“I’m not here to see you about that, however. Someone told me you might have knowledge about dreamcraft chains.”
Frowning, she tapped her chin, her gaze sweeping through the multi-story room as if she could pinpoint what I was seeking with a simple glance. “Ah, yes. Hmm. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be back shortly.”
At my nod, she hurried across the room and took the stairs on the left to the second level, where she rushed halfway down the loft area and stopped at a stack, her fingers tracing across the spines. She returned with a book held against her chest. The binding was smooth but cracked in places, with sun-and-moon symbols faded into the cover’s surface.
She handed it to me, gently stroking the front before pulling her hand away. “This is the only book I have that discusses dreamcraft spells.Woven Between Realms: The Theory and Rituals of Dreamcraft & Soulbinding.”
I took it, holding it like a tombstone to my chest. It felt obscene, how light the book was. If this truly held the answer, if this was the bridge between Reyla and a future, it should feel like more.
“I did a bit of study in this realm once myself, which is why I knew where to find the book. Dreamcraft spells are used to trap souls in an internal prison where they’re unaware they’re chained.”
Valera rubbed her hands together, watching me. “Dreamcraft chains aren’t regular bindings. They live inside a person’s spirit.From what I learned long ago, they’re often built from pain. Guilt. Despair. They trap someone in their own wounds, even if the person has long believed those internal wounds have healed. It's a sleeping sorrow, I suppose you could say.”
Blinking slowly, she stared at the floor. “A true soul match can attempt a Shadowmeld, an ancient rite to enter the trapped person’s spiritual plane via their shadow. There, they have a chance, and a very slim chance, I’ll say, of breaking the chains and freeing them. Only someone bonded to the soul can break the chains and the spell. Most wouldn’t dare attempt it. It’s difficult. Dangerous.”
Her lips curled up before smoothing again, and her gaze met mine. “I'll be curious to hear one day why this interests you. It’s an ancient spell. I'm not sure anyone living knows how to craft it.”
Just Prager who should not be living. She wouldn't be for long. I’d seen her lying in a pool of blood, but it would take more than what I’d done to kill her.
“The process is deeply personal and dependent on emotional resonance,” Valera said, nudging a few strands of hair off her face and across her shoulder. “It doesn't take only magic, but memory, love, and soul recognition. The most ancient and effective instances of this spell appear in records of lifebonded kings and queens.”
“What kind of danger?” My voice came out like gravel dragging across stone.
“A person wishing to break the spell must enter the soul path created between them, through their shadow. They must find their memories. Their truths.” Her brow furrowed. “They won’t be happy ones, of course, or it wouldn’t be such a fierce trap. Anyone taking on this challenge needs to accept all of this person. Not only love them.Knowthem. They must also be willing to bear their burdens, and that, itself, comes with a great price.”
“What price?”
She frowned, staring past my shoulder. “If they’re not strong enough, they could be trapped there by the same spell. No one could free either of them after that. They’d whither…” A shudder ripped through her. “Not a pleasant way to die, I’d say.”
She exhaled and squared her shoulders. “Few have what it takes to not only break the chains but to convince the person that life is worth living. A true mate can do it, however. If the bond is strong, they'll find a way to pull the other person away and break the spell.”
“Very good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome to borrow the book for the night, but I do ask that patrons return all volumes by morn—” A blush filled her face. She stiffened, blinking, taking a small step backward. “Oh. Wait—no. You’re theking. I knew that of course. I… This is standard protocol.” She glanced at the book again, then dragged her gaze back to meet mine. “Youdon’t need to return it. You can keep it as long as you like.” She shook her head, brushing her hand down her waist. “All the books here are yours, my king.”
“I'll take good care of it and return it once I’ve finished. Thank you.”
I flitted back to our suite.
If the fates meant to test me, they’d better be ready.
“Hold on, Wildfire,” I whispered into the dark. “I’m coming.”
Chapter 4
Lore
Farris had remained on the bed, his nose resting on Reyla’s leg. His ears perked forward when I flitted into view, but his eyes never left her.
The heat of the room hit me. How could a place feel warm when she felt so cold? Firelight jerked across the walls, and shadows shifted across the wooden beams overhead. They’d better be watching over my wife.
Every breath she pulled in felt like one borrowed. From where, I didn’t know. But the debt gnawed at me.
I walked to the bed and laid the book beside her, the leather still warm from my hands. I looked at her for a long moment, hoping she’d move. Her chest rose and fell softly. Still here, but for how long? Would the spell eventually suck all of her away?
I left the bedroom and crossed the sitting area, my boots nearly silent on the floor. Opening the door, I found two guards at their posts.
They straightened fast.
