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“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I’m trying to protect you—” He grabbed my upper arms, trying to hold me there, in the dreamworld. One hand stroked up my skin, igniting fire everywhere he touched, then gripped my throat. The world went heady and dark and sweet, the way it did when his hands were on me.
But the dreamworld was the only place he had any power now.
I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. His lips were soft above the hard line of his jaw, and his fingers relaxed around my throat. His mouth met mine, opening, and I swept my tongue against his. My body pressed against his lean, tall frame, and his hand slid down my arm to circle my waist. He deepened the kiss, losing himself in me.
Zehr was always beautiful in his own monstrous way. When his dark eyes shone like this, when his lips parted against mine, I wanted more of him. I wanted to see him soften entirely.
But I couldn’t stay. The electric hum of his magic flowered into me as we touched, and his mark on my throat blazed.
His grip had loosened, and in our dreams, we were both surrounded by shadows.
He seized me, but I flashed him a smile as I slipped through his fingers.
* * *
He wokeas I straightened in the real world, in the simple windowless servant’s room. He caught my arm. “Don’t go.”
His voice in the living world was a husky rasp, and his desperate grip was strong enough to bruise but he could barely lift his head from the pillow. There were purple circles beneath those black eyes, and I wondered if he could go on dragging himself out of the dreaming, or if he’d surrender to it entirely soon.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“What you’re planning… it’s a bad idea. You can’t bargain with Ebba.”
“If I don’t, his spirit will keep going until it kills Caldren.”
“That’s the only way to end the curse.”
I yanked my arm away from his. “I’m not losing anyone else.”
“What about me?”
“I already told you. I need you alive to save the isle.”
The Scourge were running loose, and if we didn’t turn back the curse, the isle would be overrun by zombies.
He caught my wrist again. “Don’t, Honor.” His gaze found mine. “I’m dying. Don’t let me die alone.”
“If you die alone,” I said. “It’ll be your own damn fault.”
“It’s not what Caldren wants,” he warned me. “You are clever, but chaos is timeless. Ebba has spent millennia tricking people, offering them what they want… at outrageous costs. Caldren would rather die than see you serve Ebba.”
I scoffed. “How would you know what Caldren wants?”
“I know because I need you, just as he does.” His voice was harsh, as if the words were being pulled directly out of his soul. “And I would do anything to protect you, just as he would.”
“Fuck off, Zehr.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He said the words as if he’d rehearsed them, as if he knew I wanted to hear them. It just made me more furious.
“I don’t care about that. But you hurt the people I love.” I said fiercely.
His face was proud, resolute, handsome. He didn’t care.
I wanted to make him care.
Zehr had shown me scenes between us earlier, scenes that had carried a pulse of lust. Through the bond between us, I’d experienced not just Zehr’s desire, but Zehr’s feelings when he was young and suffering.
