Page 41 of Cursed By the Dawn

Tears burned at the edges of my vision, threatening to spill down my face. I tried to remember the exact shape of his smile, the precise sound of his laugh. But I couldn’t. He was already blurring in my memories.

I miss you. I miss you so much.

The next morning, Erebus and I immediately went to visit the dreamers’ quarters.

They were already awake and practicing their flight maneuvers, soaring around the castle and diving between the trees. Small ribbons of shadow trailed them as they flew, eagerly lapping at their feathers. The dreamers who had failed the first trial were awake, too, albeit shaken from the memories of their deaths.

My brow furrowed as I observed them.

Do they blame Erebus and me? Do they wish they had never come here?

The threads between us weren’t clear; their emotions were murky.

“The sensation of death will fade,” Erebus assured, sensing my apprehension. “It may feel visceral when it’s happening, but the resulting memory will be hazy. If I retained every memory about my five-hundred-year imprisonment, I’d be unable to even speak. The pain would be too much.”

The horrors of his imprisonment washed over me like an icy wave, reminding me of the few days and nights I’d spent locked within his castle walls. I’d survived; I’d persisted. But I didn’t know who I’d have become after five more centuries of that. I admired his resilience. Thathe could be who he was now—empathetic, passionate, merciful—spoke to the contents of his heart. Even if he sometimes reserved those qualities just for me.

“Except for the dreamers who actuallydiddie,” I noted somberly. “They didn’t even have a chance against that demon.”

The two dreamers lost to the Weavers’ “gift” had yet to return.

Their fates were unknown, but I hoped their souls had ascended. I hoped they were laughing, lounging in fluffy clouds as they basked in the Maker’s warm light. The ugly alternative—that the demon had dragged their souls to the Beyond—was too painful to dwell on.

To my surprise, their deaths made the dreamers hungry.

Hungry to learn, hungry to fight, hungry to conquer.

It reminded me of Erebus’s rage when I’d first met him; he had starved for freedom, no matter the cost.

“Yes,” hissed the voice inside my head.“Show them your power. Show them everything you can do.”

My face paled. Something about the voice was beginning to feel wrong, slithering against every instinct honed for survival. But part of me warmed at the suggestion of power. Ofmore.

The hunger whispered, soft and poisonous:“Imagine what you could become.”

My hands curled into fists. I needed to tell Erebus. He would know what to do. He’d help me cut this thing out before it took root, even if it meant staring into the most shameful parts of me. But not here. There were simply too many eyes, too many ears. If I voiced my fears, if I faltered for even a moment, our dreamers would see weakness where they expected strength. They would see a leader unfit to rise. A mortal playacting as a Weaver.

But Erebus had to know.

Hehadto.

Yet even as the decision formed, fear twisted sharp in my chest. What if Erebus doubted me? What if he looked at me as though I was something broken? Something dangerous? Uncertainty gnawed at me,whispering that even Erebus could falter, could see me differently once he knew. I swallowed hard, forcing my panic to retreat behind a mask of composure.

No.

Erebus was stronger than that. Better than that. He wouldn’t turn away. Not from this, not from me. I would tell him about the voice after the second trial, no matter the cost.

Erebus’s jaw clenched, perhaps mistaking my discomfort for sorrow. “Those dreamers may be gone, but the dreamers who remain are strong. You heard Xander yesterday—when he admitted they had far less success with their own dreamers than we do with ours. Let’s show them what we’re capable of. That we won’t let even a single dreamer perish under our leadership.”

His words struck something deep inside me, an ember flaring to life. I lifted my chin, the weight in my chest easing as it was replaced by a fierce, sudden clarity. I wanted to prove we could be more. That we could be better. That our darkness could protect instead of destroy.

Ilovedthat idea.

But more than that, I was beginning to realize that I lovedhim—the way his mind worked with ruthless clarity, the way he carved a path forward no matter how dark the road became. Where others might have faltered or doubted, Erebus stood fierce and unshakable, his will a flame I found myself drawn to again and again. He trusted in himself and in me, even when I doubted myself.

“Then we won’t,” I agreed. “Let’s show them how strong our shadows can be.”

I held his gaze a moment longer, just enough to spark something heated between us. Erebus’s expression softened, and he leaned in, making to press a kiss to my brow. But at the last minute, he hastily straightened, lips grazing my hair instead.