Discussions of mpreg and fertility
Emotional and Psychological Themes:
Secondary gender and identity discussions
Emotional breakdowns, intense vulnerability
Ongoing trauma healing and recovery arcs
These topics are handled with care, but I understand they may be challenging for some readers. Please take care of yourself while reading.
2
From Fractured Dreams (Grayson)
At first, Grayson thinks it’s a memory—one of those too-bright dreams that start before you’re fully under.
His dreams had always been vivid, leaving him feeling like they were more than his imagination and more like memories. In the last few months, they’d started becoming sharper and more frequent. Not just vague impressions, but vivid glimpses—pieces out of time, a hand reaching for his, the soft press of lips, those blue-glowing eyes.
Exhausted from the day’s revelations, he’d gone to bed with his mates curled around him in the nest, finally all together, lulled by the strange but welcome sense of security that Nimue’s small protections had woven around their temporary den.
In what seems like seconds, he’s dreaming of bright sunshine, heat, and the brilliant turquoise of a very expensive swimming pool. A wrought-iron glass-topped table sits in front of the hedge-edged flower bed where Grayson stands—bare feetin cool black soil—and on it, there is a tea tray set. The set includes a single blue-black and gold teacup and a single raisin scone on a plate that matches the cup.
A loud splash pulls his attention away, and Grayson turns his head in time to see a pair of bony feet break the surface of the pool. He wonders if this might be another one of his dreams, but every time he’s had one in the past, his pack has always been present, at least in part.
What had he been thinking of before he’d dreamed of this place? And why is he alone?
Before, his dreams had always turned toward historical settings—places his mind could place through time—and he’d thought it was just his active imagination.
But in retrospect, when they’d been at the first safe house and the dark magic user—because that’s what the human man had been—had somehow been looking for them, Grayson had unknowingly been accessing The Plain. The dreams were magical, and no, that’s not hyperbole.
But this feels different.
Then, the younger man hadn’t expected to find Grayson right there, but certainly hadn’t passed up the opportunity to try to hold him immobile while Carnell sent reinforcements. Panicked, Grayson had yanked on his connection to Nix to save himself, nearly drawing too much from The Plain through their soul to do it.
It’s because Grayson doesn’t know how to regulate the flow yet. Nimue had shown him how to metaphysically tie a knot in it (Ha, yes, she had laughed too). It wasn’t enough to stem the flood entirely, just slow it down so he didn’t cause irreparable harm.
So, this feels something like that, but much more controlled, more on purpose. Grayson can feel a trickle of power deep in the center of his brain.
The soil under his toes is cool, as if the plants had been watered recently, and the screen of bushes hiding him is perfectly trimmed. The most recent pruning is clear in the edges of raw wood in front of his nose.
