Page 26 of Whisper of Nightmares

Euphemia cannot tear her gaze away. Cannot let the beast out of her sight, else it might drag her away and she would never be seen again.

Was it always meant to be like this? One step outside the confines of their town, and the nightmare would descend upon her. Hauling Euphemia away like an animal carcass into the frightening unknown?

She had been a fool.

There is no escaping it…

It is her fate.

The nightmare strides forward.

Fate or not, Euphemia mirrors it, taking one—two—three steps back. Heart erratic. Breathing labored. She scans the surrounding darkness in search of the shadowed figure she’s come to expect beside the creature as well. But he seems nowhere to be found.

Kelda, noticing Euphemia’s horror-stricken face, reaches out to steady her. Those vibrant, knowing eyes search her expression for information she will not find there. Euphemia opens her mouth to convey it instead, tries screaming at the woman to turn around, to run, but no sound comes out. She has become a writhing, silent worm desperate to wriggle away, but Kelda’s grasp holds firm.

Slowly, Kelda turns around.

Peers into the darkness.

The creature vanishes before her eyes can settle upon it.

And Euphemia feels her whole world shift again. An answer taking shape right before her eyes. Because she cannot deny that this woman has just scared away the most frightening creature she has ever beheld. And that, alone, changes everything.

Finding nothing of interest down the dark road, Kelda turns her attention back to Euphemia, a skeptic quirk to her blonde brow. “Afraid of the dark, are you?”

“It was just my hand. It hurts on occasion.”

Kelda nods, though she does not look convinced. She releases Euphemia’s shoulders. Waits. “You are not running any longer?”

Euphemia inhales, the crisp night airs filling her lungs with something that tastes like possibility.

For the first time in a long time, Euphemia sees a path forward. Not running. Not hiding.

A cure.

All of this—the nightmare, the curse, the shame—it all began with her sinful heart desiring someone. Longing to feel things no unwed woman should. And what better way to repair her sense of morality, her piety, than to show that her devotion goes beyond lustful yearnings and midnight promenades.

The answer to her problem is not terminal isolation. It is connection. Unity. Matrimony.

If Euphemia can be a good wife, perhaps she can rid herself of damnation. Save her family.

She’s astonished the thought hasn’t come to her sooner.

“No, I am done running. I have my answer.”

A wicked grin creeps up the side of Kelda’s face, revealing her one false tooth. “Dagfinn needs a wife. You need a plan. Both families prosper.”

A brief whisper of hesitation rears its head up.

Something about all of this feels too good to be true, like Euphemia is making a deal with the Devil himself.

What other choice does she have? Already, she is in the throes of darkness.

If this seals her fate, so be it. The possibility of fixing everything is worth it. Even if she is still doomed, at least her family will believe she’s safe, and the town will find her absence legitimate if she’s married of to a noble son.

Euphemia Branwen, the Countess of Thorfell Crag.

With finality, the new title rolls over her like the passing of a cloud.