Page 23 of Sugar Plum Fae

He drifted past fragmented scenes of her imagined reign over Whitlock—citizens bowing before her, the mayor's chains in her grasp.

As he wandered deeper into the labyrinth of her mind, he caressed the crumbling walls of her fantasies, watching them fracture. With a flick of his fingers, her dreams of victory decayed. The triumphant crowds jeering, her mayoral sash torn away. The election posters that plastered the walls of Whitlock, once emblazoned with her triumphant smile, now bore her image crossed out in red. No matter how she clawed for control, it turned to dust in her hands.

Zenaida's face twisted in rage as her dreams of ruling Whitlock collapsed around her. Roderick watched with detached amusement as she pounded her fists against the cracking walls of her sinister lair.

“I know. I’ll kill Ben Whitlock and become mayor that way.” A wicked grin formed on her face as she plotted Ben's demise.

"Good luck with that," Roderick thought, smirking as he manipulated the dreamscape once more. In an instant, Bentransformed into an invincible hero, deflecting every one of her deadly spells with ease.

"Impossible," Zenaida seethed. "Why won't you just die?"

With a snarl, she turned and stormed away, her footsteps ringing out in the emptiness. The scenery shifted, and they were in a ritual chamber, surrounded by bubbling vials and ancient tomes. Zenaida stood before a great iron cauldron, fury etched on her face as she rifled through jars of arcane ingredients.

"The mind control potions were useless," she muttered. She grabbed powders and liquids, tossing them recklessly into the brew. It hissed and steamed as she bent over it, madness glinting in her eyes. Zenaida's muttering took on a feverish tone as she stirred the cauldron, the contents swirling into a sinister purple vapor. "All they did was make people miserable and crazy. This time I will brew something stronger, something that will bring Whitlock to its knees."

A gasp from behind him caught his attention. Candace was hiding as best as she could in the corner of Zenaida’s nightmare.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hating how his heart leapt at the sight of her.

“I felt you meddling in dreams again.”

“And you came to check on me.” He turned his back on her, disappointed.

“Zenaida was behind the mind control potions.”

“No shit?” he said, deliberately pushing potion bottles off the shelves with his powers and having them break at Zenaida’s feet.

Zenaida’s cursing was imaginative and inspired. He’d have to remember a few of those.

“I'm sorry for doubting you earlier," Candace said meekly. Since meek wasn’t her style, he took his attention off Zenaida to look at his favorite sunsidhe. She did look contrite. A part of him was relieved by her apology, her faith in him restored. But another part hesitated, worried that she only believed him nowbecause she'd caught Zenaida red-handed. He wanted Candace's trust freely given, not simply acceptance of the obvious.

As he struggled inwardly, Candace drifted closer, her eyes soft. "I know you're only trying to protect Whitlock, in your own way," she said gently. "I should have trusted your intentions. But more importantly, I should have trusted my feelings. I love you.”

Roderick opened his mouth, then closed it again. The words stuck in his throat. When was the last time he had heard those words?

Candace reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The touch jolted through him.

"Will you forgive me?"

Roderick managed a jerky nod. The bloom of warmth in his chest was at once foreign and yet so very right. “I love you too.”

A screech shattered the moment. "How dare you invade my mind?" Zenaida hissed. "I'll see you both destroyed for this. Starting with your precious wishing well."

Chapter Eight

Candace

Candace sprinted toward the wishing well, her heart pounding with dread. In the distance, she could see the townspeople converging on the clearing, their movements stiff and unnatural like marionettes on tangled strings.

Zenaida's cruel laughter echoed through the forest as she drove her thralls forward. Candace had to get there first, had to protect the well at all costs. Skidding to a halt at the edge of the well's clearing, Candace raised her hands, ready to unleash the full force of her sunsidhe magic. But before she could act, the possessed townspeople surrounded the well, their pickaxes poised to strike.

"Stop!" Candace cried, her voice ringing with power.

The thralls froze, the command momentarily overriding Zenaida's control. Candace had to break the spell fast, but she couldn't risk hurting them.

Gritting her teeth, she called on her magic, weaving strands of glimmering light to dazzle and disorient. The townspeople stumbled back, shielding their eyes. Candace pressed her advantage, advancing slowly.

"You don't want to do this. Fight her influence."