A Surrender Of Hope (Umbra Hunters #3)

3. Meyer

THREE

Meyer

I ’m still screaming as I jerk upright, clutching at my chest as indescribable pain races through me. I can feel my heartbeat. It’s an odd, heavy feeling as it stalls and takes way too long to beat again. I gasp and lean forward as visions of my mother float in my mind, my body helpless to anything but the slow, drawn-out pain from each throb of my heart. My mind screams at me, wanting to go back to help her, despite knowing there is nothing I can do.

Thump… thump… thump…

My heart slowly starts beating steadily, sending lightning through my limbs, making my fingers and toes light up with a painful tingle as if they were without blood flow for too long. I groan as my body heaves, and I slump forward, my arms shooting out to catch me before I face-plant onto the ground. Tears trail down my face as I desperately try to go back to that room, back to my mother. I need to help her!

“Meyer!” a voice bellows my name as the darkness finally lightens. Suddenly, I’m sitting in a large room surrounded by red brick.

“Dammit!” I yell when I realize I’m no longer in her room, my arms shaking under me as I try to slow my rapid breathing. “No.” Doubling over, I rest my overly warm forehead on the cold stones under me and close my eyes, replaying everything I just saw before I slowly sit back up. Frowning, I look around as I realize something else feels different.

My vision isn’t hazy and there’s no weird water effect, yet I’m sure I’m still in a dream. “I’m physical,” I realize as I look around, fear etching itself deep into my soul. “Shit!” Shoving to my feet, I instantly go on guard, hating that I don’t know what to do next. I hiss in pain and look down at my wrist, rubbing my finger over the bright red mark that is still there and brighter than ever. It’s hot to the touch and brightens the moment my finger touches it.

“This is bullshit.” I drop my hands to my side as I step forward, trying to figure out where I am. The empty room is long and rectangular, with a single throne lording over the far end on top of a grand dais. The elaborate chair is carved out of some black stone; the details etched into the polished material are a work of art. I take a hesitant step forward, studying the throne, and exhale as I realize it’s entirely made of onyx.

Fuck!

Frowning, I step back and turn, glancing at the other end of the room, where two open doors reside. One sits askew, hanging off its large hinges, while the other is propped open. The hall outside is pitch black, leading into the unknown, and I grimace, wondering if it’s safe to leave this room.

Red and black flags catch my attention as I look over the room I’ve appeared in; they cover the walls, their threads sparkling in the golden glow of firelight from the wall sconces nearby. My eyes widen when I see what’s embroidered on the material, and I hold my hand up, staring at the matching symbol etched into the skin on my wrist. Dread fills me, making my pained body ache even more if possible, and I take a few more steps back.

“Nope! No. I’m not dealing with whatever bullshit this is!” I shake my head, curseing as it starts to throb. “I want to wake up now!” I yell, well aware that I sound like a lunatic talking to myself, as I spin, looking around the enormous throne room. The swirl of my heavier-than-normal skirts makes me pause, and I look down at myself. My blue gown is gone, and in its place is one spun of dark burgundy silk and sparkling black tulle. The elaborate gown cinches tight at my waist and then flows around me, the skirt falling in waves to the floor. There’s so much of it that I can feel the extra weight of the heavy fabric on my body.

“That’s new,” I mutter as the click of claws on stone sounds through the air, sucking all the air from my lungs. A burst of adrenaline courses through me, racing down my spine, and cold sweat breaks out across my body. I close my eyes, feeling sick at the thrill I feel, all while knowing what’s about to show up.

“Meyer!” A voice echoes through the air, and the pain in my chest increases, making me double over and gasp as I clutch the bodice of my dress, needing the bone-aching pain to stop. The voice is faint, yet there and so fucking familiar.

“Nox?” Tears prick my eyes as I open them, a sudden burst of comfort filling me. I don't even want to think about how Lennox has somehow managed to wiggle his way into my life enough that his voice alone brings a small amount of comfort. I’ll figure that shit out later. I’m too scared to shout a reply and draw more attention to myself with Beastia nearby.

“Nox!” I whisper more urgently, looking around for him, but I’m alone. “If I’m stuck in your dreams and you're watching as I get my ass handed to me by a Beastia as a lesson, I swear I won’t hesitate to slit your throat!” I grind out, the small amount of comfort I felt bleeding to frustration. “Shouldn’t have taught me how to kill you properly,” I mutter under my breath.

A low growl rumbles through the room, and I jerk my attention from trying to find Nox to searching for anything I can use as a weapon. I’m not going to allow the damn Viking to see me panic without him.

“You are a strong woman who can handle herself,” I say to myself, eyes locking on a weird-looking shield with two swords crossed over it. They’re hanging on the wall behind the massive throne above a large mirror that makes the throne room appear as if it goes on forever. “That’ll work.” I make a mad dash for the swords, cursing the dress I’m in when I almost trip on the long skirts. A growl and then a howl fills the throne room, and I nearly throw up when I feel more than hear the Beastia come into the room behind me.

I try to steady my trembling hands as I reach up, standing on my toes to grasp one of the sword hilts and yank, then yank and tug some more when it doesn't come loose.

“Come on!” I plead, then stupidly look into the mirror in front of me, watching the reflection of not one but four enormous, spine-covered Beastia stalking through the doors. The curl of excitement inside me quickly sours as I keep yanking at the stubborn hilt of the sword hanging above. “I’m going to die with a sword in my hand because you’re such a bitch!” I whisper yell at the inanimate object, giving it one more tug, then gasp when not just the sword, but the whole damn shield with both swords come crashing off the wall and onto me. The weight is far more than I’m ready for, so it takes me to the ground with it, and I grunt when my hip hits the hard ground.

“Jesus, I’m pathetic,” I groan as growls and huffs from the Beastia fill the room. I close my eyes and lie there for a moment, trying to decide if I really want to get up and fight or just… give up. Maybe I’ll just wake up if I close my eyes long enough? At that moment, my mind decides to remind me what it felt like to have a Beastia attack me, and I take a deep breath before pushing myself back to my feet in a ball of silk and tulle. “Stupid, fucking dress!” I snarl, kicking the long skirts out of my way.

My eyes immediately fall on the four Beastia, much closer than I want them to be. Their soulless, dead eyes are locked on me as they lower their bodies slightly, heads ducked as threatening growls rumble from their throats. One of the Beastia steps closer, making another mad, and it growls, snapping at the first one’s heels, while I flinch back at the sound. Saliva drips from their jowls, their deformed heads tilting one way, then the other as they slowly close in on me.

“Damn, you guys are ugly,” I rasp, trying not to panic as I keep pulling on the sword handle I haven’t let go of yet. I step on the shield, attempting to get better leverage on the damn thing, but it’s almost like they’re welded together. “Shit!” I shout, then step back, watching the Beastia close in from the corner of my eye. I’m running out of time, and I know I’ll be toast just as the closest Beastia crouches and lunges for me.

On instinct, I jerk the shield and swords up and swing the whole thing at the attacking monster. I grin when it collides with the Beastia’s skull with a satisfying crack, making the creature snarl and jerk to the side from the blow. But the move cost me as another one springs forward, and I feel the sharp prick of claws on my side as I fall under its weight. Hot, rancid breath covers my face as I shout and try to get out from under the monster, my hands moving up to cover my face.

“No!” I scream as dark, soulless eyes dart forward, sharp black teeth bared only inches from my face, and pain races down my side. My eyes slam shut as I wait for the agony I know will come, the death I’m sure to suffer, but after a moment of silence, I crack open an eye. My breath freezes in my lungs at the sight of the monster above me. Its teeth are only an inch from my nose, and soulless eyes are no longer black… but red!

A small gasp breaks from between my lips as something shifts inside me, an odd sort of numbness washes over me as I take in my outstretched hands. Red magic sparks at the center of my palms, instantly reminding me of the young girl from my dreams, and I can’t help but admire it as I let the cold feeling coat me in a soothing numbness that instantly relieves the pain for the first time since waking up in the first dream.

I slowly tilt my head to the side, eyes finding the other three Beastia standing still a few feet away, their monstrous forms heaving with heavy breaths, their glowing red eyes locked on my hands. A dark thrill races through me, different than before, something bone-deep settles inside me, making me feel alive.

“ Go ,” I order, the same way the girl had when she commanded the Beastia outside her window. I watch as the Beastia above immediately steps back, its eyes on my outstretched hands as it takes several steps back and then turns, running from the room with the other three on its heels. I lie there for a moment before pushing myself to my feet. I vaguely feel warm liquid dripping down my side, and I remember the feeling of claws tearing into me, but I feel no pain.

Turning, I freeze when my gaze collides with my reflection in the mirror, and for the first time, I have a moment to take in my appearance. My normally dark green eyes are now red, almost matching my gown's color, but it’s the black crown of onyx nestled on top of my head that takes my breath away. It’s surrounded by my soft blonde curls pinned up off my neck and I swallow hard as I try to figure out what the hell is going on. My eyes run up and down my body, taking in the gown from the deep reds of the silk fabric glimmering under the sheer sparkling black tulle to the bodice, which is perfectly formed to my figure, curving around me like it was made for me with simple yet beautiful armor detailing on the shoulders and bust.

Reaching up a hand, my attention is solely back on the small crown on top of my head. My fingertips run over the ornate design that reminds me of a rose stem, complete with sharp thorns and tiny flowers woven into the twisted dark material. It's no more than an inch or two tall, just barely peeking out of my curls, but the soft red glow of magic pulses through the onyx and calls attention to it.

I stagger back, both fear and awe overtaking me as I stare at my odd appearance. I don't look like the girl I know myself to be. My face is smoother, my cheekbones more defined, and with the glowing eyes and crown atop my head, I feel like I’m staring back at a nightmare version of myself.

The cold, powerful feeling inside me twists, almost like a living thing in my chest as the room behind me changes in the mirror. The red walls deepen in color, while the flags and rugs brighten, and the material on the walls flutters as if there is a breeze in the room. I startle when a fire roars to life in the large mantle near the double doors, which are now shut, back on their hinges, and looking brand new.

Twin onyx chandeliers I hadn't noticed before now spark with light as the black candles ignite above my head, lighting the room that much more, showing my new appearance in painstaking detail. I roll my lips together as I stare at myself. I want to tear my eyes from the changing mirror to look at the room behind me. I want to run and never look back at myself, yet I’m frozen in place, unable to step or look away as the room shifts behind me.

After a long, drawn-out moment, the room slowly darkens despite the new addition of fire. The ground under my feet shakes as a shadow crawls over the gleaming, polished floors. Its prominent presence fills the entirety of the room, snuffing out a handful of the candles in its wake. I know what's about to happen, just like with the Beastia. I’ve seen this shadow before in a dream, and he left a mark on my wrist.

My hands shake at my sides as I look up and up at the darkness, my heart pounding, thrilling at the void in front of me. But just as fast as the void appears, it slowly lessens, swirling through the air like a winter's breeze whipping my hair around my face as the red silk of my gown flutters around my ankles.

The darkness curls in on itself, but instead of the explosion I saw before, everything stills; as though even the dust particles in the air are afraid to move. The flames on the candles freeze, refusing to flicker as a man steps out from the depths of the void. Like before on the battlefield, the male stands tall, his thick black hair coursing down his back in intricate braids. This time he’s dressed in what looks like a darker version of the clothes Valen wears when we are in a dreamscape. The elegant black and burgundy fabric clings to his enormous body as he steps into the room, fiery red eyes locked on me as if he already knew exactly where I was standing.

A feeling of rightness and excitement flows through me as I take in the man. He’s not as tall as he was in the field, and his grotesque features have softened into those of a man, except for the long pointed claws at the tips of his fingers. From where I stand, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror, I know this man is taller than any man I’ve ever seen.

Darkness swirls at his feet as he strides forward with an air of authority that I’ve only seen replicated by one man before. Once again, I look in the mirror’s reflection for Lennox, wishing he were here. A feral smile crawls across the man’s expression, exposing the long, sharp canines behind his full lips. I inhale sharply when I see a large, jagged crown of onyx resting on top of his long black hair. His crown is woven into the elaborate braids that twist around his head and fall down his back, blending in with the silky loose strand of hair already there. The style reminds me of the one Lennox wears, only much more intricate.

I tear my eyes from the crown on his head, my gaze meeting the bright red of his in the reflection. A shiver of dread races down my back as I realize the man is getting closer and I can’t move. Darkness wafts off him, making the air around me spark with fear that turns my stomach.

“I’ve been waiting for you to return, darling girl,” he rasps. With a voice like thunder, the man approaches, his steps loud and imposing as he climbs the steps to the dais. The closer he gets, the larger he becomes until I can feel the heat from his body as he stands directly behind me. The top of my head barely reaches the middle of his chest, and I can’t suppress the shiver that races through me when heavy, claw-tipped hands cover my shoulders.

“Why?” I can’t help but ask as he stares at me in the mirror. The man’s head tilts to the side as he studies me. A flicker of disapproval crosses his expression as he leans down, bringing his face next to my own.

“Because you’re the key to my freedom, child,” he whispers before the claws of his hands dig into the flesh of my shoulders, making me cry out as fiery pain erupts inside me. His claws sink deep, covering my shoulders, chest, and upper back, his hands so large that they cover the span of my shoulders. My legs shake and give out under me as red magic sparks in his hands and sinks into my skin. My mouth opens, and I try to scream, but it’s like he’s taken my ability to do anything away from me as I hang limply in his clawed hands.

I can feel his magic surge through me, wiggling into my chest and wrapping around my heart, making the organ squeeze in protest as my vision blurs. I can feel something warm fighting back, a black spark of magic I hadn’t felt before, slowly growing and attacking the red magic of the man. A war I can feel inside but can’t see. My eyes fall shut as the black magic grows, encompassing the red and making the man holding me snarl in frustration. His claws sink deep into my body, making the smallest of pained whimpers slip past my parted lips.

“Meyer!” a new voice yells, panic in his tone as footsteps rush up the stairs of the dais behind me. I open my eyes, looking into the mirror, but I only see the large man.

“Relax into the magic. Let it soothe you. It will take the pain away,” the man says, pushing more magic into me, making the black magic inside me fight even harder. I want to shake my head, to yank out of this man’s grip, but I’m paralyzed, my mind feeling foggy like I’ve drunk too much wine. Suddenly, the screams of hundreds of people fill my ears, and the vision of burning cities filters through my mind. My stomach heaves, and I can feel bile crawl up my throat at the horror playing in my mind.

“Meyer, you're bleeding!” I hear the new voice say, a deep growl echoes next to me and the feather-like touch of fingers ghosts over my skin as someone inhales deeply. “Inanis.” The word is growled like a curse before I feel more touches on my shoulders. I can see someone from the corner of my eye and frown as I look back in the mirror. There is no one here but me and the monstrous man. I groan, my head rolling forward on my shoulders, my strength rapidly diminishing as his red magic increases inside me. I reach out and cling to the black magic inside me, as feelings of protection and warmth radiate off it despite the fact it's slowly weakening.

“Keep your eyes on me, darling girl. It’s nearly over,” the man whispers almost soothingly, and like a slave to my own body, I listen, my eyes opening and reconnecting with the red gaze behind me. My back arches as the pain increases, making tears run down my cheeks.

“Shit, you have to look away from the mirror! Look away, Meyer!” the voice demands, and I blink my eyes a few times, trying but failing to do as the voice commands. “Now, dammit! Valen and Creed will break if you die, and I can’t lose them! Now I need you to woman the fuck up and break whatever connection that bastard has on you!” My head suddenly whips to the side, and a burning pain erupts on my right cheek when I break my gaze with the mirror.

My fingers ball into fists at my sides, the first type of movement I’ve been able to control since looking into the mirror, and I gasp, drawing air into my aching lungs. Oh shit! I wasn't breathing! How the hell did I not realize I wasn't breathing?

“Good! Now keep those eyes shut and fucking fight him, Meyer! I swear to the gods of your world and mine, I will not forgive you if you give in to him!” the familiar voice I can’t quite place bellows next to me. I have no issue with keeping my eyes shut. I never want to see that man again!

His red magic in me has already weakened, but I can still feel the sharp claws digging into my shoulders and heavy, hot hands wrapping around me as I try to yank myself away from him. The sound of people screaming faded until I could only hear my breaths and the slight growl of the man standing next to me.

“Say something so I know you’re actually alive here, Meyer!” the voice says, and I frown, finally figuring out who that voice belongs to.

“Jesthren?” I ask, my voice sounding weak and scratchy to my ears as I try to keep breathing. A slew of words I don’t understand suddenly comes from Jesthren as I keep my eyes shut. A cool hand touches my smarting cheek as he grunts beside me, his touch suddenly gone. “Shit. That fucking hurts. I can’t touch you without him trying to pull me into a trance. He almost got me when I slapped you! You need to fight him, Meyer. Get out of his hold.”

“I can’t,” I whisper, trying to shove the red magic from me. The mark on my wrist burns, and I groan in pain as my feet shake. My feet… Oh shit, I’m standing by myself again! That’s good, right?

“Don’t give me that crap. You somehow have all my brothers head over fucking heels for you, and that is something I never thought I would see. There is obviously something more to you, girl. Now, if you want them back, you have to fight because I can tell you they are fighting for you right now! How else would I be here after you died?”

I died!?

My eyes fly open at that remark, and I curse, making sure I’m looking at my feet and not the mirror as I nod and swallow hard.

“There… there is black magic ? —”

“Follow it!” Jesthren all but shouts into my ear. “Now!”

“But what if it’s a trap?” Fear courses through me as I try to shove the red magic away. It moves slightly, loosening from around my heart and making me sag slightly in relief.

“What does it feel like?” Jesthren asks, sounding slightly more patient than before as he tries to coach me through this. I think about it for a moment and smile despite the pain I feel in every inch of my body.

“Safe… It feels safe,” I whisper and grab hold of it, gasping when the magic doubles, then triples in strength, latching onto the bright red magic and all but eradicating it before a roar of anger fills the throne room. I scream as I feel the claws release me, leaving deep bloody wounds in their place as the mirror shatters into tiny pieces. My head snaps to the side as I watch Jesthren drop the shield and swords I used earlier to the ground, his chest heaving with barely controlled breaths as his wild green eyes find mine. He broke the mirror, completely shattered it, and helped me. I blink at the Demon Prince in surprise, unsure why I see so much relief on his face as he studies me. My head spins, and I try to step toward him, but crumble to the ground as the red magic finally fully seeps from me.

“Shit!” I feel Jesthren’s warm hand catch me just as my head is about to crash into the polished floor, and I can't stop my vision from darkening.

“Jesthren?” I manage to raise my heavy limbs, hating how they feel so cold against his warm, strong body.

“Yes? Where are you hurt? Fuck, I can’t heal anything. Dammit!” I try to open my eyes; his big hand wraps around mine, and I release a strangled sob, everything crashing into me at once, overwhelming the hell out of me.

“Thanks,” I cough out, my throat constricting with the effort to speak. “For helping me.” I want to say more, tell him how grateful I am for his help, but when I try to speak, another sob sounds, and I hiccup, my body convulsing slightly as I gasp for breath. There is a brief moment of silence, then Jesthren’s hand squeezes mine.

“You’re welcome, Meyer. Now,” he commands, sounding so much like Nox it makes my chest hurt with a tinge of longing. “Follow the magic back to safety — to Lennox. He can heal you properly, alright?” Jesthren’s deep voice soothes and I feel my hair gently pushed from my brow. His words are soft and the last thing I hear as the darkness warps around me. I feel myself falling, the air whooshing past as the dark, comforting magic lessens.

“No!” I croak out, fear paralyzing me as I feel myself fall through nothingness. Panic sets in as I search for Nox, mentally reaching for him, hot tears running down my cheeks as another sob breaks from my lips. Suddenly, the darkness melts into a blinding light, making me wince, my head throbbing as the wind settles into a frigid cold.

Shit, where am I now? I crack an eye open, hoping to find myself back at the castle, and groan when I see the snowy landscape I know so well from my dreams. I’m lying on the ground, the snow almost cradling my body as I try to sit up, hissing in pain as my body protests.

I fist the silky fabric of my dress, looking down my body, but instead of the rich burgundy fabric I had been wearing, the familiar blue is back. Oddly enough, I don’t mind the dress this time. Having something I’m used to in my dream is almost a relief. My vision darkens at the edges, the throbbing pain in my body escalating into something that has me clenching my jaw. A pained whimper escapes, and I try to take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, but it only worsens, and I close my eyes, gasping as my body starts to shake uncontrollably.

“Mi Sol.”

The soft voice of my dream man whispers through the air, and this time, I don’t try to stop the sob that wracks my body.

“Valen?”

Cursing and loud steps thunder toward me just as he falls to his knees at my side. I try to open my eyes, needing to see him, but they don’t listen. I can't stop the tears and sobs as warm, strong arms scoop me off the frozen, snowy ground and cradle me gently to a warm chest.

“I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you,” he rasps, his voice cracking as warm lips press to my forehead. “It’s time to wake up, Regina. Come back to us,” he whispers, the familiar tinge of his calm magic cording around me, soothing my nerves and tugging me further into my dream. His lips move down my cheeks, dusting kisses everywhere he can touch before they seal to my own, as the dream world splinters around us, and he guides me back to where I belong.