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Outside, the rain beat a rhythmic pattern against the glass. I sank deeper into the bed’s inviting softness, watching rainwater slide down the glass and the waves slam against the rocks outside. Sion crossed closer to the window and folded his arms, frowning out at the storm. “We’re exposed here.”

“Only if they’re out in the stormy sea and know where to look for us. I think we’re fine.”

My eyelids felt heavy, and they finally drifted closed. As I melted into the soft bed, sleep washed over me.

My dress clings to me,heavy and soaked from the rain from the relentless storm. I’m starving, wandering in a dark wood. I breathe in the scent of oak and damp leaves, and rain hammers down on me from above. On this cloudy, stormy night, I stumble over gnarled roots that snake over the ground.

As my eyes adjust to the dark, I see the food that I crave…blood-red berries grow from thorny brambles, and I reach for one. I pluck the fruit, my mouth watering, anticipating its sweetness. As I grab it, a thorn pricks my finger. I pull my hand away, staring at the crimson drop, a little demi-sphere on my fingertip.

But I feel the darkness moving closer, swallowing me. The air chilling to winter.

I whirl to see him moving between the dark tree trunks—the hunger in his eyes. He moves quickly as a storm wind, a streak of shadow in the night, until he’s before me. His arms cage me against the rough bark of the tree, and night slides through his eyes.

“Don’t you remember me?” he asks. “The real me?”

I stare at him, transfixed, as he takes my bleeding finger into his mouth. He licks the blood, then releases it.

Staring into my eyes, he rips the wet dress off my body, stripping me bare before him. My nipples go hard in the cool air, and I ache for him. Against the tree, he spreads my thighs, biting my throat…

Thunder jerked me awake, and my eyes snapped open. I gasped for breath, clutching the sheets close to me. The storm still darkened the sky outside, and the waves rose up high, slamming against the rocks. Rain lashed against the windows, and thunder rumbled over the horizon, rattling the glass.

When lightning flashed again, I saw Sion there—prowling on the rocks outside, his shirt soaked through with rain, keeping watch for anyone who might be coming after us. He didn’t seem to notice the storm as he patrolled.

There I was, luxuriating in the warmth under the blankets. But I couldn’t help myself. My eyes were closing, pulling me once again into the fog of sleep.

When I woke again,the rain had stopped. The waves still raged, but a few rays of sunlight had broken through the clouds. The smell of herbs coiled through the room, and I turned to see Sion carrying a cup of tea toward me, its tendrils of steam curling into the air.

“We need to get back on the road soon, sunshine. Also, your snoring was in danger of drawing the Order to us like an alarm bell.”

I glared at him, still trying to clear my mind from the depths of sleep. He handed me the tea, and it warmed my fingers. I took a deep, long sip of the hot brew.

“You made me tea.” I was still struggling to wake, not to mention struggling with the dream I’d had about him.

“And they say humans are void of keen observational skills. Perhaps next time you should be the lookout.”

“What’s in it?”

“It’s nettle, rosemary, and mint. Bran used to make me that exact blend if I ever felt down. It has a way of energizing you.”

Oh,gods,Bran really didn’t sound as terrible as I’d thought when I met him.

Sion draped himself in a nearby chair, his wet shirt still clinging to his muscles.

I sipped the tea. It didn’t take long for it to start working its magic in my system, waking me. As I drank it, my gaze roamed over Sion, to where his shirt stuck to his skin from the rain. I licked my lips, trying to forget that dream and how it had felt when he’d ripped that dress off me. I shook my head, trying to clear away the thought.

My tea spilled on my lap with the movement, scalding my thighs. I hissed. “Ow.”

Sion stared at me, unmoving. “What’s wrong with you? Even for a human, you seem particularly off right now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him over my tea. He really wasn’t terrible to look at.

My pulse was racing far too quickly.

“Why is your heart beating like you’re about to die?”

It was deeply annoying the way he was able to tell every time I felt rattled. “Nothing. Nightmares. That’s all.”

His eyebrow arched, clearly not believing me. “You dreamt I was fucking you, didn’t you?”