For a moment, waking was worse than dreaming.
The real room surged back in fragments. Gold fire instead of silver. Rain moving against the glass. Dark curtains. Heavy bed. The smell of ash-water, fever, and smoke. Sera’s knees pressed into the mattress because at some point in the dream or waking she had crossed the room and climbed half onto the bed. One hand was braced against Valerius’s chest above the bandage. The other gripped the blanket near his shoulder.
Valerius lay beneath her, awake now, eyes wide and dark in the firelight.
Their faces were still too close.
Not inches in a dream.
Inches in the waking world.
His breathing was rough. Hers was worse. The bond between them pulsed hard enough to feel like a living thing trapped between their bodies. His chest rose beneath her h
