39. I am a being of nightmares, dreams, and magic.

Chapter 39

I am a being of nightmares, dreams, and magic.

ZENYA

"Hold On" by Sebastian Erkstrand

"Praying" by Kesha

I linger in the recesses of my mind—on the border of the thin veil.

Emotion wells up inside me as Eclipse begins to weave, drawing the essence of my tattoos from the left side of her body. I know now how I sought her with every needle I wrote upon my skin.

The ink of skulls, dead roses, and serpents thrum into the dark space between our hands—like a black and lustrous orb.

I remember the first time I entered a tattoo shop. One second I was standing on the street near the hospital after I'd healed from the nightmare in the woods. The next second it seemed I'd entered the shop.

Tears sting my throat as I consider my very first tattoo, one hidden so well, no one but myself could see it. So far up at the atlas of the spinal cord with all the roots of those sharp nerve endings. The artist needed to shave that small section of my hair that day.

Let the eclipse stay… I softly plead to my dark protector, considering the dark circle and the bright outline of pure gold surrounding it with an eight-pointed half-sun shining at its side.

A pause where I hear the skip of my heartbeat.

Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise.

I smile, overwhelmed as the warm, fuzzy feeling takes over—like cotton fluff, but my senses still tingle with the awareness of my palms moving, fingers curling to weave. Rib cages, blood drops, pills, and other grimdark and splatterpunk elements seem to pulse and flow, swirling together in a mesmerizing dance of darkness.

My heart pounds in her chest, each beat reminding me of the gravity of our unified force, the magic we all share, and how much we've overcome. We are taking the weight of my past, the pain and suffering etched into my skin, and drawing it out. We're transforming it into the very fabric of my new soul. Any sorrow I may feel from their loss and the loss of my physical body pales in comparison to the hope eclipsing me.

Hope and belonging.

Eclipse works with precision, fingers moving deftly, guiding the ink as it coalesces into the framework of our new soul—a soul I will share with all of them.

My breath hitches as I sense others approaching from the bridge at the edge of the blanket fort. I turn to take in the sight of them from Linny and Ginny, and Monroe to others I have not truly met—as if they all connected to the sensation of our rebirth. Both beautiful and terrifying. Some are in shock. Others curious.

Smiling at my alters, I stare down at my palms, and I can't help but wonder if…could I possibly…? If there was ever a perfect place for exploring my relationship with them, the Realm of Dreams is it.

So, I sink into the warm tingling feeling I once described to Ivy. Those threads of static lightning leave my fingertips…and I nearly choke on my breath when they manifest.

The more I focus on opening a window into the world through Eclipse's eyes, the more I show them her weaving the black ink into our new soul. Warmth penetrates my very heart, finding a bed there, building its own cocoon like a heated blanket fort of energy.

"The world kind of fades away for a little while…" I murmur, holding the window, so they may all watch with me.

"The energy feels soft and silky," I continue, speaking the words from my heart, mind, and the resurrection of my soul. "I feel alive and angelic."

Like I'm painting with light and emotion.

"I become part of something beautiful!" They do now, too.

This is my darkness, my scars, and secrets, now taking on a new form. My emotions escape my very blood. I might not be human from now on, but I've never felt more human.

I ease back into my being, catching the dark orb to continue the work. It's my turn.

I step forward, my hands trembling as I extend them. Powerful eyes center upon me, Gods and Goddess. But I'd swear I hear breaths in my mind—the breaths of my alters.

Light swells from my right side, adorned with stars, rainbows, unicorns, and peacock feathers—all fusing into bursts of color. Little fireworks and kaleidoscopes. Bunny rabbits, butterflies, the sun and moon, and hearts. With a deep breath, I weave my light and color. Radiant and whimsical symbols flow from my skin, merging with the dark framework Eclipse created. Our framework and substance. Hecate's flame, Morpheus's grain of sand, and Nyxion's tear are the foundation, the anchor holding us here.

Tears stream down my cheeks as the two halves crash together, the duality of my being transforming into a harmonious whole. A deep, wrenching sob escapes my lips. My body shakes with the intensity of my emotions. The tattoos now reside within the new soul. A perfect balance of light and dark.

With the new soul almost complete, I recall the special flowers that Eclipse had drawn in our journal. One last weaving. I take them, petal by petal, and craft them into the center of my soul of light, shadow, and color. They become the crown of my soul, the final touch of delicate beauty. Our own language.

Finally, I take up a needle with steady hands, my inner state calmer than ever, knowing I will never be alone. My skin, flesh, and bones are gone.

I am a being of nightmares, dreams, and magic.

No hesitations. I pierce the new soul right into my chest and bind it into my heart, each stitch a promise, a vow to protect and nurture my dream weaver's soul—and everyone with it. My heart accepts the new soul. My hands shake slightly as I stitch it safe there, knowing the orb will encompass me, the windows of my eyes offering a glimpse into its shadow, light, and color.

As I finish the final stitch, Hecate appears.

I smile as she joins our hands—Nyxion's skeletal hand, Morpheus's shadowy one, and her flaming hand. She fuses a brand new tattoo upon my palm—a symbol of our unity and power: a hyoid bone, shadows and glittery sand, and a curling flamed torch.

New power courses through me, the new soul beating within me. Triumph and tenderness beat with my heart, my body trembling with the intensity of my emotions.

Before the skeletal hand may retreat from mine, I seize it. Nyxion stops, those black diamond eyes within his skull more beautiful than ever. He stands with all his silent darkness, voiceless. But I feel every fracture of his existence, knowing he filled the cracks with his love for me.

And with my rebirthed power, I weave, drawing upon my newfound strength. He lowers his jaw, parted teeth betraying his awe as the hyoid bone takes shape, intricate and perfect, infused with my reborn essence.

Weaving the final strand, I gently embed the new hyoid bone into Nyxion's throat.

For a moment, there is silence, and then he cups one side of my face and speaks, "My little killer."

My chest nearly caves in at his familiar voice—so deep and resonant, it echoes through Hecate's throne room. His eyes meet mine, gratitude and something deeper reflected in their depths.

With tears running down my cheeks, I reach out and touch his face. He touches me, collecting my tears of joy and magic, memorizing their language as my trembling fingers trace the lines of his jaw.

Morpheus and Hecate observe from nearby, not interfering, letting us have our moment.

Nyxion sweeps me off my feet and brings his mouth down on mine. The mouth of his god form. Full, seductive lips part mine while the stubble from his chiseled jaw chafes my cheek as he angles his neck to deepen the kiss.

I wrap my arms around his strong pillar of a neck, digging my fingers into his long curls like black silk. I don't even care if I get bone dust all over my white gown.

He parts from my lips for a moment, setting me down, so I may take in the breathtaking sight of him. His rich brown skin glows with an inner light like polished mahogany. The slabbed muscles, carven from beautiful Chaos, have no flaw. His deeply hooded eyes, so intense, smolder with their black diamonds, their depth, and mystery nearly hypnotizing me.

I've learned many of his secrets, but I know more will unfold.

"How?" I whisper, almost afraid he will disappear.

He kisses my palm, the ink scrawled upon it. "We have a new bond. It grants me form and life I may change at will as I never have."

"But you can still change into the lich I love, right?" I hold my breath.

He chuckles darkly and brushes skeletal fingers along my cheek. "Does that answer your question, Zenya Alice Myre?"

"Zenya Alice Morpheonyx." I smile mischievously.

He lifts one brow as Hecate and Morpheus approach from behind me. "Did she just?—"

"She did," Nyxion says. "Gods, this woman!"

Phantasos approaches me from the side, his steps slow, his shoulders drooping. My heart clenches for him and our shared loss of Ivy. A bittersweet loss when we know where she is, but the pain still lingers. I turn to him, and just as he opens his mouth, I wrap my arms around his neck and murmur in his ear, "Yes, you can adopt me, Phantasos."

"Darling Zenya." He tightens his hold, and when he lets go, I show him the trinket I wove during our hug. He parts his lips, and I'd swear a few tears glisten in his eyes at the charm bracelet with a lollipop, a cloud, a cake, and a puppy. In the center is a charm of the three-peak of mountains, his favorite tattoo.

"Would you like to see her?" Hecate interrupts our embrace, and we rush to nod.

The Goddess of Magic spins an orb the size of a large mirror, granting us the gift of seeing Ivy sitting in bed. Nurses have removed the intubation tube. Her older brothers and sisters have gathered around her to give her hugs. Those blue eyes sparkle with the same life she showed in our Dreamworld. I don't know how long she was comatose, but she reaches for her mom and dad and parts her lips to say hoarsely, "Can we get a puppy?"

I cry with her parents as they kiss their daughter.

Phantasos touches my hand and stares at me with proud tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Zenya darling."

When familiar shadows twist and curl around me, I turn to Morpheus, this beautifully sculpted dark angel of a god.

"Little wonder." He shakes his head with a disbelieving, airy laugh.

I don't get a chance to smile before he coils a strong hand around my neck and brings my mouth to his. I will never stop wanting him, all of them. His open robe displays rippling muscles and gold-harvest moon skin. His black feathered wings curve around me, beckoning me deeper into his world of shadows and dreams.

At the touch of familiar, possessive fingers digging into my waist from beyond his brother's wings, unraveling my corset strings, I gasp into Morpheus's mouth. I kiss the God of Dreams harder until he parts from me and turns me around to face his brother. A blush swells in my cheeks.

Cupping my chin and tilting it up, Nyxion hovers his breath above my lips and purrs, "Are you ready for the Gods of Dreams and Nightmares to take you as one, Zenya?"

"Not here," Hecate interrupts, causing me to blink. Her torches flare to life, burning brighter. "You must go to the barrier. The three of you. Go," the Goddess of Magic commands. "Now!"

We don't argue with the embodiment of Crossroads. Nyxion gathers me into his arms, and we shadow-travel to the great dark canyon shrouded in mist dividing the Realms.

I cling to Morpheus as he beats his wings against the air, slowing until we land upon a high mountaintop on the edge of the canyon. It's nightfall…or what passes as nightfall in the Realm of Dreams with a great glowing sphere of a full moon casting a lunar light upon the landscape. A fine mist shrouds the air, but the forest of winter trees with ice-coated naked branches allures me the most.

Morpheus merely smirks as he lowers me to the ground and nods to Nyxion on our other side, "The same night she wove the forest of bones and teeth, she also created this winter forest. I like to call it the Silver Woods."

I tip my head back with a laugh. "Really? You couldn't think of anything better?"

Morpheus lifts a brow, and Nyxion exchanges a look with him, a playful, brotherly expression as Morpheus snickers. My nerve endings tighten with suspicion.

Ruffling his wings and stroking his chin, Morpheus replies, "I figured it would make your inevitable regret a bit more thrilling…and chilling."

"My regret?" I scrunch my brows, confused. I look to Nyxion, but he shifts into his lich form, betraying nothing in his expression but his black eyes. They've turned more predatory and possessive.

Grinning playfully, Morpheus curls his palm in the air and twists his shadows around his wrist and fingers. "You'll be too busy screaming to think about the name, little wonder."

I shiver for more than one reason as I dart my eyes between them.

"Last time, I was not given a proper hunt, Zenya." Morpheus leans closer to trace a finger down my cheek.

My breath leaves in ghostly puffs, and I glance down at my white gown and the goosebumps sprouting on my skin. "If I'm a new soul born in dreams, magic, and nightmares, why do I feel so cold?"

Nyxion hems me in from behind, his breath tingling my spine. "You wove your new soul with your greatest and rawest expression of your humanity. Your new soul will always carry that identity with all its beautiful senses and emotions."

"Beautiful and delicious," Morpheus summons my attention, and I turn to find him licking his lips as the shadows swell all around him.

A hint of fear pulses through me. "But I won't die of frostbite, right?"

"No. But you may weave a coat or whatever you wish to make yourself more comfortable," Morpheus opts, his voice deepening with anticipation. "It will be quite entertaining when the time comes to rip it off."

"Indeed," agrees Nyxion.

"Now, my little wonder,"—Morpheus slowly turns me toward the woods—, "Are you ready for the Gods of Dreams and Nightmares to hunt you?"

I weave the fur coat as he'd said. Once I'm deeper into the woods, I will add leggings, thermal underwear, socks, and more layers. Christmas has come early, and I fully intend for them to work at unwrapping me like the shiny, new soul I am.

At first, I slowly embark into the Silver Woods, determined to come up with a better name later.

As I approach the treeline, I turn briefly to find Nyxion and Morpheus colluding, talking in too low tones.

They're up to something—beyond just this hunt.

The cold bites into my skin, the frost pricking my nose. My breath forms clouds in the air, mirroring the pristine white of my fur coat. I've stepped into a winter wonderland. The expanse of frosted branches sparkles like precious gems under the moonlight…everything mesmerizes me.

My fur coat stands out starkly against the dark tree silhouettes of the trees, and I imagine it's a beacon heralding my presence to the daemons hunting me. By now, I've woven my other clothing pieces.

I touch one branch, gilded in frost and glistening like polished glass under the pale moonlight. Even with the solid black ankle boots, my steps feel lighter, more delicate as they crunch on the snow-covered ground, echoing through the silent forest. No more than an inch of snow, but everything looks untrod—as if I am the first presence to grace these woods.

When the tree branches crack in the wind, I startle, flicking my head every way. Distant laughter echoes through the air, laughter belonging to Morpheus.

A cold thrill races up my spine, and I launch into a run.

The crystalline branches reach out like skeletal fingers, tearing at my hair and clawing at my coat as I go deeper until the moon is but thin, splintered light cutting through the canopy. Fur needles shimmer with frost, magically catching the light—as if the woods are alive. My fur coat flutters behind me.

Another laugh, deeper, closer, with a nightmarish edge signals that Nyxion is closer. I run, heart ricocheting, breath panting as I sense my pursuers getting closer, herding me like prey. All my extra layers seem to weigh me down, and I want to take them off. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck.

Keep going, Zenya, Eclipse urges me. I know the perfect place for you.

I don't ask Eclipse how she can know these woods when I've never been here, but I've learned not to second guess my guardian angel.

Mist swirls around my feet, moving like spirits whispering in soprano tones. The ethereal voices seem to follow me, lured by the humanity of my soul as Nyxion had said.

The whispers grow louder, the mist thicker. It feels like the woods are leading me somewhere, calling to me. Silvered branches seem to part, creating a path that winds and twists, always just out of reach of my pursuers.

I stumble, catching myself against a tree, the bark cold beneath my fingertips. Ragged gasps escape my lungs, burning on their way out.

I sense Nyxion's presence on my right, the rattling of bones with a silhouette in my left peripheral vision—Morpheus with his shadows. They are closing in. Determination grips my heart, tightening my spine.

Through the gap in the trees just ahead of you, fall down, then slide!

I don't hesitate. I sprint forward, my white fur coat billowing behind me until I plunge through the opening of the trees. Without a second thought, I throw myself down, letting gravity take hold.

An icy slope catches me, and I slide, thrilled by the cold wind tearing through my hair. The smooth, glassy surface sends me speeding down the high hill as I shout and laugh the whole way.

The hill seems endless, a pure sheet of ice glistening under the moonlight. My laughter echoes through the night as I slide faster and faster, the adrenaline surging through my veins and heating my blood.

Finally, the slope levels out, and I gasp at the breathtaking sight before me. The wintry trees form a cathedral-like canopy above me, their branches interwoven as if in prayer. Frost flowers and soft, snow-like moss blankets the ground, creating a serene, magical carpet beneath me.

To my right, a frozen waterfall cascades into a small, icy pool, its surface shimmering like glass. The entire grove glows with an ethereal light, leaving me awestruck.

I pause, lying here to catch my breath, my heart still thumping in my ears. The grove is like a sanctuary, a hidden gem in the enchanted woods, and a deep sense of wonder and enchantment washes over me.

Suddenly, I feel a shift. The mist thickens, twisting through the grove, almost tangible now, and the whispers chant a haunting melody that seems to seep into my very bones. Fairy lights flicker in the air, the frost-flowers glow with a transcendent light.

A dark silhouette moves through the trees at an alarming rate, targeting me head-on. Black diamond eyes lock onto mine with a predatory intensity.

Breath quaking, I get up and start to run but crash right into the arms of a dark shadow—one who swallows the light around him and surrounds me with a haven of lustrous, black feathers.

"Caught you, little wonder," Morpheus purrs in my ear, his body like a cage I won't escape.

His face manifests from the shadows. Liquid heat fills me as I take in his beauty, the bronze skin of his muscular chest, the column of his neck, corded with muscle. And those wild dark curls falling down his cheeks and curling beneath his ears. His chiseled jaw nuzzles my cheek, the barest hint of stubble brushing.

I breathe in his scent. Lavender and ancient incense, nocturnal flowers, and warm amber.

For once, Morpheus does not seem playful or mischievous. He still bears the aura of confidence and charisma, but there is more power tonight. More possession and control.

His gaze hardens, dominance staking a claim to my soul. "You're ours now," he says, his voice a dark, velvet caress that shivers down my spine.

The pull of his shadow power is undeniable. Their allure and magnetism is irresistible.

Morpheus unfurls his wings, permitting Nyxion to close in on me from behind. "Well played, brother," Nyxion says.

Did Nyxion pay Morpheus a genuine compliment? For the first time?

The hands of the God of Dreams strengthen around my waist. "I have won the first marking rights."

I part my lips and widen my eyes. "The what?"