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I flare my wings wide, blocking him from the Thief. “This isourgame,” I say, getting a little thrill at the sight of the Thief’s bloody face. “Leave him out of it.”

“I intend to,” the Thief says. There’s malicious glee in his expression, and I can see that whatever suffering he tends to inflict, it’s all for me.

“Are you trying to protect me, Callypso?” Malaki asks. I feel the brush of a hand against my wings. “Step aside. Let me gut this monster.”

The Thief laughs. “And how might you do that? You are blind to us, and it is by my grace alone that you’re uninjured.”

As I watch, the Thief’s eye repairs itself.

Jesus. How am I supposed to kill this thing if he can heal that fast?

“To think they call you Lord of Dreams,” the Thief continues, his gaze focused on Malaki. “Your bloodlines are weak these days.”

Behind me, the general says, “You will—”

Like a candle snuffing out, Malaki’s presence is suddenly gone.

It feels colder here. I hadn’t realized that even in dreams, the Thief’s magic carries traces of his depravity.

“He was getting tedious, I’m afraid.” The Thief dabs at his face, his fingers coming away bloody. “You got me in a mood. Don’t think I’ll forget this, Callypso.”

“I hope you don’t.”

I want him to remember how I hurt him.

He turns from me, heading back to his throne. When he sits and faces me again, the strange, black blood is gone, all evidence of my aggression wiped away like it never was.

I fold my wings behind me and approach him once more.

“You are either very foolish or very brave to come so close to me.”

Aetherial had said something similar to me once … back when we were this man’s prisoner.

“What do you want?” I ask, my skin dimming. “I mean, what do youreallywant?”

The Thief lounges in his chair. “What does any creature want? To live.”

Forgive me if I state the obvious, but—

“Youareliving.”

He shakes his head. “No-no-no, enchantress, I amsurviving.”

If all the carnage he’s wrought is his version ofsurviving, then I cannot imagine whatlivingentails. Only that it simply cannot happen.

I eye the Thief up and down. He appears normal enough, but he’s an oddity even amongst fae.

“Where are you from?”

He gives me an enigmatic smile. “Far, far away, enchantress. Far, far away.”

When I wakeup, Des is gone.

I sit up in bed, my hair cascading around me. For a moment, I can’t place where I am. Earth or Otherworld? My house, or Des’s?

It’s only when I catch sight of the arched windows that I remember we came back to Somnia. A balmy evening breeze blows in from outside, carrying with it the scent of flowers.

My hand slides over the empty space next to me.