Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,13

be told just the same.”

My brain ached from trying to figure out his riddles and comments.

“I think you are going to bring much madness to Winterland.”

“Winterland? Is that where I am? Is it in Connecticut?” I’d never heard of it, which didn’t mean anything.

“Oh, my dear Ms. Dinah. You are a long journey from there.”

Awareness kicked in, terror seeping down my spine. “How do you know my name?”

“Children’s minds are pure of adult weaknesses, letting love and belief into their heart before they close it off…but here you are again. Following your family’s footsteps.”

I took a few steps back. What was he talking about? Did he know my family?

“Oh, I see sanity knocking.” He shook his head. “Too bad. You’re much more fun when you’ve lost all your marbles.”

“Will you two shut your snowballs? Trying to sleep here,” an old, dried-up voice boomed, making me jump back as limbs from the tree behind Frosty started to move, drawing my attention up the trunk of an enormous noble fir. My mouth parted, and I almost peed myself.

Two huge golden eyes blinked open, a vast hole smacking like lips, the wooden gaze coming down on me. “Oh, it’s you.”

“What is all the racket? It’s the middle of the night.” Another crackled voice groaned near me, the branches creaking and moving.

Fright descended deep in my gut as I took off running, howling into the night. My mind emptied of thought, terror filling it. Acting purely on instinct, I sprinted away, not having any idea where I was going.

“Don’t go that way.” Wind snapped in my ears. “Certain death. Turn around! It’s a trap!”

A guttural noise heaved from my throat, and I ran faster, leaping over a log. My foot hooked on a broken branch, pitching me forward with a cry. I flung out my arms to break my fall, but instead of the ground before me, all I could see was a deep, dark hole.

And I plummeted.

Down into pure darkness.

“We told you…” the wind sang in a taunt before everything went black... again.

Chapter 5

I jolted awake, my limbs flinging out as I sat up, gasping for air. My hands dug into the white comforter, rays of sun pooling across the bed from the window. Sounds of the shower running came from the bathroom, and Scott was singing—badly.

Home. Safe. It was all a dream.

I let out a deep exhale, my shoulders sagging in relief, though I still peered around the small bedroom in search of anything to suggest it really happened. Everything was in place. Everything where it should be.

“A dream. Just a dream,” I muttered to myself, shaking off the eerie feeling still coating me. I pushed off the blanket, my toes lowering to the dingy carpet.

My airways stuttered as I looked down at my feet. On the top of my right foot, a red scrape crossed over it, exactly the place my foot caught on the branch in my dream.

Slowly, I reached down, sliding my thumb over the torn skin, my nerves flinching at the contact. When I was a child, I would sometimes sleepwalk, Mom finding me in the morning in odd places, but I grew out of it. Now along with the childhood dreams, had sleepwalking returned as well? It was the only explanation for my injury. While dreaming that crazy tale, I must have really tripped over something.

“Morning, babe.” Scott strolled into the bedroom, a towel around his waist, his skin so pale it was almost blinding. Familiar. Comfortable. Safe. He made me feel grounded.

Scott leaned over the bed, kissing me. “You slept in.”

“What time is it?” I glanced back at my clock, telling me it was past ten. I never slept in. I was usually up at six, going for a run.

“Tried to rouse you, get a little action before work, but you were dead to the world.” Scott strolled over to the dresser, seemingly neutral to not having sex. He grabbed a pair of boxers and clothes for work. We both worked as much as we could and didn’t have many weekends together, trying to save money. We planned to get married at twenty-three and buy a house.

Irritation shifted me on the bed from the blasé attitude we both had about sex lately. It seemed it was more something we did because it’s what couples were supposed to do than actually desiring each other. Scott and I were never the types who couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I mean, we touched all the time, but