4. Florencia

4

Florencia

I wasn't wearing my tattered dress anymore but a beautiful white gown instead. Embroidered details covered the bodice as the skirt cascaded loosely down my legs. My hair was washed and braided, red flowers tucked into the creases and tossed over my shoulder. I was clean somehow.

He was tall, with feathered wings like an angel and piercing blue eyes. I knew who the man was—they were twins, nearly identical aside from the scars that destroyed his brother's face. I could see now just how much it changed their appearance.

He approached, the blinding bright of nothingness around us forcing me to squint as he crouched, a pearly perfect smile gracing his face.

"Florencia."

His accent mirrored his twin's, but his voice was smoother, warmer, more welcoming. Like a fur coat in a winter storm, I ached to feel his heat comfort me in the cold of this white void.

I couldn't help but shiver. "Where am I?"

His voice was nearly a song as he tipped his head to the side and answered, "A dream."

"A dream inside a nightmare?" My teeth were chattering, each second that passed in the white abyss feeling like slowly freezing to death.

He shook snow off his shoulders and stood, offering me a hand. Without hesitation, I took it, feeling the smoothness of his warm palm against my already chilled skin.

"A nightmare is someone's fears."

"Yes, everyone has bad dreams," I said with annoyance, trying not to roll my eyes to what seemed obvious.

"No, my queen." He gave the nickname as if he'd said it many times before. "A nightmare doesn't need to be bad. It just needs someone to fear it."

I snorted. "If this is your way of saying I could have it worse, I hate to tell you, but he left me in a cell."

He curved his full lips in a smile. "Zotz does a lot of things for shock value."

This was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen—strong shoulders exuding power and a spine so upright, it made him look even taller than he somehow already was. It was like a fantasy turned into reality, like he wasn't fully real, the complete opposite of his brother who was so painfully real, even when I didn't want to believe it.

"I'm rescuing you," he promised as we started walking together.

"Now?" I looked around, sure I wasn't awake.

"Not yet." That was all he gave me.

With an inhale and a forward step, I moved on. "His name is Zotz?"

"Camazotz, god of nightmares." He nodded.

"And you are?" I pressed.

His face showed a tinge of annoyance. "Everything but."

The words came out on a breath. "You're Dream."

"I am Elio. I am the light," he corrected.

I looked around, but there was nothing to see, everything blurred beyond the scope of our bubble. I forced my eyes to go back at him, even if he unsettled me in a way I couldn't fully understand.

But I had things I needed to know. "He said I was your bride."

"The thing about Zotz is that he doesn't need to lie." He curiously tilted his head. "Truths are ugly, frightful, fearsome things."

He wasn't making sense. "And dreams?"

"They're the light, the good. You are part of that. My queen, my wife," he explained, as If I should have already known.

I shook my head, my scoff unapologetic. "I don't remember a proposal."

Suddenly, he turned toward me, holding my face captive in his hands, demanding all my attention. His breath was hot, sweet, disarming as he spoke. "A long time ago—"

"Haxiiiiia." The hiss was enough to break through the frozen layer of consciousness that divided me from reality.

Camazotz.

I blinked my eyes open, freeing myself from the sluggish chains of the dream that kept me just in time to see the claw marks on his face. He was far too close for comfort, but as I blinked once more, he was there, on the other side of the bars. A frustrated grunt escaped my lips, a smirk carving through his face while he played with a small knife in his hands.

With his brother's image still seared into my mind, I could see their differences a bit more clearly, polar opposites of each other. Elio's wings were down, securely folded against his back, while Zotz's were kept open in a dramatic fashion, making him appear much bigger.

Elio's glow was warm, inviting, somewhat comforting, even if slightly disorienting. Camazotz was chaos, cold, like losing yourself in the grandness of space with nothing to pull you back.

I lowered my eyes to his neck, where a cord dangled, something that looked like a key tucked away.

My way out of here?

There was a manic smile on his lips, a cruel gaze etched into his face as he toyed with the blade.

He was trying to scare me.

On a greener witch? Sure, maybe it would have worked. But for a seasoned bruja whose bloodline could be traced so far back, even deities knew the name Morales? There was possibly nothing less scary than realizing it was an act.

Arching an eyebrow and coming to stand, I challenged him with a single word. "What?"

"Come have dinner with me. I'm bored." He turned his back to me.

"Are you going to make me the dinner?" I noticed tiny drops of blood still coating the edge of the blade.

He turned back to face me, nothing but amusement on his face as his smile got bigger. "Maybe."

With a jerk of his head, his faceless guards opened the cell and stepped aside for me to walk through.

Comfortable resigning to my fate until this dream ended, I played along. "What are we having?"

He hummed but didn't reply. Camazotz must find me entertaining, because instead of letting his goons drag me, he walked away, expecting me to follow. Rather inclined to keep my freedom and my feet on the ground, I stayed only a few paces behind, feeling less overwhelmed and making better sense of his castle.

The ground and the walls continued their dance. If I stared too long, I could feel my stomach churning, ready to spill my guts. It was unsettling.

"Why does everything move?"

"Nightmares are always changing." He flicked his hands at the walls.

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it immediately, not sure what to say. As if he could read my mind, as if he could feel my hesitation, he gave me what I needed.

"Humans go to bed, have terrible nightmares, and it's all manifested here. But they are always changing, evolving, growing, even when the general fear stays the same."

I stopped following him once we reached a huge arched window with stained glass casting a kaleidoscope of shadows across us. I stepped in its way, my fingers touching the glass, feeling the vibration through my whole body. It was like touching a torrent, even though I could see it was solid.

A river of images danced in front of my eyes, the display nothing short of breathtaking.

"It's gorgeous." My mouth betrayed me before my brain could catch up.

A haunting silence followed my praise, an odd sensation, something like fear, enveloping me, but not my own. As I looked to my side, I caught him a few steps away, an odd expression on his face as his wings lowered until they were tucked behind his back.

We stood paralyzed in a stare-off, not speaking for what felt like an uncomfortable, everlasting moment until Camazotz came to himself. Clearing his throat, he narrowed his eyes. "Don't wander off."

My eyes rolled again on instinct. He was too theatrical. I grew up with my grandmother saying we were—

"Halloween!" I stopped in my tracks, bringing my hand straight to my mouth.

Camazotz turned slowly, his expression uninterested. "What now?"

"It was Halloween, the last thing I remember. I was with my sisters and Marnie, my youngest sister, she said something really bad. She said…"

Oh shit.

My eyes narrowed to slits.

"Tell me." It wasn't a hiss, but a growl this time, all boredom gone from his tone.

I turned up my nose. "No. I'm already your prisoner; I don't owe you my secrets. Do I?"

He hummed, like he wasn't angry I refused compliance. "Playing nice may get you some favors."

I snorted. "We both know that's a lie. Where's dinner?" I pushed past him in an attempt to intimidate him, but in typical Flo fashion, I failed. He was too large, his wings spread open once more, reacting to my words. I aimed to hit his shoulder with mine, but instead, I was clipped by one of the sharp bones protruding from his wings.

Whimpering in silent pain but refusing to show it, I stepped forward, pretending it was intentional. Moving to ignore my embarrassment, though unsure of where we were heading, I went on until another sigh from Zotz forced me to slow and let him take the lead once again.

Whether he wanted to pry or not, he assumed defeat and didn't push. Great. I wasn't telling him shit. What I remembered wasn't good for me, and I remembered it very clearly now.

It was All Hallow's Eve before this dream.

This nightmare.

My sisters and I were getting dressed for the festivities. When we were all together, my little sister, Marnie, started getting all weird and saying she had seen it all before.

We were seven sisters, each with a unique power. Elisa–the head of our coven–was the most powerful and protective. Then there was Lucia with her blessed tongue, everything out of her mouth became reality. Elena was gifted with the sight of the future and Emilia the past. Pilar saw the dead, and Marnie… Marnie was cursed with the worst power of them all.

She could predict your soulmate.

And sure, if we had been normal girls, that would have been okay, maybe even exciting. But we were witches, cursed ones, who grew up with our grandmother filling our heads with stories about how love was no good for our type.

No Morales ever had a good husband.

So when Marnie told us on Hallows Eve that we would be meeting our soulmates that night? Horrifying. Not a single one of us had a desire for a husband or to be wed. Too much work, no reward, and a high chance of death, as history proved.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember anything before or after Marnie. It was as if I fell asleep and woke up watching that war. So was Elio my soulmate?

I didn't necessarily want one, but I never thought about having a god for a soulmate. It was better than having a human, right? People were very breakable.

It wasn't the worst thing in the world to be promised to a 7-foot-tall god with angel wings, bright blue eyes, and thick hair.

There were worse fates.

"A detour first." The Nightmare King's words interrupted my flow of thoughts, that wicked smile of his flashing sharp white teeth.