Everlasting (The Immortals #6)(35)
“Stil bedding the chambermaids?” Alrik cal s. Only to have Rhys reply, “Dairymaid, brother, dairymaid. Try to keep up!”
His horse gal ops off, taking Rhys along with him, as Alrik pul s me toward the lodge, lips brushing my cheek as he says, “I apologize for him. I was hoping he’d spare you from that brand of crudeness, but perhaps that was just foolish on my part. Stil , al that real y matters is that he brought you to me. He did as I asked, and you’ve arrived safely.” He gazes down at me with a face fil ed with so much love and devotion, I swal ow everything I was about to tel him about just how crude his brother real y is, not wanting my words to mar his expression.
“Actual y, I slept through most of the journey, if for no other reason than to tune him out,” I say, finding a compromise that succeeds in making him laugh.
“Then you are not tired? You are not longing for bed?” His eyes glint on mine.
I gaze from him to the stil -darkened night sky, to the door he’s propped open that leads to a rustic yet sumptuous room just beyond.
“Oh, I’m feeling quite rested.” I smile. “But I have no objection to bed.”
chapter seventeen
After an hour or two of giggling, cuddling, and whispering to each other—making grand plans for our new life together, a life that begins tomorrow afternoon, Alrik and I fal to sleep. He stil ful y clothed (minus his boots of course), me stripped of the dress I arrived in, stripped down to the same dressing gown his brother found me in.
Alrik’s arm is tossed around my waist,
anchoring me tightly to him. Our bodies conforming, pressed so snugly together I can feel the beat of his heart at my back, the rustle of his breath at my ear. And I’m determined to sink into the feel of it, to push aside any stray worries, any lingering fears, in favor of this moment together. Eager for tomorrow, when our exchange of vows wil al ow us to love each other freely, openly—no longer relegated to vacant horse stal s, or secluded spots in the forest that surrounds my parents’ house. No longer forced to pul ourselves back just when the moment becomes truly heated.
It’s a change I look forward to.
But those are the kinds of thoughts my conscious mind is al too happy to dwel on, the moment I fal unconscious my guard slips and a long list of worries seeps in. Manifesting themselves in the strange language that only dreams speak, immersing me in a bleak and foreign landscape where Alrik is nowhere near and a dark hooded being chases me.
I race through brambles and bushes. I race for my life. Wincing against the sting of sharp thorns that snare at my skin and tear at my clothing—leaving me tattered, battered, bruised, but stil I race on. Yet, no matter how fast I run, it’s not fast enough. I can’t seem to escape it.
Can’t escape the dark hooded being that’s coming for me.
Bearing down on me.
Claiming me.
Ending me…
I bolt upright, a horrifying scream piercing my sleep. Not realizing until Alrik bolts upright beside me and pul s me tightly to his chest that the sound came from me.
“Adelina! My darling, my sweet, are you okay?
What has happened? Was someone here? Speak to me, please!” His hands cup my cheeks, making me face him as he stares into my wide, frightened eyes.
“I—” I blink rapidly, taking a moment to pul away, to gaze around the room, as I fight to get my bearings, to remind myself of where I am, who I am, but stil haunted by the horrible visions I saw, as though the dream has continued.
Alrik leaps from our bed, reaches for the torch and shines it on every corner of the room. Final y assured that no one else has joined us, he returns to my side and says, “My sweet Adelina, relax. It was only a dream.”
He murmurs a stream of sweet words in my ear
—promises, declarations of love, a steadfast assurance that it doesn’t mean anything—that I’m perfectly safe—that I wil not be harmed in any way. But I know better.
Know there is no such thing as just a dream. My dreams are not the kind other people have. My dreams have an uncanny way of coming true.
Prophetic my mother cal s them. Warning me from a young age, when I first started having them, to never speak of them again—to do my best to block them out, lest anyone find out. It will wreck your life, she’d said. That sort of thing is deeply frowned upon.
But tonight, I’ve no choice but to tel Alrik, to warn him of the terrible thing yet to come. I’ve had this dream before, many times since I was a girl. Though this is the first time I’ve come to realize what it means.
That the time has now come.
From the warm, safe shelter of his arms, I al ow my eyes to sadly roam his face, my voice low, nearly a whisper, as I say, “We wil never be married.” I look at him, making sure he understands that my softened tone should not belie the intensity of my words. “I tone should not belie the intensity of my words. “I won’t make it to the ceremony.”
Alrik balks, shakes his head, searches for a way to comfort me. “That’s preposterous!” he says.
“It was merely a nightmare, nothing more. It means nothing, absolutely nothing—or at least nothing more than a perfectly normal display of pre-marriage jitters. Our lives are about to change in a very big way—we are about to embark on the life of our dreams. And while I know you’re excited, I suspect you’re also a tiny bit frightened as wel , and this is how that sort of fear often chooses to manifest itself. But my darling, my sweet Adelina, please know that you have nothing to worry about. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Not now, not ever. Do you hear?