“Monster,” a voice whispered into her mind, and then the whisper became a chant, a thousand voices pounding in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Monster, monster, monster.
“It’s time to choose,” Other-Gemma said, stepping forward and out of the crowd. “Your life or theirs.”
She screamed.
The light seared from her skin, blinding. People fell back, shielding their faces.
The tattoo kept spreading, consuming her, until she couldn’t see her own reflection in the polished metal walls, only a figure made of violet fire.
Christian appeared, reaching for her, but the closer he came, the hotter the tattoo burned. She tried to warn him, tried to scream, but no sound came out. Her body wasn’t hers anymore.
Her arm lashed forward, the glow shooting into his chest. His face twisted in pain. He crumpled to the ground, still reaching for her even as the light tore him apart.
“No!” she finally screamed, shredding her throat.
A violent shake ripped the dream away.
“Gemma, stop. You’re dreaming,” Christian’s voice was loud and full of pain.
Her eyes snapped open. She gasped and sat bolt upright, her chest heaving, sweat slicking her skin.It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
An agonized release of air left Christian’s mouth. Her gaze snapped to him.
Christian’s jaw was tight and sweat covered his forehead.
And on his forearm was a red welt in the shape of her hand.
Tears pooled in her lower lids. “Oh stars—Christian—”
“It’s all right,” he said, sitting up. “You were glowing, love. I tried to wake you.”
Her heart cracked. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to.” Her voice shook as the tears finally released. “I hurt you.”
Christian caught her face between his palms. “Hey, look at me. Look. I’m fine. I’m right here.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “It’s over.”
But Gemma couldn’t shake the memory of the dream—Christian collapsing in front of her, torn apart by the very power that now hummed in her veins. The power that had hurt him in reality.
Their tent flap rustled. “Everything okay?” Hawk asked.
Christian raised a hand, his voice steady despite the burn creeping up his arm. “We’re fine. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”
With a muttered apology, the flap fell closed, leaving only the sound of Gemma’s ragged breathing.
“I need to get something for the burn.” She went to move, but Christian placed a hand on her leg.
“I’m fine. The pain’s already fading. Stay with me.”
She shook her head. Her stomach twisted. She buried her face in her hands. “I’m a danger to everyone, even when I’m asleep.”
“No.” He rubbed her arm. “You had a nightmare. That’s all.”
“You call that ‘all?’” she whispered, holding her tattooed arm up to display the faint violet shimmer still ebbing from the markings. “I could’ve killed you.”
He took her hand in his. “You didn’t. You won’t. You’re stronger than you think.”
Fresh tears slipped free. “We both know that isn’t true.” Her tattoo shimmered faintly as if feeding off her anguish.
