Page 7 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

Oh, god. This is what my mother warned me against. Worse, this is how she died, writhing in bed as I tried but failed to wake her, horrified and tear-soaked and useless, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that one day, that would be me.

But not today, Satan. Not today.

They’re all around me now, and I spew out curses as I twist to look behind me, certain I’ll see more monsters ready to attack. Instead, I feel a rush of wind and turn back around to see a gorgeous golden-eyed man in black jeans and a black tee astride a massive golden dragon swooping down from the clouds. The giant wings kick up sand as they race toward me, Golden Eyes’ stern expression exacerbated by the scar on his right cheek.

I know him. I’ve seen him over and over in my nightmares. Even so, at the moment I can’t remember a thing about him, not even if he’s friend or foe. And all I can do is stand there, trapped and hoping that he’s the fucking cavalry. Because I really need some rescuing right now. The dragon’s wings spread wide as it swoops closer, and all the while Golden Eyes is pulling something from a holster at his hip. It’s only when those eyes meet mine—and he sends the thing flying straight toward me—that I remember my mother’s warning about the golden-eyed man.

That’s when I realize that the thing hurtling toward me is a knife.

And that, once again, I’m completely and totally screwed.

Chapter

Three

Icome awake with a jolt, my earlier exhaustion washed away by the adrenaline rush from the dream. I glance at the clock, then dress quickly and head out to Uncle Finn’s house on the other side of campus.

With its cobblestone streets and historic architecture, St. Augustine College totally lives up to the guide’s earlier praise. But at this hour, the campus is beyond beautiful. The light of the setting sun paints the sky in shades of orange and pink that reflect off the white stone buildings. It’s magical. Almost otherworldly. But not in a scary kind of way.

Instead, the campus seems welcoming, with students lounging on benches or crossing the quad in laughing groups, their voices carrying on the evening breeze. It’s normal. Peaceful.

Safe.

I’m so focused on convincing myself that everything is fine that I don’t see the guy until I collide with him.

“Whoa!” he exclaims as I scurry back, totally embarrassed.

I look up—way up—into a hypnotic pair of eyes. They’re an impossible shade of gold, like amber held up to sunlight, and something twists in my chest. I suck in air as I see the rest of his ruthlessly handsome face. The dark hair that’s just long enough to curl around his ears. The strong jaw. The slightly crooked smile. Those compelling eyes that seem to be stealing all my secrets.

“You,” I whisper, as a ribbon of heat coils through me.

He takes a step back, his eyes roaming over me with an intensity that makes me feel more than a little melty.

“Me?” his voice is like warm honey that I desperately want to taste. But his face has the look of a mouse with its tail caught in a trap.

“I’m Cora,” I say, extending my hand. He glances at it but doesn’t take it. On the contrary, he looks like I’d offered him a live grenade. “Cora Lyte,” I say, as if that will make it all clear. “Four years ago. The alley. You did the whole hero thing. Remember?”

“Oh! Right!” His expression shifts from closed-off to understanding. “That creep who was harassing you. You’re Dean Lyte’s niece.”

“Busted.” I grin, feeling strangely giddy that he remembers me. I’d had quite a crush on the mysterious sophomore who’d come out of nowhere four years ago to save my fifteen-year-old ass from a doped-up, hairy tramp who looked like he could star in a remake of The Wolfman. Seriously, the man had paws with claws. Although, to be fair, that was probably my hysteria.

“And this time you’re the one attacking me,” he says in mock disapproval. “So much for gratitude.”

I meet his eyes, melting a little under his steady, crush-worthy gaze. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Neither was I,” he admits in a voice that’s deeper than I remember. Not to mention slightly rougher in a sexy movie guy sort of way.

He cocks his head. “Something on your mind?” His smile is slow, and there’s an intensity to his gaze that makes me want to step closer and run in the opposite direction, all at the same time.

“No,” I say, probably too quickly. “I just realized you never told me your name.”

“Chase,” he says, this time extending his hand. I take it, and though I’m sure it must be my imagination, I feel a delicious sizzle all over me. Like dancing in a lightning storm.

His fingers linger on mine a beat longer than necessary, and my heart does a little fluttering thing. “Gage Chasen,” he says, releasing my hand. “But everyone calls me Chase.”

“Nice to see you, Chase. Grad school? Or are you taking the slow boat to an undergrad degree?”

His mouth quirks in a smile that I really shouldn’t think of as sexy. Except, yeah, that’s how I’m thinking of it.