The dream did not begin in peace.
The world formed around Rose in fragments—twisted trees in a forest she didn’t know, soil black and damp beneath her feet, and a sky that bled a dull red light. Shadows moved in slow spirals through the branches above, whispering in voices that were not human.
Rose stood in the center of it all, barefoot and alone.
She turned slowly, eyes sharp despite the haze of sleep. The world felt wrong. The edges of the dream were too jagged, too loud. Something was forcing itself in.
She felt it before she saw him.
The air thickened.
The shadows grew cold.
And then he was there.
Vlad stepped out from behind a tree that hadn’t been there a moment before. He looked just as she remembered him—tall, regal, darkness wrapped in a body of grace and hunger. His smil
