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His deep voice floated from the shadows, sending a chill up my spine. I wondered if he had watched me change.
“It’s not polite to spy on a lady.”
“It’s hard not to when you’re all I can see.”
Flushed, I placed a hand on my chest and turned to face him.
The room was empty.
“Who are you, and why are you stalking my dreams?” I asked, taking a deep breath.
“Stalking is such a harsh word.” His voice again drifted to my ears.
“What else would you call it?” I tilted my head, trying to pinpoint his location.
“Maybe… enchanting your dreams.”
Before I could utter another word, the ceiling exploded into a thousand stars. Tiny silver lights twinkled against a black expanse, enveloping me as if I were inside the private cosmos of the gods.
“So… are you enchanted?” His voice sounded from directly behind me, his warm, featherlight breath brushing across my skin.
“Yes,” I replied. There was no reason to lie.
“Good. Then I’ll see you again tomorrow night.”
I spun around, desperate to lay eyes on him, but the room was empty once more. “At least tell me who you are,” I called out.
From the shadows drifted, “It’s time to wake up, Milly.”
I woke abruptly, the familiar scent of my cottage permeating the air. Sitting up, I rubbed my chest then startled, wrapping my arms around me as another chill raced up my spine.
Someone was here.
Squinting into the darkness, I caught a shimmer in the shadow across the room and shrank back beneath my wall of blankets, unable to move.
“Don’t worry. I’ve only come to answer your question.” His voice was the same but somehow sharper. Clearer. “They call me the Weaver.”
The Weaver? I must still be dreaming.
Emboldened more than usual, I slid from my bed and crossed the room. He remained deep within the shadows, his form slowly coming into view.
Broad-shouldered and at least a foot taller, he towered over me. But I wasn’t intimidated. I felt safe. Safe enough to lean up on my tiptoes and place my lips against his.
My elixir worked. I was in control here.
After a shocked breath, his lips began to move against mine. Strong arms encircled my waist, pulling me close. Pressed against his body, I no longer felt like myself. Like somehow I wasn’t my own person but instead a welcomed part of him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Perhaps he was becoming a part of me.
Pulling back, he inhaled sharply. “Wait. We can’t do this. It’s not allowed.”
“Says who?” my dream self boldly asked.
The shadow around us shimmered, his now-dark eyes flaring silver. Then suddenly he was gone, leaving me alone to question everything I knew—which clearly wasn’t much.
The cold press of my lips against my mirror jerked me back to reality. The wood planks beneath my feet were frigid, the fire in the hearth reduced to barely an ember. I waited for something else miraculous to happen, another shift in my dream that would bring him back. Instead, I startled when my familiar rubbed himself between my ankles, winding in and out of my legs as cats normally do.
“Jenks, what are you doing in my dream?” I picked him up and nuzzled his black fur. “You’re meant to stand guard over me, not join me.”
I focused on the room again, the space coming into sharp relief as my eyes continued to adjust in the dark. Mr. Jenkins had never entered my dreams before, and as he writhed in my arms, I realized he hadn’t still. This was not a dream. I was wide awake… and a complete fool.
