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And hadn’t the door been locked?

The air around him fluctuates and moves as if he’s walking through water. It’s the first time I’ve seen dreams literally cling to a living creature. He drips with them, his entire body obscured by splashes of red and sticky tendrils of shadow.

A larger beast lingers over him almost like a separate entity, but it moves when he moves and watches me with the same intensity.

The dark-haired stranger steps inside—uninvited—and the faint aroma of peaches makes my nostrils flare. It’s the first pleasant scent I’ve tasted on the air since…

Since her.

Why does he smell like her?

“Who are you?” Cage asks. Claws extend from his fingertips and the red in his eyes glows brighter. He’s drawing on strength that he should be conserving, but I don’t chide him for it in front of the stranger.

I already know who he is.

“Cain,” I say, but I don’t share the snarl and contempt dripping from Cage.

I understand why our Sigil was seeking out this beast now. He’s a dream creature, like us.

But he’s also something more. He’s an anchor in a dimension that has a dream plane so massive that it is its own world entirely.

This is why we couldn’t find our Sigil. This is why she needed him.

This is why we need him.

Cage’s eyes widen as he glances at me and then back at the Elite City King. “Do you know where our Sigil is?” he asks.

Cain raises a dark brow. “Sigil? You mean Scarlett?” His tongue flicks out to wet his lip as he adjusts his cuff link. “I saw what you two did to her.” He eyes me, then grins. “Especially you, with the large fangs. You could have at least learned her name before tasting what’s mine.”

To anyone else, those words would sound like a threat, but there’s a kinship in his eyes.

He’s testing me.

“What’s ours,” I say.

Cain’s grin grows. “Yes, ours.” The air shifts as he moves again. He approaches me until he comes within reach. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s walking through the spilled blood as his shoes crunch over the broken glass.

With the kind of power and energy radiating from him, I imagine he’s had his share of bloodshed on his feet.

“We can talk more about this mateship arrangement when we find her. Scarlett is in the Dream Realm, calling for me, but I can’t go to her. Not without your help.” He unfurls his palms and holds out his hands, one to me and one to Cage. “You clearly drink blood for your sustenance, so I suspect mine will top you off. And Helia tells me you are dreamwalkers. So… let’s go for a walk.”

Cage and I look at one another. We’ve been together long enough to have conversations without words.

Cage’s chin dips in a light nod. He’s willing to take a risk that this King can lead us to our Sigil.

To Scarlett.

Kneeling at Cain’s side, I run my fingers over his palm and turn his hand to the side to expose his wrist. Thick veins throb in invitation, and my fangs ache.

I feed on mortals, but that’s because mortals are the ones who are most connected to the world of dreams. Creativity and ambition is practically inscribed in their DNA.

This beast… he is a master of dreams.

When I sink my canines into his skin, the burst of power that burns my throat makes me groan. I latch on and take a long pull, drawing the life force into my mouth.

So fucking good.

Cage does the same, and I sense his presence in a trio of power.