“When we are asleep in this world, we are awake in another.” -Salvador Dali
The entrance of the dark cave looms before me, the wind whispering through the narrow opening. Taking a few cautious steps, I look into the depths of the cave, its eerie stillness putting me on edge. There’s an unrelenting tug in my chest that compels me to move forward. At a slow pace, I venture into the darkness, depending entirely on my heightened senses to lead the way.
The distinct sound of laughter reaches me, making me tingle with the urge to shift. I know I’m dreaming, yet frustratingly, I remain unable to manipulate my dream world.
“Fuck . . . you . . .” a voice I know very well grits out.
I standstill, frozen, and then lift my head, taking a deep breath through my nose.
Ash . . .
Her distinct scent fills my senses—dark rose with spices. My eyes widen and I quicken my pace, heart pounding with the urgency to reach her. Drawn by the flickering light up ahead, I cautiously approach an open cavern.
Inside, a dark figure looms over someone lying on the floor. The scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. A deep, guttural growl emanates from within me, causing my chest to vibrate, and I quickly scan my surroundings for a weapon. I need to lure him away from Ash.
Looking down, I notice a massive rock by my feet, its jagged edges rough against my fingertips as I crouch to pick it up. I steal a backward glance at the gaping tunnel behind me, shadows still thick and undisturbed, and with a deep breath, I hurl the rock with everything I have. Every muscle strains with the effort, and the stone sails through the air before crashing into the darkness.
The sound is instant, explosive. Rocks clatter and slam against each other, the sharp noise echoing throughout the cave in a thunderous roar. It bounces off the walls, multiplying, until the whole place seems to shake with the force of it.
That should certainly grab his attention.
I step back into the shadows, my breath barely a whisper as I press myself against the cold, damp rock. The figure strolls past me, his footsteps echoing softly in the cavern as he heads toward the cave entrance. I hold my breath, waiting, counting the seconds until his presence fades into the distance. Once I’m certain he’s gone, I slip out of the shadows and move deeper into the wide cavern. The air is thick with the scent of earth and blood.
As I take another cautious step, a wave of apprehension tightens around me, creeping up my spine. My boots scuff against the uneven ground, and I glance around the cavern, searching for anything—movement, shadows, a hint of life.
A breath catches in my throat as I lock onto a crumpled figure lying motionless against the far wall, half-hidden in the shadows. The dim light barely touches her, but I know that shape. Recognition slams into me, my heart stalling for a moment before it hammers painfully in my chest.
I break into a run, my footsteps quick and light on the rocky ground as I cross the distance between us. Every instinct in me screams to get to her, to see if she’s still breathing.
When I reach her, the sight of her still form makes my stomach lurch. She’s facing the wall, her body twisted unnaturally, and her black hair—usually so vibrant and silky—is matted with blood. The dark, viscous fluid stains the cold stone beneath her. I drop to a squat beside her, my hands trembling as I reach out to assess her injuries.
“Come on, Ash,” I murmur, my voice barely a whisper as I gently turn her onto her back.
Her skin is pale, her breathing shallow, and I can see the extent of the damage now—deep gashes running along her arms, and a particularly nasty wound on her side. But what strikes me the most is the lack of healing. Her wounds should be closing by now, her body mending itself as it always does. But they remain open, raw and bleeding, as if something is preventing her from recovering.
“Fuck, Ash,” I hiss.
Ash’s beautiful onyx eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of relief. But as she blinks up at me, doubt begins to creep in. Her gaze is unfocused, distant, like she’s looking through me rather than at me. Then, without warning, she bursts into a fit of laughter, the sound jarring. Confusion mingles with the fury simmering just beneath my skin. This isn’t right. None of this is right.
I reachout, my hand trembling slightly as I gently cup her face. Her skin is cool to the touch, her cheekbones sharp beneath my fingers.
“Baby,” I murmur, my voice low and edged with concern. “Tell me where you are.”
But she just keeps laughing, even as her split lip cracks open, fresh blood oozing from the wound. Her laughter is wild, almost manic, and it twists something deep inside me. Pain is evident in her eyes, the exhaustion etched into her features, but it’s like she’s not fully here.
“I’m fucking dreaming, aren’t I?” she finally manages to say between gasps of laughter, her voice tinged with a strange mix of amusement and despair. There’s a glimmer of recognition in her eyes now, but it’s buried beneath layers of something else.
I tighten my grip on her face, forcing her to focus on me, on the reality of the situation. “Yes, baby, we are dreaming, but if this is real, tell me who has you. How can I find you?”
Ash lifts her hand, covering mine, and a heavy chain links her wrists together. The look in her eyes has my heart jerking in my chest.
“Baby, don’t look at me like that. I’m coming for you.”
“No!” She squeezes my hand harder. “I’ll be fine.”
I look over her thin frame, swallowing over the lump in my throat. “You can’t—”
Ash draws in a sharp breath, her eyes widening in panic, cutting off my words. “He’s coming back. Go!” Ash hisses, pushing me away as she struggles to sit up.
