“It’s not about you.” The words come out cracked. Broken in places I didn’t know were still bleeding. “I spent a long time only having myself to show up for me. When you learn that lesson young enough, it sticks.”
His hand finds my jaw. Tilts my face until I have to look at him.
“Then let me teach you a different lesson.”
“Kieran—”
“I would burn every court to ash to reach you.” His voice drops, and the dream itself seems to hold its breath, the moonlight sharpening, the shadows going still, as if even this place knows a vow when it hears one. “I would walk through every nightmare my father could construct. I would dream-walk until my mind shattered trying to find you.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “You deserve to be found, troublesome thing. You deserve to feel wanted. And if it takes me the rest of my existence to make you believe that—” Snowflakes drift between us, landing on my cheeks, melting against my skin. “Then I have time.”
Something inside me cracks. An emotion so deeply buried that I had no idea how it felt until this very moment.
He sees it happen. Sees the walls come down.
And then, only then, does he start to move again.
“And the others?” I gasp between thrusts, because I need to know. Because I’ve been pretending I don’t care for a month and I can’t anymore. “Orion? Finnian?”
Pain tightens his jaw. But he doesn’t stop moving. “Orion’s been burning through the borderlands trying to find a way in. Nearly got himself killed twice.” He rolls his hips and I see stars. “The Cauldron was ripped from his chest tonight.”
“What?”
“Long story. He’s alive. Furious, but alive.”
“And Finnian?”
The pause is longer this time. His rhythm falters. “Finnian blames me for not warning them about my father’s plan sooner.”
“Is he wrong?”
“No.” The word is quiet. Honest. “He’s not wrong.”
I file that away with all the other things I can’t afford to feel right now.
“They’re waiting,” Kieran says, picking up his pace again. “All of them. For a way to reach you.”
No bond to confirm it. No magic pulsing between us. Just his word. Just trust.
I kiss him instead of crying.
“Now let me fuck you until you’re screaming my name.” He leans back, gripping my ass in one hand while the other holds us both steady. He rolls his hips up, his cock dragging against my g-spot until I see stars.
“Yes,” I manage. “You should definitely do that.”
My head falls back as he drives into me and I no longer care that this is a dream because it feels real.
“Is this how you dream of me?” he asks, not stopping as he fucks me.
Words. He wants words. When I can barely remember my own name. “Don’t stop.”
He pulls out and flips me onto my stomach.
“Ass up.” The words come out wrecked. “Spread your knees.”
It’s the act of him giving instructions that nearly sends me over the edge. He grabs my hips, yanking me back against him, my knees spread wide enough that I feel the stretch in my hips.
And when he slides forward, I swear I feel him in my chest.
A long, low groan falls from my lips as he grinds deeper than any man has ever been. His hand presses against my lower back as he begins to fuck me, relentless, but slow. So goddamn slow.
