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Des. It’s Des’s voice at my back.

“Enjoy each small death you have left,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m coming for you.”

And then he slits my throat.

***

I gasp awake, my body tangled in sheets, a strong set of arms around me.

Predawn light filters into the room through the window, casting everything in shades of blue. It’s so very different from the darkness of my dream.

I glance up, into Des’s soft silver eyes, and my heart nearly stops.

My ear still tingles where he spoke to me seconds ago, and I swear I still feel the phantom prick of pain across my throat from his blade.

His eyes widen just a smidge at my reaction. “Cherub, are you…afraidof me?”

I swallow down the lump in my throat, not wanting to answer.

It was just a dream, and yet…and yet it feltreal.

What had Des told me a while back?Dreams are never just dreams.

He searches my face a bit more. “Youare.”

Des runs his hand over my bracelet. “Why are you so scared of me?” The moment he asks the question, Des’s magic settles over my shoulders, and I don’t need to look down at my wrist to know that yet another bead is now missing from it.

I get up from the bed, dragging a bedsheet with me.

“It was just a dream,” I answer.

Not good enough. The magic is still there, still pressing down on me.

“And?” Des says, also aware I’m under the grip of his magic.

I clutch my throat. “And in it, you killed me.” The answer is good enough to release me from Des’s power.

He lounges back in our bed, his face brooding. My eyes drift to his sleep-tousled hair and his bare chest. It’s an odd sensation, to be both frightened by and drawn to someone at the same time, but I am.

“Callie,” he says, seeing me fighting my impulses, “come here.”

I hesitate, and I swear that momentary pause breaks something in my mate.

His voice drops lower. “It’s okay. I would never—” He falters. “I wouldneverharm you,” he finishes.

And now I feel like a royal schmuck. I know he would never harm me. He’s the part of my soul that lives outside my body.

I pad over to him. He gets up from the bed, all six plus feet of him staggering,intimidating.

He steps up to me then folds me into a hug. The presence that in my dream had felt so hateful now feels immensely loving. The muscles that were used to kill me are now here comforting me.

“Tell me everything about your dream,” he says.

And I do.

By the time I’m done, my unshakable mate looks…worried.

“What is it?” I ask.