Page 13 of The Banshee and the Warlock

An urge to protect her rushes through me as she almost falls into one of the walls. Without thinking twice about it, I rush forward with more speed and strength than I think I normally possess, reaching her just as she trips.

She falls into my arms with a small shriek, and her eyes fly open, only for them to be filled with confusion.

She must have been sleepwalking.

"It's me," I whisper, hoping we've spent enough time with one another for my voice to soothe her. If she feels anything like the way I do, it stands a chance of working.

She frowns and blinks a few times as she looks up at me. "Cethin?"

I nod.

"But I'm in bed. Am I dreaming about you?" She reaches up and touches my face.

She trails her fingers over my cheek, and it makes me wonder how many times she's dreamt about me to be reacting like this. A part of me wants to find out, and to discover exactly where this could go, but I know I shouldn't take advantage of her when she's in a state like this. I don't want what isn't given freely.

I clear my throat to rid myself of the inappropriate thoughts. "You're not in bed, and this isn't a dream." I help her to her feet.

"Why am I outside?"

"I didn't kidnap you from your room, if that's what you're worried about," I half-joke, though there is a part of me worrying that she's thinking that.

She frowns. "I'm not, actually."

"I think you were sleepwalking."

"Oh. I don't think I've done that before." She sighs and rubs her temple. "Great."

"What's wrong?" I ask, leading her over to a bench.

"I was dreaming, I think. It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

"You don't really want to hear about my dreams." She looks away as she sits down.

"Anja, I want to hear it," I say softly.

"Why?"

"Because I just found you out here wandering around with no idea what was going on. I might know something that can help you."

Something like hope blooms in her eyes, and I regret saying that.

"Might," I stress.

A shiver runs down her spine. Probably because it's cold out here and she's only wearing a shirt. I shrug out of my jacket and hand it to her.

"Are you sure?" She eyes it warily.

"Please take it. You're freezing."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine," I promise. "I'm not the one walking around in my nightshirt."

She nods and slips her arms into the jacket. The sight of her in her nightshirt with only my jacket over the top makes it difficult for me to think straight, but I force myself to.

"Why are you fully dressed?" she asks.