Sever (The Ever Series Book 3) (19 page)

I watch in horror as black smoke begins pouring from the princess’s wound, and my eyes widen as her appearance begins to change. Laughter fills the air as the princess’s flowing gown takes on the appearance of black scales while her pale hands have become talons. Even her face begins to change, growing longer and less human-looking as fire flashes in her eyes. I shiver. Maybe
this
is what she really looks like, and my brain was only imagining her with human features.

Turning back to the turret window, I take Alex’s hand again, remembering the end of
Sleeping Beauty
—when the evil queen turned into a dragon.

“Freaking fairy tales,” I mutter under my breath.

When a wall of flames erupts towards us, I leap into nothingness with Alex’s hand gripped tightly in mine.

M
y eyes snap open, and for several seconds I’m afraid it was all a dream. I can’t remember anything after jumping from the castle—only the hope that we would survive the fall. With a jolt, I look around for Alex, remembering that
he
can be hurt here, while somehow I heal. Sitting up, I scan the shoreline, first searching for signs of the castle. My panic fades when I see its shiny façade far in the distance. I don’t know whether we moved or it moved, and I don’t care.

Looking in the other direction, I find Alex lying several feet away, motionless, with his eyes closed. Scrambling over to him, I kneel down and touch his cheek. He’s cold to the touch. Frighteningly so. I whisper his name, but he doesn’t move.

With Alex unconscious and me not knowing when the castle—complete with dragon princess—will randomly reappear in front of me, I realize that I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t think I ever could have been, but now I have to prepare myself for the possibility that I may never leave this world. Taking Alex’s limp hand in mine, I pull the blade from my belt and slice at the air, waiting for a black seam to rip open and pull us back to reality. Nothing happens.

“
Dammit
!”

Dropping down with a sigh of disappointment, I search Alex’s perfect face, waiting for his bright blue eyes to open. Then I hear a low wail, a sound that chills me to the core. Looking out into a velvety purple darkness, I see glowing red eyes watching us in the distance.

“Alex!” I whisper frantically.

When he doesn’t move, I do the only thing I can. I run. I run toward the darkness and the glowing red eyes until I can feel the burning cold that I felt the first time I looked into Ever’s eyes.

This
is what hunted him.

I can feel its hatred the way I did that day in the classroom, and the closer I get, the colder I feel. And the smell. Acrid and putrefying. Something evil, driven purely by hatred. When the smell overwhelms me and the cold has frozen me into immobility, I scan the darkness.

What emerges causes me to stumble backward. Four beasts as large as horses but with features resembling wolves. Rising up behind them is a vast forest of trees illuminated only by a blood-red moon. One of the beasts stalks closer to me, and my stomach lurches with terror as its shape begins to change. Black fur melting into black clothing, fiery eyes turning coal black.
Silver hair
. Without meaning to, I take a step back.

The horsemen. Of course they take the shape of blood-lusting monster wolves in my deranged imagination. The Big Bad Wolf times four.

“Such a pity you’ve come to us,” he chuckles with disappointment. “It’s so much better when they try to escape.”

One of the other beasts takes shape as the girl with carrot-colored hair.

“Yes, brother. This one knows no better, but she will learn.”

Pulling out the blade at my side, I hold it up, allowing it to gleam in the unnatural light of the moon.

“I used this to turn your princess into a shish kabob.” Their expressions briefly shift from amusement to befuddlement. “Come on. Really? You don’t know what a shish kabob is? Well, which one of you wants to find out first?”

I was
trying
to sound fearless and menacing, but what he says next deflates any false bravery I may have had.

“You can stop only one of us,” the silver-haired horseman purrs. “Then what will you do?”

Okay, scratch that plan. The problem is: I don’t have a better one. I keep an eye on the other two, who I imagine are the silent young man with long snow-white hair and the girl with coal black hair. They remain as wolves, and I wait nervously for them to break off in search of Alex. If they get close enough, I might be able to give one of them a good jolt, but that’s not going to be enough to save me from all four.

“Come and get me, then!” I scream hoarsely. “What are you waiting for?”

“Fear,” the silver-haired horseman whispers.

An orange glow begins to build around the carrot-topped girl, and I think of Audra and our trainings sessions as a wave of energy rolls toward me. I manage to brace my mental wall just before the wave knocks me clean off my feet, leaving me feeling seared and raw. Getting up, I expect to be bloodied and battered by the blast, but I’ve already healed. The pain, though, is not something I want to suffer again. I scream as a silver thread cuts through the air, leaving a jagged wound across my leg.

Not waiting to see if I’ll heal again, I turn and begin running blindly toward the gnarled darkness of the woods. Something claws at me as I race into the trees. For a second, I’m terrified that one of the wolves or horsemen—whatever they are—has already caught me. Looking around in desperation, I see the branches reaching out and cutting my skin like knives. When a howl pierces the silence of the darkness, I begin running faster, not caring if the branches tear at my flesh. Seconds later, I stumble into a clearing bathed in a bright white light. Stopping, I blink and stare. At the very center of the clearing, there’s … an apple tree. With a single apple. A bright, shiny red apple.

“Really?” I mutter as the howling gets louder.

I’m being chased by the Big Bad Wolves, and now I’m standing in front of the poison apple from
Snow White
? The apple should have a flashing sign above it:
Go ahead, idiot! Eat me!

But what other choice do I have? I start running toward the tree when pain suddenly grips me. Pain like nothing I’ve ever felt, like I’m being stabbed in the gut by a thousand knives. I fall to my knees and look up at the silver-haired horseman. Before I can move, he grabs a fist of my hair and lowers his face to mine.

“When I’m through with you, you shall wish for oblivion.”

Reaching up, I place my hand on his chest and lash out with as much energy as I can. His hand loosens, and I run as fast as I can. A poison apple is better than the alternative—because I don’t have to imagine very hard how bad things will get if the silver-haired wraith gets his hands on me. A shudder runs through me at the thought, and without hesitating I rip the otherworldly apple from the branch.

Taking a bite, I feel my eyes snap open. I’m on my back, staring at the ceiling.

It was a freaking dream?

Yep. I’m in bed. I wait, breathing quietly, for something or someone to pounce on me. But there are no poison apples or Big Bad Wolves. Then I notice soft music playing, and I groan, wondering how many times my playlist repeated while I was asleep. Stretching, I roll over and stifle a scream when I see Ever lying next to me. His perfect profile is illuminated by moonlight—his bare chest rising and falling with each … breath. Wait—
what
?

He’s sleeping? He’s breathing? He’s in bed with me? Shirtless? Wrenching back the sheets, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and jump down, my bare feet smacking the cool surface of the hardwood floor.

I spin around, staring at my surroundings and trying to get a grip on reality. I know where I am—I’ll never forget this little island in the Maldives—but being here is impossible. Impossible … impossible like everything else since I first laid eyes on Ever. Running toward the moonlight, I launch myself into the sand and run out to the water’s edge like the shimmering liquid somehow holds the answers.

What happened? How did I get here? Looking around for some sign of reality, I start crying.

If this
is
real, then it means I never found Alex. My mouth opens, and a frustrated whimper escapes my lips just before a hand comes down on my shoulder. Screaming and jumping back, I turn and stare at Ever, who’s wearing pajama bottoms and rubbing his eyes like he just woke up—which, again, is impossible.

“What happened?” I whisper.

“Well,” he inhales, like he’s decided to humor me. “We were married nearly thirty-six hours ago. … Then we took a grueling twenty-hour flight—then a seaplane—to get here.” He touches my chin as I begin shaking my head. “And earlier tonight you made me the happiest man on this Earth.”

He smiles as his hands slip around my waist. Sneaking a look at myself, I see that I’m wearing a black lace and silk nightgown. Then I flinch as I realize that Ever’s skin is cool, and his eyes … his beautiful green eyes no longer have the supernatural glow they’ve always had.

“No …” I whisper.

“No, what?” he smiles.

I keep shaking my head, trying to wake up. This
has
to be a dream.

“It’s not possible. I was just with Alex. I—”

Ever’s grip tightens around my waist, and his eyes harden.

“I haven’t asked very much of you, Wren. In fact … that’s the only thing I’ve asked of you—
never
to mention that name again.”

He throws his hands in the air in an uncharacteristic gesture and stalks several feet away.

“Of all the times to say his name, you choose our wedding night?” he spits.

I feel the blood leaving my face.
Our wedding night
. This is wrong. Everything about it is wrong. I start shaking my head again.

“I crossed through the mirror to find him,” I whisper. “I had to. I’m sorry.”

“The mirror?” he repeats skeptically.

I nod, feeling tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as I look at this strange version of Ever. When he touches my cheek I jerk away from his oddly cool touch. Is this my punishment, I wonder, for trying to save Alex?

“Wren? When did you stop taking your medication?”

I flinch.

“Medication? What are
you
talking about?”

“The doctor warned us about what would happen if you went off the medication. You could suffer a relapse. Paranoia, disorientation, hallucinations …”

He reaches out and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Ever?” I whisper.

He looks down at me as he begins ushering me toward the bungalow.

“Who do you think Alex is?” I ask desperately, waiting for something—anything—to start making sense.

Ever’s jaw clenches.

“I
think
he’s your ex—and the man who tried to ruin our wedding.”

Breaking free from his grasp, I run past him inside, searching for signs that I haven’t completely lost my mind. Panting, I reach the kitchen and my eyes lock onto a rack holding half a dozen sharp, gleaming knifes. I grab one and spin around just as the alternate-reality version of Ever walks in. Seeing the knife I’m holding, he raises his hands.

“Wren? Put down the knife.”

I shake my head, crying, as he starts walking toward me. If
this
is my reality, then I don’t want any of it. Suddenly I know with cold certainty that I prefer immortal warfare to my worst nightmare—which is everyone thinking I’m crazy. Even Ever. Especially Ever.

Looking down at the knife in my hand, I have an idea, but I know it’s a bad one. I lower the knife and wait for him to come closer. Then, just as he gets within reach, I lunge forward and slice him across the arm. He roars in pain, and I watch as a slash of crimson appears on his forearm.

I drop the knife to the floor and feel everything spinning around me. Sinking onto my knees, I stare at the blood on the smooth marble floor. Ever’s blood. He curses and stalks out of the room, and I blink, wondering how much of my life—the life that I love and remember—has been a hallucination. I’m afraid to find out. No …
I’m terrified
.

Ever walks back in, his left arm covered in white gauze that’s already stained with blood. He goes to the cabinet and retrieves a glass, which he fills with water before kneeling down next to me. I look down at his other hand. In his palm is a small, robin’s-egg-blue pill.

Taking the pill between my index finger and thumb, I study it warily before popping it into my mouth and reaching for the glass of water. I swallow it and wait for something to happen, but nothing does. Cautiously, I look up at Ever, who’s still kneeling beside me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper listlessly. “In my alternate version of reality, that wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“I’m indestructible in your non-medicated reality?”

He laughs, but not in a mean way. He’s laughing in a gentle, humoring way, which makes it worse. I sniffle.

“You’re indestructible, immortal, mind-reading …”
and I love you—the you that maybe never existed except in my head
.

He wraps his arm around me and begins leading me back toward the bed. I sit down on the edge, and as he looks at me, I shiver. Then he touches my cheek with his oddly cool hand.

“I’m going to sleep in the hammock,” he says gently. “If you need me, I’m only steps away. … I love you, Wren. Everything will be better in the morning. I promise.”

I nod, even though I know he’s wrong. Sitting back on the bed, I watch as he walks out onto the deck. Then I start crying again. Had it all been a dream? Is that even possible—to dream your entire life?

I lie back and close my eyes, waiting to fall asleep. But I never do. I lie awake for hours without feeling tired. Then, finally, I sit up and watch the unbelievably perfect sunrise over the water. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that it makes sense that the Ever I loved never existed—that I just dreamed him up. A hero—someone perfect and immortal—to protect me.