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Behind us, Hypnos roars.

“Enough!”

Calla pulls back.

“Your father really needs to work on his anger issues.”

I grin.

“Among other things.”

Hypnos lunges.

I turn, raising my hand.

The entire dream freezes around him.

He hangs suspended in the air, black robes motionless, his furious expression fixed.

Calla stares.

“Okay. That’s new.”

I smile.

“I’ve been rather restrained until now.”

“Understatement of the millennium.”

Then she looks at her hands.

Silver light still flickers beneath her skin.

“Morpheus?”

I follow her gaze.

And my smile fades.

Not with fear.

With wonder.

“Merciful fates.”

She looks up.

“What?”

“You’re a Dreamwalker.”

“A what?”

“A mortal born with the ability to cross between dreams and waking reality. To shape dreams rather than simply experience them.”

She blinks.

“Is that why I could touch you?”