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Fuck.
I can’t help it, I reach for his hand, and despite the worry blossoming inside of me, when my fingers touch his, he turns his hand for my palm to touch his. I squeeze, trying to silently communicate how much I’m here for him, and to my surprise, he returns the gesture, warming my aching soul.
“What kind of dreams?”
“I don’t even know if they’re actually dreams, I just don’t know what else to call them,” he admits, making me frown.
“What do you mean?”
His tongue sweeps over his lips as he tries to find the right words to explain. “I think that I’m traveling to wherever they are.” My eyebrows furrow deeper as he looks at me, the question clear in my eyes so I thankfully don’t have to ask. “The Realm of Shadows.”
“The Realm of Shadows?” I repeat slowly, barely more than a whisper, as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Apparently.”
“Where is that?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “They said it, and then I woke up. Again.”
I hate to be the one to question it, but I need him to be sure. For his sake more than mine. “Do you trust in—”
“I’ve dreamed about them three times since you brought me back from the dead, Raven.”
I gape at him.
Well, fuck.
“You think it’s linked?” I ask, silently scared of the answer, and he shrugs.
“I can’t be sure,” he murmurs, but I know he feels it in his gut because Brax isn’t the kind of guy to voice his thoughts if he doesn’t believe them to be true.
“But it makes sense,” I breathe, worry clawing at my insides.
“None of it makes sense, Shadow.”
Damn. That’s fucking true.
“What are you thinking?” I ask when a couple of minutes pass. I can practically hear the cogs turning in his mind.
“I’m trying to find where I remember the mention of an emerald gate. If it can lead to the Realm of Shadows, then fuck, I could visit without being asleep. I have no control over any of it. I’m completely helpless and I’m always ripped away too soon.”
“Do you want me to look with you?” I offer. Sleep is lost on me now, just as it is on him. There’s no point pretending otherwise.
His hand tightens on mine. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I reply quickly. “Whatever you need, I’m here.” He turns to me, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly as he nods. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
He’s not. I know he’s not.
“Are you sure?” I hate that I’m pushing, but mentally berating myself isn’t working. It seems my filter doesn’t work in the midst of the twilight hour. “If there’s anything—”
“I’m good,” he interjects, and I know I deserve the blunt nudge to shut the fuck up.
Silence descends over us, but his hold on my hand doesn’t change, so I shuffle closer, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Do you still see the shadows?” he asks, catching me off guard.
