Page 58 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

At the landing, he pauses. “Before we go in, there are things inside that might seem strange. Don’t touch anything without asking first.”

“Weird taxidermy? Shrine to your ex? Actual skeletons?” Tia’s tone is forced lightness.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Nothing that interesting. And I don’t have an ex. Occupational hazard.” His glance flicks to me, and I feel that same sizzle all over again. “The no-touch rule is just a precaution. Some things in there you don’t want to mess with.”

Tia and I both nod.

Inside, it’s a studio apartment—one big open space with exposed beams hung with dried herbs and chimes of silver and iron. A curved blade sits on the kitchen counter like other people leave their keys, and the windowsills are lined with small glass jars filled with things I can’t identify— and I don’t think I want to. Something pale and purple in one of the jars seems to move, and I freeze.

Chase chuckles. “Mare venom. It has its uses.”

“Oh.” I turn quickly away to scope out the rest of the place, which, thankfully doesn’t squirm. Minimal furnishings but comfortable. I don’t see a bed, so I figure the sofa doubles as one. Assuming Hunters sleep.

I frown, realizing how little I know about him besides the fact that I trust him. And that, I hope, won’t turn out to be a mistake.

“First things first,” he says, pointing to the ottoman. “Let me see that cut.”

I sit, then pull the handkerchief away, now stained with blood. “Still bleeding?”

He shakes his head. “How’s it feel?”

“Throbbing. But I’ll live.”

“Let’s get it cleaned up.” He retrieves a wooden box filled with bottles and packets. “Hunter first aid,” he explains, selecting a clear vial and gauze. “This might sting a bit.”

“A bit?” I shriek as fire cuts through me. But by the time I see his grimace and shrug, the pain’s gone. “A warning would’ve been nice,” I mutter.

“Fast and over. No time to worry.”

“What was that stuff, anyway?”

“A mix to clean the wound and prevent supernatural infection.” He opens another jar, then spreads a thin, slightly purple salve. I glance at the jar in the window but decide not to ask.

“And now you’re good to go,” he assures me, pressing a bandage over the cut. “Most supernatural injuries don’t scar. Not in this realm, anyway.”

“Oh,” I say, thinking of the scar on his cheek—the one visible only in dreams.

“Better?”

I touch the bandage. “Yeah. Much. Thanks.”

Something warm flickers in his eyes. “Always.” The word feels heavy with meaning. I clear my throat and look around, ignoring Tia’s knowing grin.

The walls are covered with maps, diagrams, and photographs connected by colored strings. “Conspiracy theory chic,” Tia mutters.

I stifle a laugh as Chase removes his jacket, revealing arms covered in black-ink tattoos—symbols and creatures twining across muscle. Dream Chase has tattoos too, though not identical—and wildly colorful. “So,” I ask, “it’s you in both realms, right? You just look a little different? Plus the dragon.”

“It’s me,” he says after a pause. “Everyone manifests differently in each realm.”

“How am I different?”

His lips curve in an easy grin. “Don’t worry, Cora. You’re lovely in both.”

“Oh.” Heat floods my cheeks. “Nice to know,” I say as Tia flashes me a double thumbs-up behind him.

I drift toward the biggest map—St. Augustine with translucent overlays marked in red and blue. “What’s all this?”

“Places where mares can slip through more easily,” he says.