I turned, jerking back a step as I came face to face with the gaping jaws of some beast. It took me a moment, and I nearly smashed it to pieces before I realized it was not alive. It was made of stone and carved into the wall. More twisted Ig’Morruthen carvings lined the walls, wings flaring wide and high, their tails curving behind them. I ran my hand over the swirls of the clouds etched into the walls, filling the spaces between the flying beasts. I could nearly see the motion of their bodies, but there was no sense of aggression, anger, or fear. This was not a scene of war or battle but one of peace and home, as if they existed in a land just for them.
I dropped my hand from the stone wall and spun, tossing my arms wide. “Can we get this over with? What weird, creepy thing do you have to tell me now?” My voice bounced off the walls and back, but there was no answer. “I was really enjoying your absence, just so we’re clear. I’d love to go back to my normal dreams now.”
Still, there was no answer. I knew where I was, though. It seemed that the orange-eyed man had once again returned to my dreams. Only this time, I saw more than just the shadows he cloaked himself in and his throne made of bones.
“Fine,” I said into the silence, and with a deep sigh, I headed deeper into the darkness.
It was a labyrinth, twisting, curving rows of jagged stone and steep edges. I was pretty sure that if I threw myself off one of these cliffs, I’d jolt myself awake, but another part of me wanted to know what he had to say. The rocky path finally ended, opening into an expansive cavern. I knew this place. Bones lay on the ground, some cracked and broken by sharp-toothed beasts. Serpent-like monsters were carved deep into the cracked and crumbling walls.
I swallowed, my eyes skirting past the decaying throne to land on the raised dais in the middle of the room. That was new. It was carved from the cavern, rising from the floor in a solid piece of stone to form a crude pedestal. The chalice on top seemed to glow, although there was no light in the room. The metal stem was thick and intricately carved, flaring into a ragged base. Metal wrapped the bowl in a careless filigree, molten red emanating through the incomplete pattern.
Taking a deep breath, I scanned the shadows and approached the dais. I stepped onto the raised stone and pushed onto my tiptoes to look inside the chalice. Gold liquid swirled inside, red specks sparking against the sides of the cup.
My nose scrunched in disgust. “Ew.”
I stepped back off the dais and froze. My hackles rose in response to the encompassing power behind me. I spun with claws out, but he caught my wrist, his massive hand making my bones groan. I blinked, thinking I’d been right before. A myriad of spikes grew from his head. The smaller ones started just above his ears and covered his skull, looking almost like thick scales growing amid the dark strands of his hair. Four longer, thicker horns flowed in elegant arcs from the back of his head, reminding me of the bony protrusions I had seen on many Ig’Morruthen forms.
He was huge and loomed above me, possessing a striking, almost painful masculine beauty. His dark eyes were both eerie and compelling, the pupil blending into the iris until the black met a bright ring of orange. His features were even, with a strong jaw and straight nose. He snarled down at me, displaying teeth as sharp as the jagged pieces jutting from his pauldrons and bristling on his gauntlets. His armor fit his body as if it were a part of him, absorbing all the light until it looked as if it were made of darkness.
“Ew?” He arched a single brow and dropped my hand. “Countless warriors, kings, queens, and beasts have braved this cavern in search of the gift that chalice holds. All have died, their bones riddling the ground in proof of their failure. You reach the prize, take one look, and say … ew?”
I frowned. “Sorry, ancient glowing liquid is not my thing. I bet it tastes like crap.”
His head tilted as if he couldn’t figure me out. Or maybe I was the first who didn’t give a shit about him, his creepy cavern, or the cup of magic blood behind me.
“You are … strange,” he said.
“I’ve been called worse,” I said with a careless shrug. “But since you’ve hijacked my dreams and we’re getting to know each other, what should I call you? You never gave me your name.”
Irritation flashed in his eerie, demonic eyes, and I realized he had expected me to know.
“Gathrriel.”
It felt like all the air was sucked from the room. “No fucking way.” I shook my head. “I expected this battleworn warrior, not whatever the fuck you are.”
“I am you. You are I.”
My lip curled. “Last I checked, my horns stayed on the inside or …” I waved my hand in dismissal. “That’s not important. So you’re saying you’re an Ig’Morruthen? Like me?”
“Not one. The first.”
My breath left my body. “But the stories …”
It didn’t make any sense, none of it. I replayed the story Logan had told me, but I knew there had been no mention of Gathrriel being an Ig’Morruthen. In the myth that was Gathrriel and Vvive, he was just a great warrior. It made so much more sense now. I held his gaze as it all fell into place, and I saw the moment he also understood.
“They truly have changed everything, yes? They rewrote history to satisfy their narrative. Tell me, what else have they changed? What do they say of Vvive’s demise? What falsehoods have they told of her fate?”
I shook my head, refusing to answer. Anything I said had the potential to propel him into the waking world, where he would burn until nothing was left. Vvive had split her soul for him. She was his amata. I wouldn’t have understood before Samkiel, but I now knew that there was no end to his wrath.
“I feel you.” He said it calmly. “Feel for you. When you wake, when you walk, when you breathe.”
My lips curled into a sassy grin. “Sorry, but I’m happily married.”
His nostrils flared. Apparently, my humor offended the ancient, original monster. Good.
“I think that’s why our attachment runs so deeply,” He said, ignoring my response. “You were manipulated, lied to, and then used for your power, just as I was. Kaden has my blood, Isaiah, as well, but they never tapped into it, not like you. We’re connected, you and I. We share the same rage. The same pain.”
Gathrriel moved so fast that I could barely track him, much less react. He had been standing in front of me, and then he was behind me. He wrapped one arm across my chest, the fingers of his other hand gripping my chin, holding my head still. I hissed and tried to pull away, but he held me firm. A shimmer formed on the cavern wall, and I went still as images began to flash across the stone. They scrolled by quickly, but I knew them all too well.
