“Good night,” she said softly as she stood, gathering the box of chocolates. Her squirrel scampered onto her shoulder, and she walked toward the bedroom.
Lucius nodded, watching her until she disappeared into the room.
One more day.
He stabbed the burning log, suddenly wishing tomorrow would never come.
Tavia may not have awakened to her true feelings, but Lucius had been alive long enough to understand the depth of his emotions.
Andthatwas more terrifying than the mission.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ascream erupted from her mouth; her body engulfed in flames. She kept screaming, unable to escape the fire.
The flames licked at her skin, hot and ravenous, their crackling roar deafening in her ears. The acrid scent of burning filled her nostrils, choking her as her vision blurred from the intensity of the heat.
She had never been in so much pain.
“Tavia. Tavia!”
A voice, soft and insistent, broke through the chaos.
She woke with a gasp, sitting up abruptly. Her skin glistened with sweat, damp and clammy against the night air. Her heart pounded like a war drum in herchest, and tears streamed down her face, hot and unchecked.
Lucius was on the bed next to her.
It was dim, the faintest silver light spilling into the room, but not fully night.
She glanced around, her gaze darting to the open window where the first hues of dawn—muted purples and delicate oranges—filtered in. The cool breeze brushing through the room starkly contrasted the inferno in her dream.
“Hey,” Lucius murmured, his voice low and soothing. He reached for her, his touch warm as he gently grabbed her face, brushing back strands of damp, sweat-soaked hair.
“It was just a nightmare,” he said.
But she couldn’t stop shaking, her muscles tight and her breath shallow.
He lifted her onto his lap as if she weighed nothing and held her, rocking her rhythmically. His hand stroked her hair in slow, calming motions, the steady rhythm matching the faint chirp of awakening birds outside.
She kept trembling, her body rigid against him, hermind unable to form coherent thoughts. It had felt so real—the fire.
Her parents weren’t in this one.
This time, she was trapped in her home, the familiar smell of pine reduced to the acrid stench of burning timber. She could still feel the phantom heat blistering her skin.
She gripped his shirt, the cool fabric a relief against her overheated palms, trying desperately to steady herself.
“Same dream?” he asked, his voice gentle. His hand stroked her hair, rubbing small circles on her back as he rocked her in his arms.
“Different,” she managed to say, her voice trembling. “I was on fire. My home again.”
The words came out between gasps, each one hitching in her throat. She had never had nightmares this close together, and she didn’t understand why.
Lucius tightened his embrace, his arms strong and steady.
“It’s all right. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you. It’s just a nightmare.”
“What if it’s not?” she whispered, her voice barelyaudible. “It feels so real.”
