The King's Cursed Bride

A Reaper King to Kill: Part 2

Two Days Later

Carissa twisted the ring around her finger, her heart beating harder and faster as they approached their destination. Elon had been silent for the past two days of travel. She hoped this was the right decision.

She dropped her hand to her side, a wave of bitterness washing through her. She should be grateful that she could communicate with him at all. But she wanted her husband back—in the flesh. Whenever she'd awoken during the past two nights, she'd frantically searched by her side, in case what had happened was simply a freakish nightmare.

But morning light revealed the truth: Elon was gone.

She pushed her heartache aside and focused on her surroundings. The path they were traveling now was well-worn, and each footstep stirred a tiny billow of dirt. Lush trees arched over them, long swags of moss tossed over their boughs.

The man, Fidalon, dropped back beside her. "We're almost there. You've done a good job of traveling, lass."

"My husband and I traveled much when we were married."

When they were married. The words made her heart cramp, and she fixed her gaze on the ground. Some wounds were still too tender and raw, and she feared if she talked too much about Elon, she'd start crying again. She'd done enough of that within the past few days to water a garden.

Fidalon seemed to sense her change in mood and quickened his pace again until he walked in front.

Carissa took deep breaths until the urge to cry subsided. Any day now, she would die and go to Second Life. Perhaps as soon as she defeated the Reaper King.

"Carissa!" a feminine voice shouted.

Who could possibly know her here? Everyone she'd previously known in Esmeray was dead. The thought made the beat of her heart falter, and Carissa's gaze swung upward.

A young woman had emerged from a large white-washed cottage. She was racing down the steps, clutching fistfuls of her dress. Her loose brown hair flowed out behind her.

Carissa's steps fumbled as she recognized the girl:

Mera.

A tidal wave of anger crashed into her. If not for this girl, Elon would have stayed with the caravan. The caravan members would still be alive. And perhaps Elon would too.

The realization broke something inside of her, the dam that she'd been using to hold back her grief.

Mera slowed in front of her, her bright smile winking out like a snuffed candle. "Carissa?"

As Mera's expression clouded with confusion, Carissa realized Elon must not have told her about what would happen to the caravan. Or what would happen to him.

Tears flooded her eyes as the first sob burst from her.

Mera reached out to her, only to drop her hand by her side. "What–what happened? Is everything all right? Where's Elon?"

Fidalon touched Carissa's shoulder. "Let's get you inside, lass. I'm sure everything will be better with a good night's sleep."

No. Everything would be better when she had her husband back. But he wasn't coming back.

Carissa only caught sight of the front of the house. By the time she entered, tears flooded her vision, turning the house's interior and its inhabitants into indistinct blurs. She remembered walking up stairs, then laying down on a soft bed.

They left her alone with her grief.

***

Carissa bolted upright. "Elon?" She kept her gaze fastened to the wall in front of her, too scared to look to the side of the bed, to discover that Elon wasn't truly there.

But he'd been there only moments ago, telling her how much he loved her, that he would never leave her. And then he'd kissed her. She'd felt his hands and lips upon her, she could've sworn it.

But it was time to wake up and face reality. Time to pull herself together and make her husband proud.

She reached out to the other side of the bed with a trembling hand. Empty. Nothing but cold sheets and an untouched pillow. She glanced to her right, where only the shadows rested. It was just another dream.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair. They caught on snarled knots. She hadn't even bothered to wash or comb her hair before going to bed.

She rose to the window and cracked open the shutters. Nightfall. A few pairs of yellow eyes peered at her from the forest. Yare wolves. Yet they kept their distance. Why was that?

She closed the shutters, grimacing as their rusty hinges creaked. She'd sleep tonight. And tomorrow, she'd set off for the capital. Surely all she had to do was continue following the road.

The wooden floor creaked behind her. "Carissa? Are you all right?"

Mera. Carissa didn't turn. It was somewhat surprising the girl had greeted her so cheerfully, considering how she'd earlier treated her and her husband.

"I know I haven't been very pleasant to you." She laughed softly, the creaking floor announcing she drew closer. "And by that, I mean not pleasant at all."

Carissa sighed and turned. Even if the girl had been immature before, she didn't deserve Carissa's wrath. Tervalyn did. Brone did. The Reaper King did. But not Mera. "What is it Mera?"

Mera seated herself at the edge of Carissa's rumpled bed. "Would you tell me what happened? Why you aren't with the caravan? Where Elon is?"

The news would be hard for Mera to hear. It was best she phrase this tactfully. But before she could even decide upon what to speak, she heard herself say, "My husband is dead. As are the members of the caravan."

***

Author's Note: The sneak peek is in my profile bio. :)