he’d wanted her yesterday and every night when he went to sleep. He smoothed his thumb over her pale skin.
She sighed and pressed closer. “One night doesn’t matter. We will be married tomorrow.”
“Don’t tempt me into breaking my promise. I don’t want a war with your brother.” Yet he couldn’t pull his hand away. “Once we are married you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
He swept her up into his arms and kissed her until neither of them could breathe.
He set her down and drew away before the warmth of her body could tempt him further. “One more night.”
She cupped his cheek and turned his words on him. “One more night and then I’m yours.”
Idella stepped back as if to rejoin the celebration, one hand going to her stomach as it swelled. She glanced down, then back at him, years adding weight to her stare. “What have you done?”
A wound opened on her neck, blood poured out, and stained her clothes. This wasn’t what had happened. They’d gone back to the feast. Their first child hadn’t arrived for another two years. Then he realized his dream had skipped ahead. This was the night she’d died.
He tried to reach for her but couldn’t move. “Idella!”
Meryn jerked awake. His hand rested on the stolen knife, ready for an attack that didn’t come. Instead, Idella stood by the fire, arms wrapped around her stomach, lips moving without sound.
“No.” He threw off the clothing acting as a blanket and dropped the knife in the dirt; he would save her this time. He caught her as she collapsed. But as he touched her, she disintegrated, her body becoming dust in his hands. The fine, gray dust of the Shadowlands coated his hands. The dust nightmares were made of. His memories were coming to life to haunt him and remind him of what he’d lost.
He remained kneeling, staring at his gray-coated hands. Idella hadn’t been real, just a memory given life by the Shadowlands. The beating of his heart drowned out all other noise. This time it didn’t break at the sight of her dying. Grief didn’t rip him apart. It should; the devastation should still burn, but what felt like yesterday had happened years ago. The screaming in his head was silent, as if the ghosts of his family had finally abandoned him and left him to his fate. He released a slow breath, grounding himself in the present.
There was no blood on his clothes or skin, only gray dust. Meryn rubbed his fingers together, feeling the fine, cold particles. It was definitely Shadowlands dust, but it shouldn’t be here and his dreams shouldn’t be forming in the Fixed Realm.
He lifted his gaze and looked around his small clearing, but no other nightmares from his past had joined him. He’d tried to forget her and his children once. Not even being goblin had erased the horror. It had lurked, waiting for him in the shadows, ready to drag him down and punish him for forgetting. Forgetting wasn’t the answer. Remembering was. He was happy to dream of Idella, but not like that. He would not remember her by her death, but by her life.
He wiped the dust from his hands on his trousers and stood. Slowly he picked up the knife and returned to his bed, sitting so sleep didn’t follow him. The gray dust on the ground shimmered in the moonlight. What new horror would it breed when he slept? Would everything he feared be given fresh life, only to fall apart at first touch and deny him a chance to change the past?
Chapter 8
Nadine jogged slowly along Fraser Avenue. When she saw Meryn on a park bench, a smile broke across her face.
She made her way over and sat next to him. “You look happy this morning.”
“You came back.” He returned her smile, a dimple forming.
“I was hoping to see you.” That was the truth even though she’d tried to convince herself she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again.
He looked at her as if trying to determine if she meant it or was just being nice. A bit of both. She was curious, plus she wanted to
She sighed and pressed closer. “One night doesn’t matter. We will be married tomorrow.”
“Don’t tempt me into breaking my promise. I don’t want a war with your brother.” Yet he couldn’t pull his hand away. “Once we are married you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
He swept her up into his arms and kissed her until neither of them could breathe.
He set her down and drew away before the warmth of her body could tempt him further. “One more night.”
She cupped his cheek and turned his words on him. “One more night and then I’m yours.”
Idella stepped back as if to rejoin the celebration, one hand going to her stomach as it swelled. She glanced down, then back at him, years adding weight to her stare. “What have you done?”
A wound opened on her neck, blood poured out, and stained her clothes. This wasn’t what had happened. They’d gone back to the feast. Their first child hadn’t arrived for another two years. Then he realized his dream had skipped ahead. This was the night she’d died.
He tried to reach for her but couldn’t move. “Idella!”
Meryn jerked awake. His hand rested on the stolen knife, ready for an attack that didn’t come. Instead, Idella stood by the fire, arms wrapped around her stomach, lips moving without sound.
“No.” He threw off the clothing acting as a blanket and dropped the knife in the dirt; he would save her this time. He caught her as she collapsed. But as he touched her, she disintegrated, her body becoming dust in his hands. The fine, gray dust of the Shadowlands coated his hands. The dust nightmares were made of. His memories were coming to life to haunt him and remind him of what he’d lost.
He remained kneeling, staring at his gray-coated hands. Idella hadn’t been real, just a memory given life by the Shadowlands. The beating of his heart drowned out all other noise. This time it didn’t break at the sight of her dying. Grief didn’t rip him apart. It should; the devastation should still burn, but what felt like yesterday had happened years ago. The screaming in his head was silent, as if the ghosts of his family had finally abandoned him and left him to his fate. He released a slow breath, grounding himself in the present.
There was no blood on his clothes or skin, only gray dust. Meryn rubbed his fingers together, feeling the fine, cold particles. It was definitely Shadowlands dust, but it shouldn’t be here and his dreams shouldn’t be forming in the Fixed Realm.
He lifted his gaze and looked around his small clearing, but no other nightmares from his past had joined him. He’d tried to forget her and his children once. Not even being goblin had erased the horror. It had lurked, waiting for him in the shadows, ready to drag him down and punish him for forgetting. Forgetting wasn’t the answer. Remembering was. He was happy to dream of Idella, but not like that. He would not remember her by her death, but by her life.
He wiped the dust from his hands on his trousers and stood. Slowly he picked up the knife and returned to his bed, sitting so sleep didn’t follow him. The gray dust on the ground shimmered in the moonlight. What new horror would it breed when he slept? Would everything he feared be given fresh life, only to fall apart at first touch and deny him a chance to change the past?
Chapter 8
Nadine jogged slowly along Fraser Avenue. When she saw Meryn on a park bench, a smile broke across her face.
She made her way over and sat next to him. “You look happy this morning.”
“You came back.” He returned her smile, a dimple forming.
“I was hoping to see you.” That was the truth even though she’d tried to convince herself she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again.
He looked at her as if trying to determine if she meant it or was just being nice. A bit of both. She was curious, plus she wanted to
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