The dreams always started the same way – with his hands.
Strong, elegant fingers trailing fire across her skin, leaving paths of silver light in their wake. The way they'd curl protectively around her waist, like he could shield her from the entire world if he just held on tight enough. How they'd tremble, ever so slightly, when she'd kiss his palm, his legendary control fracturing under the weight of what blazed between them.
Daisy's eyes flew open, heart racing as the hospital room's familiar shadows pressed in around her. The midnight medication check had left her mouth tasting of chalk and chemicals, but she could still feel the phantom touch of those hands, could still smell winter storms and primal magic on her skin. The dreams felt more real than the scratchy hospital sheets, more
