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My chest warmed. My heart fluttered.
I stepped toward him eagerly. I needed to touch him and feel for myself that he was one hundred percent real and he was here.
His sapphire eyes brightened. At first he opened his arms, ready to pull me into his embrace, but then he stiffened. Staggering away from me, he tucked his obsidian wings in tightly.
“No, lamb,” he whispered, his expression pained. “Don’t touch me.”
I halted, feeling like he’d doused me in icy water. I’d thought he wanted me.
He saw the hurt in my eyes, and agony distorted his gorgeous face.
“You were all over me in the dream,” I accused, lashing out as the hurt of rejection sank even deeper into my bones. “Guess you’re just a phony. I was wrong about you. I shouldn’t have sought you out.”
“You sought me out?”
“I came here for you, didn’t I?” I said bitterly.
He blinked in confusion. “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t know you were here,” I said. “But I thought of you before I teleported.”
A swirl of dark stars glimmered in his eyes. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Judging by the scorching desire etched into every line in his face, he wanted me. But then why did he want to confuse me?
I braced a hand on my hip. “I met you only once before and that was in a dream. You never told me who you are, though I asked, and then I was yanked right out of the dream.”
“I’m Héctor,” he said in sorrow and defeat. “I’m the death demigod. No one can touch me and live because my skin is lethal to everyone.”
I widened my eyes in utter shock.
My dream lover was the Demigod of Death, my supposed enemy?
He held my gaze, scrutinizing my every tiny reaction and emotion to his words, and I had the impression that he was waiting for me to run from him.
“I’m sorry, lamb, you can’t touch me.” He sighed in resignation. “We can only be with each other in a dream. If it’s good for you, that’s good enough for me. I’ll protect you day and night. You’ll be the only woman for me in dreams and in life.”
I studied the tensed line on his gorgeous face as he held his breath, expecting me to deny him.
I had defied every rule in the book.
So I was going to defy this one last, inconvenient rule.
If I could touch him in the dream, I could touch him anywhere.
The Ritual of the Blood Runes hadn’t burned me to ash, and the touch of the death demigod wouldn’t reduce me to a cracked clay statue either.
I wouldn’t accept that I could only have him in my dreams, not after I’d met him in the flesh. And no one could choose what dreams they would get on any given night. I needed more than those few lucky moments with him.
“I crave your touch more than anything,” he said, angst brimming in his eyes. “But—”
I shoved my palm against his jaw before he could stop me.
“No, lamb! What have you done?” he cried out in horror, his eyes wide with devastation.
But I didn’t drop dead.
Only a river of pleasure buzzed over my skin. His fresh stubble pricking against the heel of my palm felt delicious.
