That night, the Dark Queen haunted Tam’s dreams. Her midnight hair brushed his face while she whispered promises in his ear. She smelled of stars and roses.
Tam woke in the darkness, the scent of her still caught in his mouth. He lay awake, the silence broken by his brother’s soft snores, and tried to catch hold of the bits of dream floating in his mind. It was no use. He couldn’t remember her clearly enough. The only thing left was her laugh, sparkling like moonlight on frost.
When he woke again, sunlight was trickling into the room. His alarm buzzed beside him like an angry bee.
“Get up,” the Bug said from the couch, then yanked his own pillow over his head.
“You, too.” Tam sat up and pushed out of his sleeping bag. He smelled coffee. Mom must be up already - and cheerful as only her
