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Her vision adjusted slowly as she looked over the room. She could see the walls were dark but couldn’t make them out yet. She glanced over the large four post bed, draped in dark silk. She knew this bed. This was fang’s bed.
Even her perfect dark-blooded man was still a typical dark-blood underneath. Excessive and wasteful. This bed could fit four people easily. No one needed this much room. And silk? The sheets alone would cost more than she made each month selling her potions and ointments.
Faye thought back, remembering she decided to take a nap at the hot spring. But she felt awake here. Faye could hear Sparrow’s teasing voice.Maybe the Shadow Prince is poaching you.
The thought sent a chill up her spine. She cast it away. She wasn’t being poached. She was an Anarian, nothing worth poaching. And even if they did want something, they wouldn’t leave her aware. She would be dreaming of fangs right now, not alone in his bed.
Faye sat up on her heels. Dressed in her swimsuit, but she wasn’t cold. The weight on her back didn’t slide off. Shifting her shoulders, her eyes widened.
She had wings. Real wings. They were like Vashien’s but smaller, and the scales shimmered in whites, greens, and purples. Faye bounced on the bed, pumping her wings. She disturbed the air around her, tossing her hair wildly. She had to tell Sparrow about this.
Faye’s vision cleared enough to see the rest of the room. The curved walls were made of a swirling mist that churned constantly. Tendrils of sharp, glowing purple twisted inside it, illuminating its depths.
She remembered this place. Faye crawled to the edge of the bed, spotting white sand that covered the floor. This was one of her dreams. She slept as he held her in his arms. She could almost feel him running his fingers through her hair while she rested her head on his chest. His heartbeat lulling her to sleep. The simple act meant so much to her. He cherished her.
She wouldn’t mind curling up to him now.
Faye half expected him to appear in bed next to her. Wasn’t that how lucid dreams worked?
She glanced at the empty side of the bed, running her fingertips along the sheets. Her claws snagged the material, lifting it as she pulled her hand away.
Faye tested the points of her claws and straightened.
A man stood inches from her, beside the bed.
She gasped, stopping short of swiping her new claws at him.
He glanced at her hand before pinning her with his gaze. “Apologies.”
Darkness, his voice. It was deep with an accent she couldn’t place. This lucid dreaming was amazing. These weren’t flashes of moments or glimpses of him. She could actually see him. He was tall, dressed in a tailored black suit. His long white-blonde hair hung loosely around him.
His eyes were different, a clear, piercing blue. No trace of the black crimson that covered his eyes during the other dreams or the shadows that swayed beneath them. He was still nice to look at. His sharp jawline, straight nose, and those kissable lips.
Without his bad eyeliner, he seemed… tame.
His gaze lowered over her body for a moment. The corner of his mouth lifted as he met her gaze. He didn’t stop at her bare index finger or ask her what court she belonged to. He didn’t see what she lacked. He saw her.
Wanted her.
She pulled him to her by his jacket. Her lips met his in an urgent kiss. In those first moments, he didn’t respond. His rejection stung her, cutting deeper than she expected.
Faye pulled away, but he followed, moving with her in a fluid motion. She stared at him as he leaned closer. His lids slid closed, and their lips touched. He met her with a slower, soft kiss. Pulling her in, holding her against the hard planes of his body. His fingertips traced over her lower back. She parted her lips for him as he kissed her with short, languid strokes.
Darkness, he felt so right. His scent of amber and sandalwood caressed her senses. He was made for her. Her perfect, dark-blooded man. Faye closed her eyes, losing herself in the feel of him.
She’d kissed a handful of boys and a few men before she invoked her blood. None of them compared. They’d all wanted something from her, something she could offer. Faye never gave in, knowing once they took what they wanted, they would discard the rest.
When fangs held her, she felt their connection, a tangible bond between them. She was all he saw, and for once, she wasn’t lacking. With him, she was enough.
A small part of her knew the only reason he looked at her with such reverie was because she made him up. Men like him didn’t exist. Faye shoved the nagging voice down. She was dreaming. This was real enough.
He slowed, sliding his hand into her hair as his thumb traced her jaw. “Tell me your name.” He rasped between kisses.
Faye pulled him closer, deepening the kiss as she rolled her hips. “You’re overdressed fangs.”
He chuckled, smiling against her lips. “Am I?”
She brushed her hand down the front of his throat, petting his chest. His muscles tightened and flexed as he pulled off his jacket. She fought the urge to sink her claws into those hard muscles and pull him to her. She wanted him closer. Needed more of him.
