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Dreams Of Fate

Page 86

by T.D. Edwards

I snuggle against him. “I won’t pop into your dream.” I don’t think he’s comfortable with me seeing him like that. I didn’t mean to earlier, but I’m glad I did.

“It felt…natural,” he hums. “I was surprised I remembered everything so clearly. I panicked when I couldn’t wake up.”

I rub my cheek against his chest. “You hadn’t experienced something like that before, so it’s not unusual. Most people wouldn’t know it was real. Since we're soul bonds, I think you’ll remember every time, and we won’t need you to get tattoos.” As long as he continues to trust me and our bond. The longer we're together, the easier it should be.

“I don’t like being asleep when you're in danger,” he grumbles.

“Luckily, you woke up, and we were wrong about Evander and Clara.” I tilt my head back. “It’ll get easier.”

“Hopefully, you're right about both of those statements.” He glides his thumb down my nose. “Sleep.” He bends his head, kissing me gently. “Tomorrow we will face the day together.”

I smile, kiss his shoulder, and settle in.

Sleep.

Instead of drifting away into nothing, I fall into a dream and groan. I should have done a stronger spell. I shake my head, realizing I’m not in someone else’s dream, but my own.

The house I called home is in front of me, and I frown. I’ve rarely seen my dreams as a memory, but that’s what this feels like. There's a mist around the edges, similar to Archer’s dream. I remember the old car they drove that's parked in the driveway. A neighbor is walking their dog. She was mean and always glared at me whenever I played outside.

Why can’t I have a lovely sex dream with Archer instead?

I huff and walk up the steps. Opening the door that I thought I would never walk through again, I tiptoe inside. The house is exactly how I remember. Betty didn’t spend much time cleaning, but she loved to buy things. The entryway is cluttered. Every time she saw anything related to cats, she bought it. A large umbrella stand, in the shape of a cat, is in the corner. We never owned an umbrella. There are pictures, trinkets, and a coat rack in the feline theme.

There are three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a small office. We were never allowed to enter the office. I hear voices coming from the room, and I hesitate. Old habits are hard to break. I take a step in that direction, but freeze.

A mini version of me is creeping through the room. She’s trailing down the wall, arms wide, her palms sliding over the chipped paint. She doesn’t look at me; her focus is on the partially open door.

My brain is having a hard time computing that it's me.

I remember the day and my curiosity. Betty and Travis are having a hushed conversation, and the temptation led me to eavesdrop. Just as I did then, I sneak forward until I realize I don’t have to.

“I don’t want to do it anymore,” Travis hisses.

I pass my younger self and push the door open. They're standing close together, and Travis’s fist is balled. Betty is glaring at him.

“We have to,” she whispers, crossing her arms.

“Why? Why do we have to?”

“Remember the money. Do you know how much we can do with it?” She slaps the back of her hand against his chest. “You need to think about us. Our future. It won’t last forever, and then we'll be free.”

I frown, not remembering hearing the conversation. Glancing to the right, I see the small version of me walk slowly toward the kitchen, stopping every couple of feet, and looking toward the office. That’s why. I roll my eyes. I do remember I had an obsession with snacks, and Betty and Travis only allowed one a day.

I turn my attention back to the room.

“How long?” Travis demands.

“Sweetheart—”

“Betty, I swear…” He lifts a brow.

“Three months, maybe four.” She presses her palms together in front of her chest. “Just hang on.”

“What about two months ago when you said we would be free this month?” He pounds his fist on the desk.

“I know.” She grabs his arm and sways it back and forth. “I promise this time. Savy’s magic is showing itself. We have to figure out how to take advantage of it before we insist Mom step in.”

“She can’t control it yet. It’s not benefiting us at all.”