(Aria POV)
Aria fell asleep between Dominic and Adrian, their arms wrapped protectively around her, their wolves refusing to rest.
But the moment her consciousness slipped—
Darkness shifted.
Fire bloomed.
She was pulled into a dream that didn’t feel like a dream at all.
A grand hall of obsidian stone.
Scarlet windows.
A throne carved from living shadow.
And on it—
The Demon King.
His gaze softened the instant he saw her.
“You are safe,” he murmured.
“Good.”
Aria backed away. “Get out of my head.”
He rose from the throne slowly, every movement controlled, lethal, impossibly graceful.
“You carry my mark. Dreams are the one place I may speak to you without tearing open realms.”
“I don’t want to speak to you.”
He stopped only inches away.
“You will.”
His hand rose—slow, del
