Little raven,” a cold voice whispered.
Selene stood in the entryway to Northwind Castle. The air was hazy and dim, with that dreamscape-feel. Down the corridor, a light disappeared around the corner, leaving the area in shadows.
“Selene,” the voice rasped, using her name for the first time.
She closed her eyes, ignoring the sudden chill, and pressed against the dreamscape with her power, pushing out with her mind until her hands shook at her sides. Change, change!
A cold breath blew across her cheek, filling her nostrils with the smell of rotting flesh. “There you are, little raven.”
Selene gasped and her eyes flew open. She flung herself away from the Dark Lady. “Get away from me!”
“I cannot,” the shadow whispered. “For you are mine.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted two people, pale and translucent like spirits, standing beside the broad doors that led out into the courtyard. Taegis and Sten.
She shook her head, confused. What were they doing here?
Before she could find an answer, the Dark Lady glided toward her. Selene spun around, transformed into a raven, and flew off.
She soared along the hallway, passing more and more translucent people. She clicked her beak. Who were these people? Were they real? Or was her mind filling this dreamscape with her own memories?
She rounded the corner and searched ahead for the light. It appeared at the very end of the corridor. She passed by more people, some vaguely familiar. But she had no time to stop and look at their faces, not if she was going to catch up to the light—
Surprised and terrified shouts filled the air behind her. Selene hovered for a moment and looked back. The Dark Lady drifted along the hall, passing the same people she had flown by moments ago. As she passed them, they collapsed across the floor, lifeless.
A frigid stinging filled her chest. What did the Dark Lady do to those people?
The Dark Lady looked up, and her lips spread in a sinister smile.
Selene spun around, soaring toward the end of the hallway. Dart’an! I can’t let the Dark Lady catch me.
The light disappeared upstairs. Selene flew in pursuit. The light seemed to slow down along the corridor with the windows that overlooked the sea. Selene sucked in a breath of air and winced at the stitch in her side. Not only did the light seem slower, it appeared more brilliant, overtaking the darkness of the hallway.
She stretched out her body and pumped her wings. I’m almost there. I can reach it. Maybe if I touch it, this nightmare—and the Dark Lady—will disappear.
But the light swerved around the corner and vanished.
Selene rounded the corner in surprise. What happened? Where did the light go—?
Hands grabbed her feathered body. Selene cawed and fought back with her wings and talons.
“You are mine, little raven,” the Dark Lady hissed. “You always will be.”
“Never! Damien, help me!”
Selene sat up with a gasp. Her covers were tangled around her body and drenched in sweat. The wind rattled the windows and moaned outside. Grey clouds filled the sky, accentuating the chill inside her bedroom.
She leaned forward and gripped the front of her nightgown, breathing heavily. She could still feel the Dark Lady’s cold hands around her and the terror that had encapsulated her.
Why, after all this time, after her supplications back at Rook Castle, was the Dark Lady finally visiting her?
But I don’t want her. Not anymore.
She held her face in her hands. Why did she keep dreaming about this? Was this her dreamscape?
The door wrenched open at the foot of her bed, and Damien burst in, his shirt untucked and his feet bare. “Selene, are you all right?”
Her eyes went wide, and she pulled the furs up to her chest. “Yes. Why?”
He leaned against the doorway and ran a hand through his untidy hair. “I heard you yelling and I thought . . .” He looked back at her and dropped his hand. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It was only a-a nightmare.”
“A nightmare? Do you want to talk about it?”
Selene turned away. “No. Not really.”
There was a pause. “I understand. Some things are too hard to speak of.”
Her head snapped up. Was he referring to the death of his family?
“If ever you want to talk, just let me know.”
She had half a mind to tell him of the Dark Lady and her fears, but something stopped her. Was it shame?
“I’ll see you soon.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Selene frowned. See you soon? She pressed a hand to her forehead. She had forgotten Damien had invited her to break their fast together this morning. Something about sharing a family tradition with her.
She dropped her hand and pushed the heavy quilts and furs aside. The cold air helped clear her mind as she stood to her feet. The floor was icy to the touch, sending another jolt of awakening through her body. The thought of spending the morning with Damien lightened her heart, banishing the images from her most recent nightmare. The Dark Lady could not have her. Her mother and sister might worship the Lady of the Night, but not her. She wanted something more. Something new. And her life with Damien could give her that chance.
Selene shivered from the cold, reaching for the wrap that lay at the end of her bed. As she pulled it across her shoulders, she paused. She remembered screaming Damien’s name in her dream. Had she yelled his name in the physical world as well?
He had obviously come from bed to check on her, given his state of undress. The thought touched her heart, and warmth spread across her body, reaching her fingers and her toes.
A half hour later, Selene sank down on the rug beside Damien inside his room. Snow fell gently outside the windows, and the fire popped and crackled within the large fireplace a couple of feet in front of them. She eyed the silver platter that sat on the floor on his other side. A round of bread had been sliced and lay fanned out on a plate, along with a small-lidded crock, a pot of tea, and two cups.
Damien grabbed what looked like a poker out of a vase near the fireplace, only there were three metal prongs at the end instead of a metal hook. He took one of the thick slices of bread, pressed the bread into the prongs, then held the poker near the fire.
“Are you cooking the bread?” Selene asked.
“Toasting it. On snowy mornings, my mother would invite Quinn and I into this room, and we would toast bread together.”
Selene glanced over to find Damien smiling wistfully. The smell of warm bread began to fill the room, causing her stomach to gurgle. “Sounds like a nice memory.”
“It is. And it’s a memory I wanted to share with you.”
Damien pulled the poker back a minute later. The bread was golden brown now, and crispy along the edges. He blew on it a few times before pulling the toast off. “Here,” he said, holding it out to her.
Selene took the toast with a frown. “Now what?”
Damien grinned and reached around. He picked up the small crock and the accompanying knife and lifted the lid off to reveal creamy white butter inside. “Hold out the toast.”
Selene held up the toast. Damien dipped the knife into the crock, then spread the butter across the top. The butter melted across the surface, leaving the bread glistening and golden. The smell of toasted bread and butter made her mouth water.
“All right, go ahead and eat it.”
Selene took a bite and chewed, savoring the flavors. “This is good!”
Damien laughed as he speared another slice of bread and held it near the fire. “It’s one of my favorite foods. Such a simple thing, and yet so comforting and delicious.”
Selene munched away on the bread while Damien finished toasting his own. Then they sat in amiable silence, enjoying the simple fare and sipping their tea.
“How often did your mother do this for you and your brother?” Selene asked as she wiped away the crumbs from her dress.
“Many times. We would laugh and talk and eat toasted bread together.”
A lump filled her throat. Selene leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees while she watched the flames dance across the logs. Time with her mother meant training and discourses on Ravenwood’s history and importance. She couldn’t even imagine sitting on a rug with her mother and Amara, laughing and enjoying toasted bread. The thought almost made her laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, except for the sudden tightness across her chest.
“What memories or traditions do you have with your family?” Damien asked, spearing another piece of bread.
The tightness grew. “My memories . . . are not like yours.”
“Explain.”
Selene had half a mind to ignore his request, but another part of her wanted to share. “We never laughed. And we rarely spent time together, other than for training and House Ravenwood affairs.”
“By we, you mean . . .”
“My mother and Amara. Everything we did had one goal: to further the interests of House Ravenwood. If it didn’t benefit House Ravenwood, we didn’t spend time on it. Ophie, however, is four, and so she has yet to be trained.”
“Ophie?”
“Opheliana. She is my youngest sister. She cannot speak, or at least has chosen not to. I think that’s part of the reason Mother keeps her sequestered in another part of the castle with Maura, her nursemaid.” Selene smiled softly as she gazed at the fire. “She is the sweetest little girl you will ever meet. And so kind.”
“I had no idea there were three Ravenwood daughters.”
“Most people don’t know about Ophie.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
Selene tightened her grip around her legs. “Yes.” She could hardly say the word.
“I understand the feeling.”
Selene glanced over. Yes, Damien understood the feeling all too well. The only difference was she might be able to see her sister someday. Damien would never see Quinn again, at least on this side of the veil.
“So the only memories you have of Amara and your mother are ones of training?”
Selene swallowed. “Yes.” The more she grew to know Damien’s family, the more she wished she could have experienced what he did, instead of the cold upbringing she had been forced to endure. At least Ophie was free of the weight of House Ravenwood. In some ways, her muteness was a blessing.
“You know, we have a chance to make new memories.”
Selene raised one eyebrow.
“Together, you and I. Good ones.” He glanced down at his bent knees and spread his hands across the tops. “We both carry heavy responsibilities as leaders of Great Houses, but I don’t want that to be the only thing we remember when we are old. I want there to be other memories too. I hope we laugh together, cry together, and enjoy the little things.” He motioned to the few crumbs that lay around his boots, alongside his empty teacup, and smiled.
Selene stared at him. It was as if he had offered his hand to her, inviting her to a place of warmth and sunshine. A place like his dreamscape. She bit her lip, her chest aching at his words. “I would like that.”
Damien looked up and his smile spread. Her heart fluttered strangely at the subtle shift in the way he looked at her. “Selene, may I ask you something?”
Her heart began to thud inside her chest. “Yes,” she said, grateful her voice didn’t crack.
Damien paused and leaned in. His eyes grew dark, like the sky at sunset. She could see every tiny scar, every line across his face. The firelight played along his skin, reminding her of the luminescence of his dream world. His face stirred her soul.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.
Her heart missed a beat as her mind went into a free fall. He was asking her for a kiss? Her mouth went dry as her thoughts scrambled for a foothold. “Why?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
“I mean . . . we’re already married. Most couples have already kissed and . . .” Her cheeks lit on fire.
That same gentleness spread from his mouth to his eyes. “Because I will never do anything without asking you first.”
Was he saying he would wait if she said no? But did she want to say no? Eventually, if her desire was for this marriage to flourish, she would need to say yes.
She curled her fingers beneath her palms. She wouldn’t do that to him. He had committed himself to her. She would not let fear rule her or her relationships.
Selene worked her jaw and lifted her chin. He stared back with such conviction that she felt like she could draw on that alone for strength. If there was someone with whom she could be vulnerable, could open up her innermost heart, who already knew her and still wanted to remain by her side despite her past, it was him. “Yes,” she said quietly. “You may kiss me.”
His eyes darkened further as he reached up and lightly brushed her cheek with his fingers. His touch sent tingles across her face and down her neck. Then he leaned in, slowly. She felt his breath across her lips and inhaled the earthy scent of tea.
His lips touched hers.
A torrent of feelings flooded her body, filling her with heat. His mouth lingered only for a moment before he pulled back, but it felt longer. And she wanted more. It was as if he had opened up a secret door inside her heart, one she had closed away, never letting anyone close. Until now.
“Thank you.”
Selene blinked, and Damien’s face came into focus. “What for?”
“For your kiss.” He leaned away, a grin on his face as he turned his attention back to the fireplace.
A bold spirit enveloped Selene. She smiled shyly and reached out her fingers, brushing the top of his knuckles. “I liked it.”
His head snapped around. “You did?”
She grinned back. “Yes.”
It was Damien’s turn to look as if the rug had been pulled out from beneath him as he stared at her with his mouth open. She brushed his hand again, almost laughing. It was odd, and yet thrilling, to know she could make him look as stunned as she had felt moments ago.
He leaned back toward her. “Then may I do it again?”
Selene smiled as the fire danced across the logs and snow fell outside the windows. “Yes.”