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Sadie took a deep swallow, panic lacing its way through her heart—it wasn’t River’s handwriting. And she didn’t know if the “him” was meant to be River or someone else… But for the chance that it was him, she would cross oceans, worlds.
Lanterns illuminated in the trees near her home, the rain no longer coming down. An assortment of moths swarmed around the lights, the trees whispering. She walked toward them, plucking a lantern from a limb before allowing it to guide her down the path.
The low song of the wind played a new melody that rose within the woods. It grew in tempo, wicked and enticing, as it folded around her.
Out from behind trunks, the shadows slinked, their forms shifting, becoming skeletal and furred creatures. They lifted their alabaster hands, pointing her onward—not one sound escaped their animal skulls.
As she reached the vines, the goat-skulled creature waited, bowing its head and holding the foliage back for her to duck beneath.
“Hello again,” she said, her gaze scanning its long, bony fingers.
The fire flickered to life, not seeming to burn the logs, and the area that had been dug out was no longer a hole with dirt walls—an entrance rested there, just as it had the night before when she’d been dreaming. Last time it hadn’t felt like a dream, and neither did this, but dream or not, she wanted to remain there.
She walked down the staircase, holding up the lantern to guide her way, the light illuminating the symbols on the walls. As she descended the next set of steps, her pulse thrummed, and she tried to hold her lantern steady while moving closer to the dim light spilling into the area from below.
Sadie’s feet touched the dark stone of the foyer, and when she entered the main room, same as before, the male form in its center stood facing away from her, his dark hair just past his chin. The black dagger was in his hand, no longer on the stone floor.
Sadie didn’t want to waste time, didn’t want to disappear from this place before she confirmed that it was, in fact, River. She darted around him, her gaze meeting gray irises, and she choked on a sob. It was River. The angles of his face, the shapely lips, his aristocratic nose. She dared not whisper his name, still afraid she would wake from this lovely dream or that he might vanish from her sight.
He didn’t move—he was still as a statue. Then she remembered when she’d been here last, how when she’d touched him, he’d shifted. Unable to resist temptation, she shakily pressed a hand to his soft cheek, his skin cool to the touch.
River inhaled, his chest rising, the blade clacking against the floor as he dropped it. His gray gaze fell to hers, blinking. “You came, my sweet nightmare,” he rasped.
“Is this real?” she asked, her trembling palm not leaving his face—only his cool skin was now warm.
“Yes.” His hand captured hers, his other arm cradling her waist.
“You were frozen,” she murmured. “Is it really you?”
“It is.”
But wouldn’t an evil spirit answer the same? An entity of that nature could possibly take the form of something else—she’d known that, so she needed to make certain. “When did we get married?”
“October thirteenth.” His forehead kissed hers, their breaths mingling.
“What did you say when I asked you out on a date?” She held back the urge to press her lips to his, to kiss him until death came for her.
“I asked you out, and you said not in this life.”
Sadie laughed, tears sliding down her cheeks. As the image of him hanging from the ceiling slithered into her mind, the smile slipped from her face. “Why did you kill yourself?”
“I had to.” His throat bobbed. “Dance with me.”
“That’s not an explanation, River,” she said. “Was it something I did?”
“Never.” He drew her closer, her breasts brushing his chest. “Now dance with me.”
She furrowed her brow. “Dance? I don’t even know how to dance.”
“You do.” His fingers dug into her waist, his hand gently squeezing hers. And before she could argue, he spun her around the room, her feet somehow not tripping over themselves.
It was only the two of them, the light glowing from the doors. As he continued to move with her, his warm body against hers, she didn’t want to stop—she only wanted to be closer.
“Why did you leave?” she asked again. “Was something going on inside you that you couldn’t talk about?”
“All in due time, but for now, please just dance with me,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s all I ask, my sweet nightmare.”
Something in his voice made her not press the matter, at least not yet, to give him time. She rested her head against his shoulder, letting him lead her, her body seeming as if it was floating, the feel of his hard muscles keeping her grounded.
