Page 44 of Dark Embrace

Every Master and deamhan knew that dreams were reality, but of a different realm, one transcending the physical and earthly plane where mortals were bound until death.

That was why dreams were so often vivid. For they were real—mortals simply didn’t know it.

But the dream world was governed by a whimsical goddess, and the rules were as insubstantial as the realm. Every dream could be unwritten or rewritten an infinite number of times, an infinite number of ways. In dreams, Fate was constantly erased, eroded, changed. In dreams there was right and wrong—and then there was no right, and no wrong, because the next dream would be different. And in a dream, no one could die.

In her dreams, he could not hurt her, and if he did, tomorrow it could be rewritten.

He tensed, refusing to lurk now. The whores’ camp was very close to the southern wood. But although he was determined to ignore Brianna, he faltered. She dreamed of him all the time, and her thoughts had told him her dreams were very sexual and erotic. He wished he hadn’t ever heard her thinking about her active fantasy life.

His heart was racing now.

His loins were hot and thick.

He glanced at his tent and his mind slipped helplessly into hers.

But the dream was an innocent one. She was with her lady friends.

He was almost disappointed that she was dreaming about the women and not him, but it was better this way. He made up his mind and started to walk away, but as he did, he listened closely to her. She was so happy and so well-loved. And then she looked at him and smiled. “Aidan.”

In her dream she stood on the threshold of a room, starkly and lushly naked. There was no mistaking what she wanted—and what would happen next.

He knew he must turn his mind away from hers. He knew he must continue on to the whores’ camp.

He knew that whatever happened next, it could be rewritten on the morrow.

Ablaze, he stepped into her dream.

I AM SHAMELESS, BRIE THOUGHT, slowly crossing her loft. Her body was hot and alive, and she felt as beautiful as a seductress. She felt her hips swing as she went to him; she felt her hair tangling over her breasts. Aidan stood in the doorway, unmoving. His blue eyes were blazing with heat and desire, their brilliance almost blinding.

She could barely breathe, and her mouth was dry. She knew she was dreaming; she couldn’t possibly be in New York City with him, like this, but it didn’t diminish her excitement. “I am so glad to see you,” she whispered. “I have missed you.”

He started. His face set, he said, “Hallo, a Bhrianna,” and his smoldering gaze slid down her naked body.

She went still. No one had ever looked at her in such a bold, hot way—no, Aidan had looked at her that way. He had looked at her that way when she was not dreaming, at Awe—she was almost certain. And no one had ever desired her this way before. Vaguely, she wondered at her empathy. Why was she feeling him in a dream?

His gaze had become an erotic caress. Her skin tingled beneath it, swelling. Distracted, she gasped, “I really need you.”

His mouth shifted but didn’t curve. “Aye.” He reached for her.

His hands closed on her, and his grasp was stunningly real—too real. Her body fired, and the heat in his eyes thrilled her. “You want me,” she managed. But she was confused.

“Aye, in yer dreams,” he said tersely.

Something was awry. Brie inhaled. Their gazes held. “This is a dream, isn’t it?”

“Does it matter?” He pulled her closer and she gasped. He reached for his sword belt, and suddenly all of his clothes vanished, even his boots. Brie looked at his hard, sculpted body. She looked at his perfect, tight face and his huge arousal. She wet her lips, her pulse so rapid now she started feeling faint.

He clasped her shoulders, breathing hard. His tension was so high it had become painful. “I am going to take power, Brianna, but I won’t hurt ye,” he said harshly.

He was going to take power, not make love to her? That was all wrong. In her dreams, he made love to her, and laughter followed in the aftermath of their passion. In her dreams, she felt her desire, not his. “I’m becoming nervous,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened, and he pulled her close against his hard, quivering body. “Dinna fear me now,” he whispered.

Brie gasped. The contact between their skin was electric, shocking, exciting—and real. Her confusion increased. Was she dreaming or not?

His face impossibly set now, he pushed her hair back over her shoulders, and suddenly his hands slid down her back. She shivered in pleasure and lifted her eyes to his. He was staring at her mouth with a raw hunger. Then he met her gaze.

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you kissing me? Why do I keep feeling you?”