and sour.
