Aria bolted upright in bed, sweat beading on her forehead. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her heart felt as if it might burst from her chest. Alexander stirred beside her, his hand instinctively reaching for her shoulder.
“Another nightmare?” His voice was hoarse with concern, and the lines around his eyes deepened in the moonlight filtering through the curtains.
“I can’t shake it,” Aria whispered, trembling. “It was different this time.”
Alexander sat up, his warmth steadying her. “Tell me what you saw.”
Aria closed her eyes, but the images flashed behind her eyelids like a cursed painting that refused to fade. “A woman. She was dressed in white, but her eyes—Alexander, they were bleeding black. She stood in the middle of a dark forest, and she spoke to me.”
“What did she say?”
