Chapter 75
Eden
It starts with a whisper.
Not a voice, not a memory…just a soft stirring of something age–old and cold in the back of my mind. My body is asleep, but my spirit is pulled into a dream that doesn’t feel like a dream at all.
I am not myself here.
I am only a witness.
Azriel stands at the heart of the Nightmare Court.
But it no longer looks like it did when I was there last. It shouldn’t be possible, but the skies are even more terrible. Streaked with bruised purple and smoky black. The stars are gone, consumed by a cloud of ash. It chokes out every glimmer of light.
The grass under his boots has withered into cracked earth, gray and brittle like bone dust. Onc droop, drained of color, their petals falling like tears onto poisoned soil.
The air ripples with dark magic. Every breath hums with power–and ruin.
aglow flowers now
Azriel stands taller than I remember. Shoulders squared, wings fully healed and expanded, casting monstrous shadows over the land. His eyes glow with burning violet light, and the shadows around him whisper like lovers clinging to his soul.
He is beautiful.
And terrifying.
The court bends to him. Literally. The once–spired towers of the Dream Court crumble and reshape, rebuilding themselves in darker, sharper silhouettes. Thorns of obsidian rise into the dead sky. Where once there was water and moonlight, there is now fire and ash. Lava seeps through the cracks in the ground. The palace shifts, its marble blackened and cracked, flickering with veins of red.
And then I see her.
Mara.
Crawling.
Bleeding.
Her elegant face is marred by cuts and burns, her mouth twisted in disbelief. She gasps as Azriel steps toward her, the shadows flaring behind him like wings of war. His hands glow with nightmare magic, and I watch–helpless and wide–eyed–as he lifts her with nothing but a flick of his wrist.
She screams.
He doesn’t flinch.
He reaches forward, wraps a single hand around her neck, and leans in.
“I am your end,” he says.
And then he tears her apart.
Not with weapons.
Not with mercy.
He unravels her magic from the inside out, ripping the threads of her soul apart until there is nothing left but
smoke.
There is no emotion. No regret. Just death.
He steps through her remains, bloodied and breathing hard, then lifts a jagged black crown from the ash.
He places it on his head.
The shadows kneel.
The court of dreams is dead.
Ash rules now.
I wake with a sharp gasp. Sweat is clinging to my body, and my skin doesn’t smell normal. It’s as though some of the smoke followed me into the waking world. I’m also trembling, and…wow, my t–shirt is drenched in cold sweat.
Disgusting.
I glance to my side.
Axel is sleeping on his stomach like a large bear. His mouth is parted slightly, one muscular arm hugging the white pillow. Peaceful. Oblivious. If I woke him up, he would hug me. I know that. But I don’t want to use his kindness for
everything.
I slide out of bed. Better get downstairs by myself…
The kitchen is quiet, but inviting. We cleaned earlier, and my old house no longer smells. I actually feel at home here now. Elvira must be doing that too. Like the morning person she is, she is already sitting by the table with a smile and a chipped mug cradled in her hands.
“You’re up early,” she says, not looking at me.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I pour myself some lukewarm coffee and sit across from her.
Nightmares?”
Trusting Elvira might be a mistake, but I need to talk to someone, and she is watching me with wide eyes.
I decide to give her a little. “Of my mate.”
“Azriel?” she sounds confused.
Inod slowly. “He’s changing. Azriel… he’s not the same. He’s stronger, yes, but the court…”
“Is it gone?”
“No.” My voice is tight. “Not yet, but…in my dream it was falling apart. Before Mara ruled, the Nightmare court was
the Dream court. I thought Azriel wanted to bring back that court, but in my dream he… He created an entirely different court. A court of Ash. Corrupted. Dark.”
Elvira’s lips tighten. “Do you think it will happen in the future? Like that dream was a glimpse of the future?”
“I don’t know.” I stare into my coffee. “Maybe. Or maybe it was just a nightmare that I shouldn’t think too deeply
about.”
We sit in silence for a while.
Then Elvira says, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
I look up.
She stares down into her mug, twisting the handle back and forth. “It’s about Cedar.”
I stiffen. “What about him?”
“I know he’s helping. And I know he’s powerful. But…” she swallows. “There’s something off about him.”
“You feel it too?”
She looks up, surprised. “You do?”
Tnod. “He’s too detached. Like…none of this matters to him. Like he is just…waiting for something.”
Elvira hesitates. “When we fought those fae a few days ago, he didn’t care about saving me. He doesn’t care about
me now either, and I’m his fated mate. Isn’t that odd?”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Azriel wasn’t romantic at first either.”
“But Cedar isn’t confused like Azriel was, and Azriel couldn’t feel the bond before you turned eighteen.” Her voice is flat. “Cedar can, and he’s avoiding it. And I get the sense that he’s not here just to help. I think…”
“What?”
Elvira looks me straight in the eye. “I think he wants you stronger.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“No,” she agrees. “But not for the reason you think. I don’t think he’s training you to survive Mara.”
I blink. “What are you saying?”
Elvira leans in. “I think he’s preparing you for her. That he wants you as strong as possible for when she flesh and steals your magic like she always intended to do.”
I sit back, heart thudding.
“Why would he betray Azriel?” I whisper.
eats your
“I don’t know.” Her eyes glint. “But he looks at you like an experiment, Eden. Not like someone he’s trying to
protect.”
My mind spins. The dream. The ash. The shadows bowing. And now, I have Cedar to worry about too.
“Eden,” Elvira says softly. “Be careful.”
I stare into the fire as the flames crackle.
Azriel is stronger now.
But I have no idea what he’s becoming.
Or if Cedar is helping me prepare to save him, or deliver me into Mara’s hands.
H
