“Sleep’s overrated.” Nick took a sip of his coffee—black, despite the sugar dispenser sitting nearby. “Besides, I do some of my best thinking at three in the morning.”
“About what?”
“Whether we’re ready for the storm. What might be needed to get back on track after. Whether my brother is going to survive having someone care about him for once.”
The last part landed with deliberate casualness, Nick stirring his coffee in faux unconcern. But the weight of it pressed down, tensing her shoulders.
She drank her water, buying time. He didn’t push, just continued watching her reflection in the window glass—present, but not confrontational. The dream hovered in her consciousness—the too-still ocean, the wrong wind, the woman in red.
You won’t see it coming.
It might be foolish to bring up a nightmare to someone like him—a wealthy CEO—but his demeanor invited confidence.
“I had a strange dream,” she murmured. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep.”
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. Instead, his attention sharpened, penetrating in a way she hadn’t seen from him before.
“Strange how?” he asked.
Emma set her glass down, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself. “I was standing above Solombra Cave. Everything was… wrong. The ocean was too still. The wind moved in weird patterns. A woman in a red veil appeared.”
Nick went still.
“She came closer each time I blinked.” Her skin prickled in response to the memory. “And she whispered something to me. A warning.”
“What did she say?”
She met his eyes. “‘You won’t see it coming.’”
The kitchen held its breath. Nick’s jaw tightened as his casual demeanor shifted into something harder, more alert. This was the man Zach had trained. The soldier Lena told her lurked beneath the friendly exterior.
“You woke up before seeing her face.” Not a question.
“Yes.” Emma frowned. “How did you know?”
Nick exhaled slowly, setting his coffee down with deliberate care. “That’s how Kate’s dreams often work.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with the hour. “The warning comes first. What the warning is about… that comes later.”
“You believe in the legends.” Again, not a question. Emma could see the answer in his face.
“I’ve seen too much weird shit to dismiss anything outright.” Nick’s smile was thin. “And this island… it’s got its own kind of energy. David would say I’m being superstitious. Zach would tell you to focus on tangible threats. But yes, I believe more happens in our world than we realize.”
Emma thought about the ruins, about the strange pull toward the cave she'd felt since arriving, about the way she felt watched in certain corners of Isla Nocturna, even when no one was there.
“So what should I do?”
“Stay alert,” Nick said simply. “Trust your instincts. Remember that warnings aren’t punishments—they’re gifts. Someone or something is trying to help you prepare.”
“For what?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He picked up his mug again, but didn’t drink. “You need to tell Zach.”
Emma’s hand tightened fractionally on her glass. Nick's mouth quirked.
“He won't ignore something like this. Not when it comes to your safety. His Guardian instincts won't allow it.”
Her eyes flew to his, unsure how to respond. Zach’s revelation—Guardian—felt like sacred ground, something shared in confidence. She wouldn’t betray that trust, even to his brother.
“He trusts you,” Nick said quietly. “Don't waste that.”
