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I focus on Malaki once more. “Since Solstice. Why?”

“You haven’t talked about them,” he says, leaning back in his seat.

Now that I get a good moment to study Des’s friend, I realize how out of place he looks here in the palace. He’s a hulking, massive man, and with that eyepatch he looks more like a pirate than some dainty fairy.

“Should I have?” I say. “They’redreams.”

But I know better than that. Dreams are never just dreams, especially not these ones I’m having.

Malaki curses under his breath. “How long has Des known about them?”

“Since Solstice.”

The general rises from his seat, looking utterly terrifying.

“Thatfool,” he says darkly.

I don’t move, but my claws extend and my scales appear, my skin brightening just a touch. “Carefulwhat you say about my mate.” My voice is soft and dangerous.

A slight to our mate is a slight to us.

Malaki stares down at me, his gaze growing distracted as he takes me in. “Do you know why they call me Lord of Dreams?” he asks.

Dreamweaverthe Thief had called him.

“It’s because I am the best at what I do.” He doesn’t say this like he’s bragging. He states it like it’s a simple fact.

My skin dims back down. “And what is it you do?”

“I can spin dreams.”

His dark gaze pierces mine. “I design the setting, I bring in the people, I orchestrate the activities. I can pick an enemy’s mind apart this way—learn his weaknesses, discover his plans.

“Last night, for the first time ever, I met a force more powerful than my own. And not just slightly more powerful. My magic was all but useless against the Thief’s.”

The Thief of Souls told me small death was his realm.

Malaki rubs a hand down his face. “The Thief has an unhealthy obsession with you, Callypso. I didn’t understand the depth of it until tonight.”

Hearing those words come out of another’s mouth makes my flesh prick.

“Desmond admitted to me yesterday that Galleghar and the Thief of Souls share power,” Malaki says. “That they’re cobound.”

He pauses.

I wait for him to continue. The suspense has me tensing.

“Galleghar was an extremely powerful king, but from what I understand, he could never control dreams, much less slip into them. His magic lay in other, more tactical areas.”

I search Malaki’s face. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Galleghar couldn’t control dreams, he couldn’t put fairies to sleep, he couldn’t wear the skins of the dead. Whatever powers the former Night King bequeathed to the Thief, they don’t hold a candle to the ones the Thief already has.”

My heart is beating loudly. I can hear it like a drumbeat.

“We already knew the Thief of Souls was powerful,” I say.

Malaki shakes his head. “You’re not following. The Thief of Souls’ power eclipses mine—and it eclipses that of aking, a powerful one. And I fear—”