Royale (Book #1 Royale Series) {Under Revision}

Chapter Sixteen {Revised}

Juliana

Feet.

Perfect, dainty, feet covered in gleaming anklets fly across the opulent marble floor. Small, blue veins peak from underneath perfect, golden skin indicating the long night of dancing that has transpired. But no one is tired. Smiles are white and their shine is comparable to that of the brightest stars on the darkest nights. No one seems to have a care in the world. No one has any idea what is coming.

Suddenly...

Screams.

Screams begin to drown out the melodies echoing through the hall. Multiple cries and shrill voices pile on top of one another, each more earth-shattering than the last. The feet that were dancing the night away only moments ago are now running for their lives.

Blood.

Blood drowns the floor. Bright red pools of death permanently staining the ballroom floors—forever marking the location of what is quickly about to turn into a massacre.

I stand there in the midst of it all, frozen, rooted to the ground. My own shock might prove to be a greater enemy than the attackers themselves.

And then a startling realization hits me. It isn't my feet at all that prevent me from moving, but rather some unidentifiable force. I fight with my legs. I push and pull at the fabric of my dress, but I'm stuck in one position.

It is at this moment that a black figure with blood red eyes comes hurtling towards me. I'm desperate now, clawing at my own legs until blood drips down my legs. I open my mouth to scream, but the sound gets lost as if it's being held a prisoner in my throat with no way out.

A fire catches in the distance. I'm too blinded by the light of the flames and the heat cloaking my skin as it inches nearer and nearer, hotter and hotter until the sweat is pouring down my back and fear has me in its tight, unrelenting grip.

The fire reaches the folds of my gown and my mouth begs to choke out a scream, but I am altogether mute, immobile, and helpless. The fire scorches and singes on one end, and the red-eyed figure progresses towards me at lightning speed on the other and all I want is to collapse in blinding, all-consuming, agonizing pain.

Faintly, a voice is calling out to me, but it's too far and I know somewhere in my heart of hearts that it cannot reach me. Nothing can save me.

~*~

"Jules!" I can faintly hear the sound of a voice as smooth as velvet calling out my name, but I can't seem to bring my eyes to open. I'm so frightened that I'll be met with those same insane, red eyes again and I'm not entirely sure my heart can handle it. "Juliana! Wake up!" the voice says, more forceful now.

I blink my eyes open, but I'm cautious. But the eyes I am greeted with are the very opposite of the evil ones from my nightmare. Not red. Aspen's silver-blue eyes stare into my own and I let the comfort they bring wash over me like a wave. There is no fire. No blood. Only Aspen's handsome features scrunched up in worry.

I sit up on the couch that I've adopted as my sleeping space. It has been two weeks since Aspen's surgery, but I still insist that he sleep on the bed given the extent of the injuries he sustained at the Christmas Ball.

Although the truth is, Aspen's wound has healed impeccably well, according to his doctors. By some miracle, he had been impaled so meticulously that the weapon didn't touch any of his organs. I, on the other hand, am still struggling with the attack. Nightmares have been plaguing me almost every night since the attack, and it is always the same one. I am frozen in place as fire and rebels surround me while I'm left helpless, unable to move or scream.