Fractured and Forsaken

By Susan Fernandez

“Heed my words: the shadows hunt you. This will not keep me forever, Eva...you cannot fight your destiny.”

It’s been two weeks since seventeen-year-old Eva fought the Immortal One and somehow managed to lock him away, though maybe not permanently if she believes his last words—which she’s adamantly choosing not to. Unfortunately, life at the abbey she grew up in isn’t going back to normal. He marked her with magic, and the pain is a constant reminder that’s only growing more severe. Worse yet, the shadows from her nightmares are reaching into the waking world to attack her...just like the Immortal One threatened.

Eva would love nothing more than to just spend time with Tristan, the cute guy next door, but it’s hard not to worry the prophecy will come between them—the prophecy that says she’s destined to destroy everyone. There’s a dark tide rushing toward her, and she must figure out who she can trust if she’s going to find a way to stand against it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Fernandez
• Release date: Oct 20, 2021

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By

Susan Fernandez

Copyright 2021 by Susan Fernandez

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

ISBN 978-0-9972617-2-1

Ebook ISBN 978-0-9972617-3-8

Cover artwork © 2020 Dana Duncan

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

For my mother,

because she is the best of all things.

And for my father,

who is forever in my heart.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

The Devil has his hand upon her, Sister Claire said, clearly unconcerned that I could hear her.

Claire and Margaret edged to the far side of the hallway as I neared. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them both make the sign of the cross. They’d been afraid of me since the night I was left on the abbey doorstep as a baby, seventeen years ago.

Lord, save us from its corrupting influence, Sister Margaret murmured.

The darkness in her soul will spill forth and consume us all. We must guard ourselves, Sister.

Candlelight flickered on them as a draft disturbed the candelabras they held. Power was out again at the abbey from the latest storm to sweep in off the water.

The foul weather was entirely my fault.

I shielded my candle flame as I passed the nuns, my footsteps on the wood floor echoing down the wide hallway. I continued on to my bedroom at the far end, my back straight, my gaze trained ahead of me. They were not a problem for tonight. Besides, I was too tired to worry about whether or not Claire was right.

I closed the door behind me, went to the center of my room and let the late night stillness of the abbey gather around me. I took my time with the spell, working slowly and carefully.

The energy built inside, wild and strong, a flood threatening to overwhelm me. I kept a tight hold on it, pushed it out to the walls, lacing it together to form a bubble to keep any noises from escaping my room.

The first time I’d tried the spell after the night in the clearing, when I fought the Immortal One, the magic had poured out of me so ferociously it had knocked me to my knees. Winds had whipped around the room as flames slid along my skin. My long black hair literally glowed. The spell ended up being so strong it cut out all sound in the abbey, even the following day. No one could hear one another speak. No one could hear any sounds at all until I realized what had happened and broke the spell.

Apparently Greta had been right—I’d been keeping an awful lot of magic locked up inside me all these years.

I climbed into bed, trying to ignore how much everything hurt. The ache always started in the scar on my shoulder, but throughout the day, it sent tendrils of pain seeping through my whole body. The last bit of magic the Immortal One shot at me two weeks ago had seared itself into my skin, a constant reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything. He was gone, though, back in the Veiled Land where he belonged, so I should have at least been sleeping peacefully.

Instead the nightmares were getting worse.

I shifted around, struggling to find a position that didn’t aggravate the scar he’d given me, and eventually I dreamt.

*

I tumbled to the floor of my bedroom headfirst, still screaming, the red knitted rug doing little to soften the impact. I rolled over onto my back, sucking in big, panicked breaths. The shadow creatures had been chasing me. Again. This time, despite their insubstantial appearance, I felt fingers clawing at the back of my neck just before I woke up.

I had to pull it together. It was only a nightmare. Deep breath.

Okay, maybe another.

This was why I needed the silencing spell. Dreams about the Veiled Land I’d glimpsed through the gateway where I sent the Immortal One were disturbing enough, always so cold and empty, leaching the life out of me. But it was these nightmares of the town of Fairhaven crumbling to ash, watching shadowy creatures destroy everyone I loved—these left me screaming in terror.

Greta had been exceedingly clear I was not to do any magic after how difficult it had been to escape my power that night with the Immortal One, when my magic almost killed me. I had no choice about breaking her prohibition with the silencing spell, though. It only took two nights of Helen, Mary, and Agnes rushing into my room after hearing my cries, finding me shaking and terrified, for me to take steps.

I just, obviously, had to be careful with the magic. Controlled. The spell was simple, and now it dissolved on its own when I left the room. It merely kept any sounds I might make in my sleep from spilling out into the abbey, which would cause more worry for the nuns, who had no idea what was really happening.

I sighed. My forehead was sore, but I didn’t think it would bruise noticeably, especially not if I used Greta’s healing ointment. The stuff was incredibly effective, at least on everything but my scar, which was now shooting red-hot spikes down my arm and across my back.

I grabbed the jar of ointment then twisted around to inspect the scar in the mirror. It began in a swirl at my collarbone and curled over my shoulder, snaking down the left side of my back. The scar was deep red and it was still swollen, the skin shiny.

Except, of course, when it wasn’t.

At the moment, the part that coiled around at my collarbone was smooth, nothing more than delicate traceries of red. Yesterday when I woke up, it was the lower part on my back. It kept shifting in a really worrying way.

I carefully smoothed ointment over the thick lines, lines that curled around in a slightly different pattern than the day before. I still felt the faint tickle of Greta’s magic as it settled into my skin.

The ache, which seemed to stretch far deeper into my body than it should have, subsided under the cool ointment. Greta had given me the salve to help until she’d finished her final treatment on the scar, which was supposed to have healed everything. It hadn’t, and the relief from the salve never lasted, either. That was just before she and her grandson, Tristan, had left town.

I stretched to cover the last of the scar and something in my reflection caught my eye. I pulled my long hair back as I craned my head around. Three thin red scrapes stood out against the pale skin on the back of my neck.

Dread rolled through me.

It wasn’t possible. It was just a regular nightmare; I’d had them all my life. There was no way the creature from my dream could have marked me.

I traced the claw marks with my fingers. Somehow, though, it had actually touched me. Holy hell. This was bad.

I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about it, either, I thought as I quickly slathered ointment on the new, thankfully very shallow scratches, praying these would at least heal normally. Greta and Tristan had gone back to Haverhill, their hometown, to explain everything that had happened that night with the Immortal One to their council, and I didn’t know when they would return. They were the only ones around here who knew the truth about me. They were the only ones like me.

I sat down on the floor, unenthusiastic about trying to sleep again, until something pinged against the glass of my window. I scrambled up, thinking for a frantic moment the creatures from my nightmare had somehow followed me into the waking world.

I didn’t see anything outside, though, but a firefly. I tried to slow my breathing as I watched the light zoom first one way, then the other. Just when it occurred to me that autumn was the wrong season for fireflies, it flew straight at the window. I barely got out a noise of alarm, afraid it would slam into the glass, when it passed straight through.

The warm orange light danced around the room as I watched, too stunned to be scared. It drew closer, fluttering around my head, and I caught a tingle of magic that felt like someone familiar. My pulse skipped in excitement.

I held still while the light came in close enough to kiss the tip of my nose, and then I followed, smiling, when it floated back to the window. The glow slipped through the glass, sailing down to rest in the hand of the figure below.

Without further thought, I grabbed a sweater and headed downstairs. Outside, the storm had passed, the night air crisp, the world now washed in moonlight bright enough to cast shadows. I hurried down the porch steps and across the grass, my smile widening when I saw Tristan. He stood at the edge of the lawn, staring out at the ocean while the waves sounded a gentle rhythm on the beach.

He turned as I drew near, and I opened my mouth to comment on the bright spark of magic that danced around us, but I didn’t get the chance. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his warm, strong chest. After a moment of surprise, I slid my arms around his back, breathing in his comforting, woodsy smell I hadn’t even realized I’d missed.

Our visits had been limited after everything that happened with the Immortal One; between the nuns’ hovering and Greta’s scrutiny, Tristan and I hadn’t had time to talk before he and Greta had to leave.

I relaxed against him, the knot of anxiety in my belly loosening, finally feeling at ease again. Hardly anyone knew who I was—knew what I was—Tristan was one of the few. He knew everything and he still liked me.

Are you alright, Eva? His chest vibrated with his soft voice. What was that?

Whatever he was talking about, right then I didn’t care. I didn’t want the moment to end.

Tristan sighed, his warm breath brushing my neck. He pulled back to look at me. Tiny pinpricks of orange reflected in the deep green of his eyes as his light floated in, the glow growing stronger. I stared up at him, taking in the familiar line of his jaw, the tousled brown hair that fell across his forehead, his sharp cheekbones. His brows were drawn together over eyes filled with concern.

Ever since we fought the Immortal One, I’ve stopped monitoring your dreams, he said. I assumed everything was fine.

I tensed up.

The backlash from your nightmare tonight was strong enough to wake me out at the cottage, though. What’s going on, Eva? What did you dream about that was so potent?

I stared back at him, his face unguarded in the warm glow. I’ve been having nightmares.

Bloody strong ones, I take it.

I nodded. I’ve been dreaming of the Veiled Land and of Fairhaven being destroyed.

His expression relaxed at my words. I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine what you went through that night, what you saw.

Tristan, I hesitated, but I had to ask. Do you think it’s possible anything slipped through the gate from the Veiled Land while I held it open?

Greta had told me that the Lost Lands beyond the gateways were better left alone. All that was known of the one called the Veiled Land, in particular, was that it was a world of eternal night, where dark creatures roamed. From what I’d glimpsed, it was a land of nightmares.

He shook his head firmly. If anything had come through, you would have known. No matter what was going on, we all would have known immediately. He gave my arms a reassuring squeeze. I’m sorry you’ve been here alone, dealing with this. Now that we’re back, I can help. A slow smile spread across his face as his hands slid up my arms to rest on my shoulders. I couldn’t help the fluttering in my chest. If you trust me to watch over your dreams again, that is.

Oh god. He’d kissed me just before we went out to fight against the Immortal One, and I hadn’t had the chance to find out if he’d want it to happen again. I realized this was the first time we’d been completely alone since that night. I suddenly felt nervous, the comfortable ease of being around him crushed by self-consciousness.

I cleared my throat. So how did the trip go, anyway?

Tristan’s smile slipped away.

Yeah, I was terrible at this.

Fine, I guess, he said after a pause. Everyone was very relieved to hear the Immortal One is forever chained in his dark prison.

I took a deep breath. Do they know what I did? That the spell to chain him there was all me? The spell was supposed to take three of us to work…weaving it alone wasn’t exactly the plan, but he and Greta had been knocked unconscious.

We had to tell them, yes. He was choosing his words carefully. He took his hands from my shoulders, shoved them in his pockets. The Council gets how much of a risk you took, and they’re grateful he’s no longer a threat.

I waited.

They’re going to want to meet you.

Okay, well, that certainly sounded ominous. It wasn’t exactly surprising, but I had mixed feelings about meeting the people my grandfather had mistrusted so deeply that he’d faked my death as a baby and sent me away in secrecy, fearing they’d believe a dark prophecy spoken about me. Couldn’t imagine that going wrong in any way.

I wished Greta could’ve found a way around revealing what I’d done to the Immortal One. The Council didn’t seem to appreciate others having too much power…and I’d demonstrated a hell of a lot of power.

My grandmother tore into them for not coming to help us. It certainly didn’t win her any favors, but they deserved it. She was something to see.

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a wry smile. He was trying to lighten the mood, but I could see he was uncomfortable. I wondered just how badly things had gone with the Council.

I can imagine. I searched for a distraction. So, now that you’re back, when do you think Greta will be able to start teaching me magic? I’m afraid my knowledge of the basics is sadly lacking.

He was quiet a moment before saying carefully, My grandmother really needs to make sure you’re fully recovered from everything you went through before she risks letting you work magic again. It may not feel like it, but it would be dangerous to try anything too soon, Eva. Seriously. For you and anyone around you.

I knew Tristan well enough now to know when he wasn’t being entirely honest. So what was really going on here? I mean, there was certainly a lot of magic to handle, sure, but that just meant I needed to work on my control, which I was already improving on my own. It was clearly safe enough for me to work magic, so what were they afraid of? Was this about the Council?

I would’ve thought after everything that had happened, I’d have proven myself. Maybe not to the Council, but at least to Tristan and Greta. I’d faced the Immortal One and the prophecy hadn’t come to pass.

I was suddenly relieved I hadn’t mentioned the impossible scratches from my dream, which would only add to any concern about me. I stared up into Tristan’s eyes, no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he was just being protective of me.

The distance between us seemed to grow.

No. Whatever had gone on in Haverhill, I had to trust him. He had believed in me. Now it was my turn to have faith in him…faith that regardless of what the Council might think of me, Tristan would stand by me.

Of course. Whenever Greta thinks I’m ready. There’s no need to rush it. I stuffed away my concerns about learning how to defend myself better and mustered up a smile.

His answering smile held more than a trace of relief. Good. Well, I should get back before my grandmother realizes I’m gone. I’ll see you tomorrow. He started for the woods but paused after a few steps to turn back to me, his firefly glow still hovering before my heart. Sleep well, Eva, he said softly.

He disappeared into the woods as the glow faded, and I wrapped my arms around myself, adrift in the loneliness of the late night. Tristan had taken with him any sense of comfort he’d brought. I turned to head back inside, not knowing how to fix what was wrong, but the sight of Ragnarok Abbey, luminous against the dark sky, made me pause.

The abbey, so full of my ancestors’ magic, loomed protectively, filling me with a sense of tranquility. Moonlight cast a hazy glow on the pale shingles, and with the turrets rising from the corners it looked every bit the enchanted fortress it was. Whatever else was wrong, I was safe here. Besides, Tristan and Greta had returned—everything would be okay. I crept back up to my room, confident things wouldn’t feel so off in the morning, as they had for these last few weeks.

Overnight, however, the seed of doubt only grew, the idea expanding to fill my head: what if Tristan and Greta weren’t as certain as they’d said that I would never carry out the prophecy, never betray them? Greta had certainly seemed uneasy about my demonstration of power that night. Was that enough to make her doubt? If one piece of the prophecy was proving to be true, maybe that was enough to push her to believe the rest.

Her words echoed in my head.

A child of two worlds will be born with great power, power enough to beget our destruction. The fate of our kind will rest in her decision to betray us. She brings the dark victory in the war, a final end to it all.

I definitely straddled two worlds, I thought as I said goodbye to the nuns and headed out for school in the morning. The world I was raised in was nothing like the world I’d been born to. I had now shown great power, too…more power than anyone expected me to possess.

Maybe I shouldn’t blame them for wondering when, not if, the prophecy would come to pass.

School felt overly crowded, the hallway too warm after the brisk October wind outside. When I neared Mr. Edwards’s room, I found a bunch of girls clustered around Tristan.

Oh, you must tell us everything, Molly gushed, smoothing back the short blonde hair that framed her face neatly. I want absolutely every detail about what you’ve been up to.

While Tristan had been gone, Molly had convinced the entire school to ignore my existence entirely. I’d found it to be a vast improvement.

Katie sighed. It must be so exciting to be able to travel.

Where did you go anyway? What was so important that you got to miss so much school? Sarah asked, inching closer to him.

It wasn’t anything big. Just a boring trip home so my grandmother could… Tristan paused a beat when he caught my eye. Suddenly everyone in the group was staring at me. …visit friends, he finished.

It was as though that brief moment when his eyes locked onto mine had undone my invisibility, practically throwing a spotlight on me. Once Tristan saw me, I couldn’t disappear into the crowd, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. I kept my eyes straight ahead, passed the group and went to my seat, sighing as they all filtered in behind me with the ringing of the bell.

I managed to avoid Tristan entirely until lunch, the unassuming half hour that could end up sucking so horribly. My absolute favorite. I couldn’t help watching him as he threaded his way through the round tables toward the back of the gym. He walked with an easy confidence, a sort of brightness shining out from him that made him irresistible, not that his striking looks and air of mystery didn’t do that already.

As he neared my table and his eyes found mine, he hesitated. I wanted nothing more than to smile, have him come sit down next to me as though…as though we were friends. Instead, I dropped my gaze, focused on my lunch, willed him to get the hint.

When I looked up again, he’d settled down at the table next to mine with Molly and her usual crew: Sarah, who followed Molly faithfully; Nathaniel and Katie, who were busy being frosty toward each other over their latest tiff; and Oliver and Lisbeth, the most amiable of the group, who were talking quietly.

This was how it had been since he’d arrived in Fairhaven at the start of the school year. I swallowed my unhappiness. It was better this way, especially after last night.

I would keep telling myself that until I believed it.

When the last bell of the day rang, I was one of the first out the door. I couldn’t stand to be in the building a second longer, and the fresh wind blowing in off the sea helped clear my head. Dead leaves skittered along the street, bare trees arching over the sidewalk as I passed the quaint clapboard houses that became more sparse the further from Fairhaven’s center I went. I was halfway down Capestone Road by the time Tristan caught up with me.

Are you really that afraid of Molly? he asked, matching my stride.

I gave him a look.

I’m serious. She only has as much power as you give her.

That’s very deep, thank you, but you don’t understand how it works. You’re popular, and you probably always have been.

You’re right, I don’t understand. Considering everything you’ve been through, how strong you are, I wouldn’t think Molly could intimidate you.

I snorted. Molly doesn’t intimidate me, not anymore. She and I came to an understanding recently—she leaves me alone, and I stay out of her way. I also keep from scaring her, I added silently, remembering how she’d looked when I’d finally stood up to her, threatening to show Tristan who she really was. Just because I wouldn’t be cowed by her anymore, though, didn’t mean I wanted to spend my senior year in an all-out war with her. A system that worked perfectly fine before you came back and reminded her how much she hates me.

That’s ridiculous. He stopped walking, worry clouding his features.

I’m not saying it’s your fault, but you have to accept the way things are. It’s for the best.

Hmmm, was all he said in response.

We started walking again, but I wasn’t sure I liked his thoughtful silence. At least he wasn’t acting strange with me.

I shoved aside my doubts about Tristan secretly believing I would become the betrayer the prophecy spoke of. It was just paranoia. He left me at the door of the abbey with a promise to get in touch over the weekend.

Sebastian happened to be walking through the foyer as I entered, a coincidence I was certain Helen had engineered. They were all on full Eva-monitoring-duties these days to catch any hint of what might be the matter with me and make sure I didn’t implode or anything.

Evie, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re home. I was hoping you might keep me company for a while.

I followed him down the hall, noticing as he moved into the brighter light of his study that more of his brown hair was silvering. It gave him a distinguished look, which suited his position as the priest in charge of the abbey. He smiled at me, settling his tall frame at his desk as I pushed some books aside to perch on the wide windowsill. It gave me a sting of pain to know I was the reason for those new gray hairs, and though his brown eyes crinkled with good humor as he asked about my day, I could see the worry behind them. No doubt whose fault that was.

Nothing interesting happened? he asked after my standard reply of, Fine.

Why? I asked, wary now.

No reason, dear, he said with a chuckle. I just happened to catch sight of Tristan heading off toward his house. I thought, perhaps, you’d noticed he’s back.

Ah yes, how silly of me. I forgot to mention it.

I’m sure you’ll forget to mention it to Mary, as well, no doubt?

I admit I’ve been rather scattered lately; it’s entirely possible by the time I see her the fact will have once again abandoned me, I said, trying to keep a straight face. Mary was overly enthusiastic (and maybe deluded) about me and Tristan hanging out.

Yes, I thought that might be the case.

After spending some time with Sebastian, the rest of the afternoon disappeared in the kitchen as I helped the nuns with their preparations for a church dinner that evening. We’d had a handful of new nuns arrive at the abbey, and they always did a dinner in town for newcomers.

I didn’t join them, however, when they left with Sebastian. Since I’d had trouble hiding my magic as a child, the nuns had always kept me from spending any time around outsiders, and I was totally okay with keeping that up now.

Mary must have drawn the short straw, staying home to spend the evening watching over me with the flimsy excuse of feeling under the weather (an act Mary, with her ever-cheerful disposition, was incapable of keeping up for more than five minutes). Unfortunately for her, I was terrible company between the anxiety about what I would face in my sleep, and the dull ache radiating from my scar.

When I said goodnight, she put her hands on my cheeks. Don’t fret, sweet child. You’re strong. I have faith you’ll make it through whatever this is. Just remember, help can come from unexpected directions.

I stared into Mary’s clear brown eyes, surprised. Her chestnut hair was curled softly around her plump face, and she looked back at me with a warm smile. Mary had always accepted my strangeness with ease, even if she had no idea of the real story.

Get some rest, dear. You could use it. She turned back to her knitting. I headed up to my room, comforted by her words. I hated to leave the nuns in the dark, but it was my best option for keeping them safe.

Careful to call up only a small amount of magic, I wove the silencing spell around my room, alert for any threat the spell might hold for me after Tristan’s warning. But despite how overwhelmingly strong my magic was, how…eager it was to be used, the magic felt safe, comfortable. It felt more comfortable than I ever would have thought after spending most of my life pretending it didn’t exist. There wasn’t a hint of any holdover from what it had done to me that night.

I crawled into bed, and with the temporary relief from Greta’s healing ointment on my scar, I fell asleep quickly.

Soon my mouth tasted like ash, smoke lingering in the air, though Fairhaven had already burned. I was hidden in the remains of the library on Capestone Road, watching as storm clouds rolled through the sky, blotting out the sun.

A moan drifted across the blackened ruins of the town, a sound filled with anguish and pain, and worst of all, a deep, eternal hunger. It crawled along my skin, set my heart racing. The shadows grew thicker, darkening as the last of the sun’s light fled. Then I saw them.

Shapes began to drift from dark corners, searching, always searching. Creatures of smoke and shadow. Somehow, I was certain they hunted through the desolate remains for me.

I took a step backwards. The floorboards beneath me creaked too loudly in the quiet, and I froze. The way out the back was a hazardous path of broken, burnt boards. There was no way I’d make it without alerting them to my presence. If they caught me…I tried to breathe around the panic rising in my throat like bile. The abbey was my only hope.

I slipped out the front, crept along the remains of the outer wall as the wind brought the echo of a woman’s laughter. I barely breathed, straining to listen for more, my eyes darting around for any sign of discovery. I made it to the end, but the sigh of relief caught in my chest as I turned the corner and came face to face with one of them. As I watched, its form shifted, its empty eyes turning a familiar blue-gray, only icy and dead. It stared at me now from the hazy, wasted reflection of my own face.

It lunged without warning. I spun out of reach of the claw-like fingers, but they caught on my shirt. I yanked away, took off sprinting toward the edge of town. A piercing wail split the air just a moment before two more shadowy figures appeared ahead.

I tried to change direction only to find more creatures in my path. They surrounded me. I stopped, trapped, unable to summon even a whisper of magic to defend myself. Oh god, this was it. Fear sat so thick and heavy inside me it made me want to vomit.

Then suddenly the world shifted, and a hand slipped into mine. My eyes closed with relief at the gentle pressure against my fingers.

Tristan had come for me.

The air changed; it felt warm and dry and safe. A smile curled my lips, and I opened my eyes to a sky filled with stars. But even as I began to register the barren, desert nightscape around me, I heard the soft susurration of feathers. It wasn’t Tristan who’d saved me.

The Immortal One stood beside me.

My whole body froze. His hand still held mine, and he gazed calmly down at me with otherworldly eyes. The last Guardian of the Lost Lands. He looked just as I remembered him. Thick hair, black as the wings folded behind him, swept across his forehead. He wore a simple black suit, and he appeared to be in his forties. Except in the eyes. That was where his unfathomable number of years stared out at me.

Those eyes burned with an intensity I had tried to forget, though they held no trace of the anger or desperation that had been there last time I’d seen him. The honey gold of his irises turned to a yellow fire in the middle, surrounding the glassy black pupils, like eclipsed suns.

This couldn’t be real.

Before I could get any other thoughts organized into action, he turned his head, his attention caught on something, his eyes focused on a far-off point. He looked back down at me, a glimmer of regret showing in his face.

Go.

The word rumbled through me, saturated with his power. My breath caught with the force of it, and in the next heartbeat I was in my room.

I threw myself out of bed, scrambling to get my feet under me. I instantly lit every candle in the room with a panicked need to chase away the shadows, the flames jumping three feet high before I reined in my magic.

I was alone. My breath rushed out as I sank back down. It was over, I told myself, my hand pressing on my chest to keep my heart from bursting out of it. It was just a nightmare and it was over.

I had hoped things would be better now that Tristan had returned, not worse. Apparently seeing him again had only brought my memories of the Immortal One back with a horrifying vividness I didn’t appreciate. At least, that was what I told myself. I refused to even consider it was anything more than a memory…

The scar on my shoulder had resumed its efforts to infuse my entire body with agonizing spikes of pain. I knew from