Page 65 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

“Or stupider than I look.”

He chuckles. “Definitely not that.”

We stand there for a moment, the air between us charged with something more than that sizzle I’ve come to expect from his touch. And I do want his touch. I want him to hold me and tell me that we’ll get through this. That I’m strong enough to handle all this craziness that’s been dumped into my lap.

More than that, I want to forget for a little bit. I want to just be a college student standing with a boy.

His gaze drops to my lips, then back to my eyes, and for a breathless second, I think my wish might come true.

Then he steps back, and my fantasy shatters like glass.

“Goodnight, Cora,” he says. “Sweet dreams.”

The irony of the phrase breaks the spell, and I manage a shaky smile. “That might be asking too much.”

“You’ll be fine. But if anything feels wrong, anything at all, call me immediately.”

He hands me a card with his phone number written in careful script. Our fingers brush again during the exchange, sending that familiar jolt through my system. “Chase? Do you⁠—”

Before he can say anything, I shake my head. “Never mind. I’ll call if I need to. I promise.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to drill down on my question, but then he nods once before turning and walking down the hall to the elevator, leaving me standing in the doorway with my heart racing and the taste of disappointment on my lips.

Chapter

Eighteen

The Griffin’s Nest looks different at night. Without the afternoon sunlight streaming through the stained-glass panels, the bookstore feels more mysterious, shadows pooling between tall shelves and light flickering from sconces mounted on the walls like a protective energy that makes my skin tingle.

Or maybe that’s just nerves mixed with anticipation.

We find Mr. Griffin in the back room, arranging candles, crystals, and small bowls of white powder on the large central table.

“Oooh! Magicky goodness,” Tia says, bounding over.

“Cora, Tia,” he says. “It’s good you’re here, though I wish it was under better circumstances.” His gaze shifts to Chase. “How bad was it last night?”

“We met Vexarin,” I say, before Chase can answer. “Odd fellow. Can’t say I liked him.”

Mr. Griffin frowns. “Well, that seals it,” he says with a glance toward Chase. “There’s no doubt now that you truly are the prophesied Bride.”

“Apparently so,” I say. “Kind of a shotgun wedding.”

He chuckles, then pulls me in for an awkward hug. “You’re strong, dear child. I wish this burden did not have to fall on you, but since it has, I’m glad that you have the fortitude to shoulder it.”

“Do I? Because hiding under the bed sounds really appealing.”

Chase glances my way. “The trouble with that,” he says, “is that you never know who or what you’ll find under there with you.”

“And so we make sure that our Cora is prepared.”

“Right.” I nod. “Prepared for what, exactly?”

“The storm that’s coming,” Mr. Griffin says. “Last night was just the beginning.”

“Chase said you were a Hunter too.”

“Twenty-three years on the job. Retired when my partner disappeared after a breach incident. She’s dead,” he adds, almost casually, but I can see the pain that lingers in his eyes. He gestures to the items on the table, all part of a protective spell, I assume. “These days, I prefer support roles. Safer for everyone involved.”