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Just this once, she would allow herself to forget who he was — whoshewas — and rest in the comfort of his embrace.

“I dream of darkness, I dream of death,” Jaren answered slowly. “I dream of you falling from that tower and me not catching you in time. I dream of you walking into the crematorium and never coming back out. I dream of — of —” He swallowed. “I dream of finding you at the bottom of the quarry, not breathing.” He shuddered against her. “I dream of you dying, over and over, while I just stand there, watching.”

His words prompted flashes of Kiva’s own nightmare.

Falling.

Burning.

Drowning.

But also the soul-destroying darkness of the Abyss. And —

“I saw you getting whipped.”

The words left her without her permission.

Jaren turned as still as a statue.

After the day she’d had, everything she’d heard, everything she’d felt — and was currently feeling — Kiva’s guard was completely torn away. Because of that, she couldn’t keep from continuing, “It was my fault. You — You saved me, and he — hehurtyou.” Her throat caught, making a jagged, painful sound.

“Sweetheart,” Jaren murmured, kissing her temple.

She melted into him. She couldn’t help it.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the apology coming from deep within her. “I never said it to you before. I should have said it to you before.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I didn’t say thank you, either,” Kiva went on, not hearing him. She was still half asleep, her words tumbling from her lips without thought. “You saved my life, and I never said thank you. I — I was so angry that you’d lied to me, but you still — you stillsavedme. I’m alive because of you.” Her voice became hoarse. “What kind of person doesn’t say thank you?”

A comforting stroke of Jaren’s fingers. “I’m sure you thanked me.”

“I didn’t,” she argued, gripping him tighter. “Ididn’t.”

“All right, then you’re saying it now,” Jaren said, his tone pacifying.

“I should have said it sooner.”

“You’re saying it now,” Jaren repeated.

Kiva fell silent, emotion simmering within her. Her nightmare had left her raw. She was feeling so much — too much. Everything she’d been trying to bury for six weeks, forten years,was rising to the surface.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, the words breaking.

“You already said that, beautiful,” Jaren whispered back, gathering her closer.

But this time, Kiva wasn’t apologizing for what had already happened.

She was apologizing for what lay ahead.

And as Jaren continued to hold her, promising he would stay until she fell back to sleep, she knew she was in more danger than ever before.

Because she didn’t want to let him go.

And she wasn’t sure if she ever would.

When Kiva woke in the morning, there was a prince in her bedroom — but it wasn’t the same prince who had stayed with her after her nightmare until she’d eventually dozed off in his arms.