[Sylas]
The dream shattered with a lingering, visceral heat that clung to my skin. My eyes snapped open, the moonlight filtering through the window, painting the room in stark shadows. Vernon, beside me, stirred almost simultaneously, a low groan escaping his lips. The air in the room, which had moments ago been filled with the phantom scent of Elora's arousal and the imagined feel of her skin, now hummed with a potent presence of her magic.
A shared glance with Vernon was all it took. His eyes, usually so composed, held a raw, bewildered intensity that mirrored my own. We didn't need words; the dream, so vivid, so real, had been a direct transmission. Her touch, her teasing, the sheer audacity of her desire—it had been unmistakably Elora.
And the source? That cool, luminous pulse I no
