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I held myself steady. I wouldn’t let my urges steer me. Not here. Not now. Even if it would’ve been so easy in the back of this carriage, wrapped up in warmth and shadows. Her skin was soft, her scent divine. She overwhelmed me, body, mind, and soul. My own personal oblivion. And since I knew she was mine forever, I could wait.

My hands drifted slowly back down her sides, then found her waist again. I pulled her closer, pressing her body flush against mine. One final kiss to her earlobe, a whisper into her skin: “Go to sleep.” Yawing, my eyes fell closed, and rested my head against the wall behind me, drifting off into whatever dreamworld awaited us.

Our world faded to black like the final frame of a film, exhaustion pulling me under in a quiet lull.

But this sleep wasn’t like the others. I wasn’t behind the wheel, no control, no awareness of body or breath. It felt like I’d been placed outside of myself, watching from the edges as a hazy vision unfolded before me. The borders of the scene bled out in soft white, but the center, clear as day.

I was no longer in the hay-lined carriage.

I stood on the balcony attached to my room in Draco’s estate. The twin moons beamed above, casting their light over the snow-covered floor. The doors stood wide open behind me, the courtyard stretching beyond the rail with its frozen fountain still managing to spill water beneath the snow. Flakes drifted from the sky like falling stars.

It was… magical. Quiet. Empty.

Until two figures began to materialize in the middle of the balcony.

A soft glow burst forward, puffing and mist twisting like ribbon, until the haze solidified. And there they stood.

Holding each other.

There was a man dressed in a white tunic and fitted brown slacks, barefoot on the snowy stone. His chestnut curls were loosely tied back into a bun, with tendrils falling along the sides of his face. That skin, light brown, warm-toned, was all so eerily familiar. It was almost like looking at myself, but I couldn’t be certain. The only clue that the second figure was a woman was the way her dress flared at the hips like a blooming flower, the fabric billowing slightly as they moved.

The man took her hand, gently, reverently, and I swore I felt the soft graze of her fingers against my own. I couldn’t even locate my body, but somehow, I could still feel it. And I was alert. Very alert.

He twirled her gracefully, spinning her into his chest. Her back pressed flush against him, and his head dipped low to kiss the slope of her neck, trailing soft, lingering touches down to her shoulder. She leaned into him, and her body, our body?, was so warm, so grounding, I nearly shuddered. The ruffles of her gown brushed against him like a whisper, sparking waves of tension through me that settled dangerously low.

She arched, pressing harder against him, and that same heat tore through my center. My breath hitched. My pulse roared in my ears. I couldn’t look away, not from the way his hands roamed down her sides, curved delicately over her breasts, and then drifted lower to her stomach and hips with reverent ease. My own fingers tingled like I’d just touched her myself. My mouth went dry.

Then the man, that man, lifted his head and turned toward me, locking eyes just long enough for a smirk to curl on his lips.

And that’s when I knew. It was me.

Or… something that wore my face.

He spun her again, catching her effortlessly as she twirled, and then pulled her into a kiss so soft, so sure, it made my chest tighten with something fierce and primal.

I stirred awake with a sharp inhale, my head shaking the sleep away. My heart was still drumming in my ears; each beat a vivid reminder of the dream I just had. Or was it a dream? My body felt tight, needy, like every nerve had been set alight. My hands still tingled with the phantom memory of her breasts in them, and the thought made my breath catch in my throat.

It felt too real.

Was it real?

I looked down to Valentina. Her eyes were still closed, a faint smile tugging at the corners. But it didn’t last. Her brow furrowed, and her expression shifted into something else, confusion. A quiet fluster. Her warm brown eyes opened and met mine. Her lips parted slightly, and her hand rose to her chest as if trying to still her heart.

We didn’t speak at first.

It was like we were both replaying something behind our eyes, something shared.

Her fingers reached up to my jaw, tracing the line slowly, teasingly. Goosebumps broke across my skin as she dragged them down.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, voice low and soft.

“I’m fine,” she replied too quickly.

I would’ve pressed her. I wanted to ask more. But the carriage door creaked open behind us, and the moment shattered. Kleitos stood in the shadows outside, brooding as ever. “We’re here,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

TAINTED| CHAPTER 32

A Reckoning