My heart stutters. How did he . . .
Ravi smiles. It’s scary how disarming it is. “Don’t worry. Every Lunar Witch experiences it eventually.”
“Experiences what?” I whisper.
“Dreamwalking.”
I set my fork down. Dreamwalking? “What does that even mean?”
Ravi sighs. “Don’t you understand the breadth of your abilities? Lunar Witches possess the gift of dreamwalking. It allows us to navigate and influence the dreamscapes of others. To analyze the subconscious.”
A sharp inhale. So, this is not me losing my mind?
“How do I know whose dreamed I entered?” I ask before I can help myself.
Ravi shrugs. “There are always clues. Tell me what you saw.”
I hesitate. Have I already said too much?
“Leigh?” Ravi nudges again. “Dreams might reflect hidden fears or desires or even serve as omens.”
“You think what I saw reflects someone else’s desires?” I ask. My heel taps a nervous rhythm against the floor. Janus reigned supreme in the dream, orchestrating events with cruel precision. If that’s true, does it mean her hunger for my position is, too?
To know for sure, I must enter her dreams again.
“Could I do it on purpose?” I ask. “Enter someone else’s dream?”Now that I know it is a dream, maybe I can coerce Janus into giving answers. It’s as if she’s working with Stellan and Beatrix to dethrone me—to cause a rift among the Council to make herself more appealing.
“I wouldn’t advise it,” Ravi says carefully. “Accessing the subconscious can be dangerous for you and the person whose dream you’ve entered. The mind is often volatile, and you could get trapped in the dream.” He pauses, considering his next words. “I’m happy to teach you more about your magic, but we should start with the basics, like shadow manipulation. Or talking with ghosts. Have you ever crossed anyone over? There’s an expiration date for how long a ghost can remain in this realm before their visitation rights are revoked.”
I hesitate. The prospect of mastering my magic is tempting, but prioritizing the exposure of Stellan’s mole before they strike again is paramount. Still . . . this could be an opportunity to unravel his and Alden’s plot, to peel back their intentions like the layers of an onion.
Before I can even respond, Alden strides into the room. Far from hungover, he’s as crisp as a daisy in a tailored suit. He’s even freshly shaven. His cologne—a complex blend of spice and pine that Irefuseto admit I enjoy—fills the condensed space.
“Good afternoon, party people!” Alden says.
As the staff rushes to accommodate his needs, I cross my arms. “Where have you been?”
With a guarded grin, Ravi dives back into his article, unfazed. The tapping on his screen softly counterpoints my heart pounding. “Well, while you were catching up on your beauty rest—you look radiant, by the way—I had the most enjoyable breakfast.”
“I didn’t realize you knew anyone that would bother to take you out?” I say.
“I do.” His response is cryptic.
I huff. “Well, quit leaving me in suspense. Did you meet them last night?”
Alden settles into the seat beside me. He steals a tomato off my plate. I scowl.
“Janus.”
I strive for a nonchalant air, desperate to mask any indication of the burgeoning tension between Janus and myself, acutely aware of Alden’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Huh, didn’t realize you two were chatting," I say, ignoring the unease creeping up my spine. The hell? Why wasn’t I invited?
Alden sighs. “Janus reached out after yesterday’s failed luncheon. I’m surprised you didn’t know, given how close you and your Council are.”
My jaw hardens while Ravi pretends to be absorbed in reading, but he hasn’t turned the page. He’s hanging on to every word, a silent observer in this dangerous game. Alden thinks he’s caught me in a lie.
“What did you two discuss?” I ask.
