He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Nodded.
She took another measured step, heels clicking softly on the snowy road. “Would you say it’s been that way for a while?”
“Yeah.”
“Has it gotten stronger?”
An invisible hand wrapped around his lung and squeezed. “Yes.”
“And does it stop when she’s not around?”
“No,” he admitted, trying to calm his thundering heart. How did she know? He barely did. “It’s worse when she’s gone.”
Amelia tilted her head, gave him a look that saidyou know exactly what this is,but asked, “Tell me what you feel when she’s in your arms.”
He didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t.
Amelia stopped pacing. “Hunter?”
He blew out a breath. “Like my existence finally makes sense.”
A soft hum of approval came from Amelia’s throat. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Dorian clicked his tongue, pushed off the hood of the car he was leaning on, and crossed the short distance to him, coat flaring just slightly with each stride. “You feel her pain, feel every pulse of her heart like your own, and you’re still standing here, dithering? You’re orbiting, Hunter. Pick a bloody direction. The only smart one.”
Every pulse of her heart like his own.
How he felt her inside of him, that odd extra conscience he’d chalked up to all the time they’d spent together.
Fuck.
Oh, fuck.
“Behold, the penny hath dropped,” Dorian said with something very close to sympathy. “Your edges are blurring, mate.”
Hunter dropped onto the cold, wet concrete, his jeans soaking in snow and his mind blank. “She’s my mate,” he murmured. “Mine.” And in a snap, a few pieces of the puzzle dropped in place. “It’s why I was in her dreams, in her memory. Not as a Devil. As her mate.”
“You are linked in the most essential way. You were there to help her, protect her. You were there because she needed you, even though she had no idea who or what you were,” Dorian told him with a soft gentleness that was so unlike him it was scary. “Go back to her. Because without her, there’s nothing of worth left of you.” He walked to Amelia, took her hand to drop a soft kiss on her gloved fingers. “We’ve worn a thousand masks,” he murmured. “And the only one that ever fit is the one they carve out of us.” Then, with a quirk of his hand, “I’ll try to understand what is happening to the Dreamverse, and in the meantime, don’t cock it up. This is nothing like we’ve ever faced.”
He opened the car door for Amelia, let her in, strode to his side, and drove away.
Hunter didn’t know how long he remained there. It had started snowing at some point, and a layer of it had piled on him, so it must have been a while.
He was nothing but fog and fear. Sentient vapor with one reason to exist. His heart, the figurative one because, technically, he didn’t even have one, had never been involved in whatever he’d done. Only fun and carelessly enjoying the world.
He’d never had anything his own.
Had never wanted anything to be his.
Until now.
Until she made blossom this thing inside of him. It was beautiful and humbling–which was a hell of an inconvenience. He wasn’t used to being humble, or patient, or terrified in a way that didn’t end in laughter and a clever escape.
But here he was.
His body was stiff and cold, his hair and clothes drenched in melted snow, his pride messed up like badly scrambled eggs. And he was... settled. Because what he felt for her was the one thing most removed from his ego, which made it resplendent with meaning.
And suddenly, for the first time in his long, chaotic, smoke-and-shadow existence, Hunter didn’t want to burn or seduce or haunt. He wanted to build. A space where she’d feel safe, a future where she wouldn’t doubt, a truth that wouldn’t flinch under pressure.
