'I know exactly what is running through that beautiful, frantic mind of yours right now,' Lucier mocked, smoothly pouring a fresh glass of dark vintage wine.
He walked over and casually sank into the heavy, gilded royal chair, arrogant and victorious.
He rested one booted foot heavily upon the velvet footstool and let out a dark, sinister laugh that violently grated against her ears.
'You are desperately wondering how on earth I know all your little secrets, are you not? Why do you constantly think you are so incredibly clever, Isla? I know the absolute, horrifying truth.
I know exactly who you are... and I know that you have come into this world through reincarnation.'
Isla was completely, utterly paralyzed by shock. "What? No, that is absolutely impossible..." she thought wildly, her entire world violently spinning out of control.
'I also know perfectly well that you have come to seek your pathetic revenge against me for what happened to that Queen,' Lucier continued, his voice dropping to a deadly, venomous whisper as he slowly drew his gleaming silver sword.
'But you can absolutely never, ever win against me. Now, it is finally your turn to die!'
Without a single second of hesitation, he lunged forward. He violently plunged the massive, cold blade directly into her stomach.
Hot, crimson blood instantly splattered across Lucier's twisted, victorious face as a deafening, psychotic laughter erupted from his lips...
'Isla...'
A soft, profoundly confused voice suddenly shattered the terrifying darkness.
Isla violently gasped, her brilliant blue eyes snapping wide open as she desperately sucked in a breath of air.
The horrifying ropes, the terrifying pain, the blood, the deadly sword—it was all completely, impossibly gone. She looked around in sheer, breathless shock. She was still fully dressed in her delicate bridal gown.
She was standing right in the middle of the dimly lit bedchamber. Lucier simply had his arm wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close and staring down into her wide eyes with a perfectly normal, albeit slightly confused, expression.
It had all been a hallucination. A terrifying, agonizingly vivid, and suffocating nightmare that had played out in her mind in the mere blink of an eye.
Her wildly beating heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "What on earth was that?!" she thought frantically, her entire body trembling violently in his arms.
"Why did I just have such a horrifying, hyper-realistic premonition while standing wide awake?!"
'Isla, what exactly happened to you just now?' Lucier asked softly, his brow furrowing in genuine concern.
He gently reached up, carefully brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from her pale, terrified face and tucking it neatly behind her ear.
He delicately held her trembling chin with his index finger, leaning down to press a soft, completely gentle kiss against her lips. Isla remained entirely frozen, her mind violently reeling from the jarring, sickening contrast between the bloodthirsty monster in her vision and the seemingly calm man standing before her.
'No... absolutely nothing is wrong,' she stammered breathlessly, completely disoriented and terrified.
Trying to ease the sudden, heavy tension in the room, Lucier reached over to the table and offered her a delicate crystal glass of dark red wine.
Isla instantly recoiled. Not only was her mind still violently shaken by the terrifying premonition, but the rich, intoxicating scent instantly reminded her that this specific vintage was Dorian's absolute favorite.
She completely refused to share it with Lucier. As she hastily raised her trembling hands to reject the drink, she accidentally struck the glass.
The dark, ruby liquid splashed violently forward, spilling entirely all over Lucier's pristine, expensive nightclothes.
'What the hell is that?!' Lucier shouted, jumping back in absolute fury as the dark, sticky stain rapidly spread across his chest.
'What on earth is your problem tonight?!'
Isla flinched, completely speechless.
'Forget it. Trying to have a normal conversation with you tonight is absolutely useless,' he snapped angrily, heavily annoyed by her erratic behavior.
'I am going to the washroom to clean this mess up.'
Isla slowly backed away, sinking onto the edge of the plush mattress as she desperately tried to calm her violently racing heart. She took a deep breath, trying to completely compose herself.
But just as Lucier's hand firmly grasped the brass handle of the bathroom door, a horrifying realization violently crashed into her mind like a physical blow.
"Dorian."
Dorian was still tightly bound, gagged, and completely paralyzed by her serpent magic inside that exact same dark washroom!
'No! Wait!' Isla shrieked at the absolute top of her lungs, leaping off the bed in sheer terror.
Lucier violently spun around, his hand flying off the doorknob, genuinely startled by her sudden, deafening scream. 'What?! What is it now?!'
'The... the... the rat!' Isla stammered frantically, her brilliant blue eyes completely wide with suffocating panic as she desperately grasped for the first excuse she could find.
'The... the rat might still be in there!'