The nightmares started three nights after the Hand's defeat.
Michael woke screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. The dreams were always the same—Old Kael's face, pale and still, the blood spreading across his chest. Danny's legs, crushed and useless. Mira's eyes, wide with terror as she fell from a great height. Alexei's body, broken and twisted at the bottom of a ravine.
He sat up in bed, his hands shaking, his breath ragged. Beside him, Mira stirred, her hand reaching for his.
"Another nightmare?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.
"Same one." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, his head in his hands. "I can't shake it. Every night, it's the same thing."
Mira sat up beside him, her arm wrappin
