Arms closed around her and she fought back. Hard hands grabbed her wrists, pinned them to the bars.
“I’m real,” the witch said. “No matter what your witch hunter tells you. You know the truth.”
She tried to twist away. A heavy weight fell on her, holding her immobile.
“Get away from me.”
“No, little sapling. I’m not going anywhere.” A breath of soft laughter danced across her lips. Foul breath. It tasted like rot. Like death. She tried not to draw it into her lungs, but it was no use. It filled her anyway, sank deep. “I’m coming for you. You and your witch hunter.”
“No.”
“Oh, yes. Keep him close. Close as a secret. Close as a heartbeat. I’ll reach right through you and claim him too.”
The witch loomed closer and Rowan screamed. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t see anything. She struggled to break free.
There was a grunt.
A voice.
Light.
It was the light that made her hesitate. There was a shadow above her. Her wrists were pinned to a mattress, not metal bars. The room was very dark, but a wash of moonlight spilled through the windows. It was a man holding her down, not the witch. Firelight outlined the shape of his body.
“Rowan,” Casrian said, his voice firm, hoarse. “You’re all right. It’s a dream. You’re safe.”
A shudder ran through her, and she stilled. Her breath came in harsh pants. She was in Casrian’s room, on his estate. Not in a cell. Not in the woods. She was lying on the softest bed she’d ever slept in.
Safe.
She was safe here.
Casrian stared down at her, breathing heavily. His eyes glittered in the darkness. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.” Though a part of her felt like she was still back in that place. Like she would always be back in that place.
Slowly, he released her wrists and pushed himself off her. He ran a hand through his hair as he sat back on the bed. His thighpressed against her hip, warm and solid and real. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. You were thrashing around. I didn’t want you to hurt your hand.”
“I’m fine. I was having a nightmare about…” She shook her head. Just thinking about that place brought it closer. She wanted to forget it. “I’m all right. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
It was late. She could feel that. The house was quiet. She remembered her mother bringing her tea for the pain. She’d fallen asleep with her mother still in the room speaking quietly with Asher. They’d probably drugged her even though she’d asked them not to.
“Everything is fine. I came to check on you and drifted off in the chair. You cried out in your sleep.” He started to get up. “I can leave?—”
“No,” she said quickly, reaching out to grab his hand, fumbling it because of the stupid bandage. “Don’t go.”
She saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he hesitated. “I shouldn’t be in here with you alone at night.”
She dropped her head back on the pillows. “Haven’t we already settled this? Your rules don’t apply to me.”
He didn’t smile. “Those rules are meant to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection from you.”
She felt that with a certainty that was unshakeable, which was funny. He’d probably hurt her more than anyone else in her life. And he had the power to hurt her again, badly if she let him.
But she didn’t want him to go.
That dream clung to her. She could feel it hiding in the shadows of the room just waiting for her to close her eyes again.
