Page 72 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

“We should get you inside,” Chase says, taking my elbow and leading me toward the dorm. But I don’t want the night to end with another interrupted conversation and another wall between us. So as he holds the door open for me, I draw in a breath and blurt, “Walk me to my room?”

He hesitates, then nods, and we make our way through the lobby and up to the third floor. The hallway is empty, most students either asleep or out at late-night study sessions.

When we reach my door, I turn to face him, hyper-aware of how close we’re standing in the narrow hallway. And how much closer I want to be.

“Thank you,” I say, suddenly shy despite my earlier boldness. “For tonight, for the training, for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me for doing my job.”

I tilt my head, studying his face. “So that’s all this is? Your job?”

“You know it’s not.” His words are whisper soft. He reaches out, then runs a lock of my hair through his fingers. “It stopped being just a job a long time ago.”

My heart skips at the confession. “When?”

“The first time I saw you in the Nightmare Realm. You were fifteen, having a particularly brutal nightmare after losing your mother. You were so scared—surrounded by monsters—but you never gave up, never stopped looking for a way out.” His voice grows soft with memory. “I was there just to observe. To gather intelligence about your developing abilities. But when I saw you in danger…”

“You couldn’t help yourself,” I finish, a tease in my voice to lighten the moment and settle the butterflies in my stomach.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.” His voice is low. Raw. And the butterflies start dancing again. I take a step closer.

“Chase,” I whisper.

“This is a bad idea,” he says, but he doesn’t move away.

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to—well, I’m not supposed to complicate your life—or mine, for that matter—with…” He gestures vaguely between us.

“With what? Feelings?”

“Pretty much.”

“What if they make you fight harder to keep me safe?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. More like irony. “You don’t understand the position you’re in, Cora. The forces that want to use you, the power you represent.”

“No,” I say, rising on my toes. “I don’t.” And then I press my lips to his. Way bolder than I’ve ever been in my life, but it feels really, really good.

For a moment, he freezes, caught between surprise and desire. Then his arms come around me, pulling me flush against him as he deepens the kiss with a hunger that confirms he’s been thinking about this as much as I have.

His lips are warm and sure, moving against mine with a passion that makes my knees weak. And that sizzle that’s always between us explodes into something much more intense, tingling through my entire body and leaving me breathless.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.

“Cora,” he murmurs against my forehead, his voice rough with emotion. “We shouldn’t⁠—”

“No,” I fist my hand in his shirt. “Don’t say it. Don’t back off when neither of us wants you to.”

“Dammit, Cora⁠—”

I press a fingertip to his lips, then speak before I can talk myself out of it. “I know it’s complicated. I know there are things you’re not telling me, dangers I don’t understand. But Chase…whatever happens—whatever we have to face—I don’t want to face it wondering what this could have been.”

He closes his eyes and draws a breath, and in the seconds that pass, my heart pounds so hard I think it’ll break a rib. Then he looks at me, his golden eyes searching my face. “I’m trying to find the words to say no. But dammit, Cora. I can’t.”

Then he’s kissing me again, softer this time but no less intense. When we part, we’re both breathing hard.

“We’ll figure this out,” he promises. “Whatever it takes, whatever the cost—I won’t let anything happen to you.”