“Emory.” Shivers raced up her spine, turning her nerves into mush. She exhaled, slowly as she took him in. They had to be around the same age. His long, blond hair was tied back, his strong angular face hiding secrets and temptations tucked within the corners of his mouth. Her gaze roamed, uncontrolled and blatant, working from his jawline, to the crook of his shoulder. His loose shirt clung to the edges and valleys of his muscles. He radiated, and it was all for her.
“Emory.” As he strode toward her, everything else faded away. Dream, reality, she didn’t care about the definition. Her feet carried her, not faltering, as she closed the space between them. His strong hands cupped her face gently, securely, the warmth from his fingertips flushing her skin. Resting his forehead against hers, she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of fresh rain and mint. “Em.” No, don’t say it. Please, do not say it. “He is coming for me. For us both.” Her eyes lids fluttered open, taking in his ice-blue eyes. A snap of the twig sliced through the woods, and nervous tittering rippled around them. He froze and she could practically taste the tension rolling off him.
“Memphis.” Snap. Snap. Snap. “Memphis.” She was thrown backward, and the world was devoured in flame. Fire towered above her, eating away at the trees, the lush leaves. She could taste the ash, clogging her throat, blinding her, tickling her skin like she was standing in the eye of the storm. Rolling, she tried to stand, to scream, to escape the nightmare. Golden eyes flashed through the haze. “Run.” Memphis’s voice hooked into her mind, her heart, the marrow of her bones. Teeth flashed as his screams grew desperate and terrified around her. “Em, Run!”
She wheezed through the smoke, her lungs clotting, vision spinning. The ground shook behind her, and she pumped her arms faster. She flung herself forward faster and faster until gravity left her. Her teeth sank into embers and dirt. Spitting and coughing, her flesh burned, but she tried to stand, to keep going. Sharp claws ripped through her pants, shredding skin and muscle. Bile clawed up her throat as she was dragged backward screaming. She was flipped on her back and expected to see a monster.
Instead, a man smiled down as the flames crackled hungrily around them, the scenes dancing in her eyes. His golden eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer, like a lover’s embrace as he whispered, “Emory.” From his knuckles, smooth, inky talons ripped free. They stroked up her legs and sides, trailing along her shoulders. He whispered, “Come back to me.” Her scream lodged in her throat as he smiled and drove his claws down, the world tipping then disappeared.
Her body was soaked in sweat. Cold and heavy, her skin prickled as she tried to still her racing pulse. Her room took shape under the blanket of the night, thunder rolling ominously. Her tongue felt thick and swollen as she got her bearings. Her legs were tangled in her comforter, her hair sticky and slick. Breathe. Just breathe. She looked to the walls surrounding her as the lightning flashed, illuminating everything before plunging again in the darkness. Her pile of laundry, assortment of books, her mish-mashed dresser. No trees. No thicket of woods. No two men. One, a mystery, a gravitating calm that pulled at her. The other, a killer. A monster.
She shuddered, frowning as she pulled her sheets closer around her. It was just a dream. One she had in variations since she was a teenager. Always ending the same. Always in blood. In fire. In ash. Groaning, she pulled the sheets over her head, laying back down. Thunder rolled, a growing tempo, as she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she could get more sleep and thanking the forces in the universe that she was off tomorrow. She drifted, piercing eyes and soft murmurs chasing at her heels, trying to lead her back, and she allowed them too.
Part 3
Dark King
24
Memphis
Six Years Earlier
He just stared at the empty space where both of his best friends had been. The snow, the ice, and the howls seemed a world away as his hands trembled and tears streaked down his cheeks. What had he done? He paced, bile searing his throat. The aches in his bones and in his bruised and bloodied skin roared in pain, but he couldn’t stand still. What had he done? His mind reeled as the air around him churned, as if being sucked in toward itself, only to expand, blasting energy backward as Brokk reappeared swaying.
He surged, spittle flying from his mouth as he gasped. “Is she safe? Brokk?”
“She’s safe.” He looked down to his shaking hands. Dread pooled in his stomach as he looked to his friend, as he swayed, and as relief flooded through him. He closed the space in between them in two seconds, his muscles constricting as his fist flew, cracking against his jaw and snapping it backward. Blood stained the white snow as Brokk swiveled back toward him, ebony claws bursting from his knuckles.
He snarled. “This is really a priority right now?”
He was unhinged as his voice rose serval octaves. “How long?”
Brokk stepped forward. “How long, what?”
The world tipped as he whispered, “Have you been lying to me?”
Spitting on the ground, he jabbed with his claws at Memphis’s chest. “Memphis,
