Shimmering Chaos (Enchanted Chaos 2)

“I have a feeling that’s a lie,” I mumble, but climb onto the other side of the bed.

He pivots onto his side, propping up onto his elbow and resting his chin against his hand. “You seem nervous,” he remarks.

I make a big show of rolling my eyes. “Why would I be nervous?”

“I have no idea,” he says with surprising seriousness. “You know, most of the stuff I say is just me messing around, right?”

With a yawn, I pull a blanket over me then stare up at the ceiling, feeling a light buzzing sensation just underneath my skin. I find it strange but relaxing, along with the faint scent of rain lingering in the air. Is it coming from him? “Yeah, why?”

“I just want to make sure you don’t think I’m being serious when I tease y

ou. I rarely am serious.”

I tilt my head toward him. “Why is that?”

“Why is what?” He acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but I think he does.

“Why do you joke around all the time?”

“Why does anyone joke around all the time?”

“Aw, the old answering a question with a question. Usually that means someone’s hiding something.”

He dismisses me with a flick of his wrist. “Nah, I’m the most straightforward creature you’ll ever meet. I say whatever’s on my mind whenever I want.”

For the faintest instant, worry tiptoes through my veins. Worry that doesn’t belong to me. Is it the link doing it? Who feels worried? Easton?

“We should get some sleep,” he says, purposefully ending the conversation as he rolls onto his back and shuts his eyes. “It’s fucking exhausting keeping an eye on you, lightning eyes.” Hilarity rings in his tone.

“You’re equally as exhausting,” I quip, rolling onto my side.

He stays quiet, pretending to go to sleep. And yes, I know for a fact he’s pretending. I have no damn clue how. Only that I do. Maybe I would’ve asked him if tiredness hadn’t grabbed me by the hand and yanked me into dreamland.

I dream of being in a lightning bolt again, of wearing a crown on my head, only this time I’m alone.

“You’re the only one who can save them,” the lightning whispers to me. “Find the others and save them.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper to the lightning. “Save who? And find who?”

“You’ll know what to do when the time is right.” The lightning crackles around me. “You’re the strongest one.”

“Strongest one of what?” I ask, diving farther into the lightning.

When I get no response, I feel as though my chest is going to tear apart, as if something has been stolen from me.

“Come back, please,” I whisper, tears spilling from my eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

The only response I get is silence.

“Don’t leave me,” I sputter as my eyelids spring open and I bolt upright.

Warm hands touch my shoulders. “Easy, Sky,” Foster says as he sits up in the bed beside me. “Take a deep breath.”

I obey, breathing in and out until my nerves have settled down.

The sun is rising just outside and faint soft orange-pink light filters in through the window, cascading across Foster’s face and the concern pouring from his lightning blue eyes.

“When did you climb into my bed?” I ask. “Where’s Easton?”