Page 29 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)
T he air inside the Temple was cool and heavy, as if the very stones had absorbed the weight of centuries of whispered prayers, unfulfilled wishes, and fated destinies.
Thalia stepped across the smooth marble floors, her soft footsteps swallowed by the silence that stretched through the towering chamber.
Golden light filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting shifting blue and silver patterns onto the floors and walls, their intricate designs mimicking the same swirling symbols etched into the temple’s outer archways.
Braziers lined the vast space, their flames burning low, filling the air with the scent of smoky myrrh and sweetened incense.
Between them, the priestesses moved with slow, purposeful grace, their indigo robes flowing like dark rivers as they took their places in a perfect circle around the centre of the room.
Thalia’s chest ached, a lump forming in her throat as she took in the sheer weight of it all. The history, the faith, the hope that this place represented.
Her mother had prayed in this very temple, years ago. Begging. Pleading.
And Eshu had answered.
With that thought clawing at her, she slipped into a seat near the back of the temple, her hands clasping together tightly in her lap.
The priestesses bowed their heads, then as one, their voices joined in a sacred rhythm. It started as a low, breathy hum, barely more than a vibration in the air. A sound that settled deep in her bones, crawling through her like an unseen force. Slowly it grew.
Layer upon layer of haunting voices, wordless yet ancient, weaving into a melody that was at once soothing and unsettling. It wasn’t just sound, it was something that wrapped around the temple, filled the very space between her ribs, pressed against the walls of her mind.
Thalia’s fingers tightened against one another.
It was the same chant she had heard weeks ago, on her journey to Vertrose.
It had felt unsettling then, too.
She tried to shut out the strange pull of it, lowering her head, pressing her thoughts into a prayer.
"Eshu… if you can hear me, if you’re listening… please. Help him."
Aric’s face burned into her mind.
His soft, warm smiles, his gentle patience, the way he always laughed despite his pain.
His wife’s red-rimmed eyes, her quiet but unshakable devotion.
His little daughter, curled up in a chair too big for her, waiting for a father who might not wake up tomorrow.
"Please don’t take him away from them."
Tears stung her eyes, her chest tightening, her ribs pressing in.
"Let his daughter grow up with a loving, caring father like I did."
The ache inside her deepened, twisting in ways she hadn’t expected.
Suddenly, she wasn’t thinking about Aric anymore.
She was thinking of home.
The small stone cottage covered in vines, the smell of her mother’s bread baking, the way her father’s laughter filled every room. The way he would swing her in his arms when she was small, how he would tell her bedtime stories of great fae warriors and gods who walked the earth.
The way her mother fussed over her, how her hands always smelled of earth and lavender, how her voice was always soft and steady, even when the world felt like too much.
She missed them.
She missed them so much it made her physically hurt.
Thalia squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the heels of her palms into them, willing herself to focus, to pray harder. The chanting grew louder.
It was all-consuming now, every sound, every breath, every thought swallowed by the rising chorus of voices.
It wasn’t just in her ears anymore, it was in her head, under her skin, inside her very bones.
The flickering candlelight blurred.
The golden and blue reflections on the floor twisted like shifting water.
Her limbs felt heavy, her heart slowing, her thoughts slipping into something dreamlike, hazy, lost.
The weight of the day pressed down on her, exhaustion creeping through her limbs like an unseen tide.
Her breathing slowed.
Her eyelids drooped.
The temple’s walls faded into nothingness.
Gradually the flickering candlelight, the deep scent of incense, the rhythmic chanting of the priestesses, it all dissolved, sinking into the edges of her mind like a distant memory.
Till there was nothing but darkness and silence.
Thalia opened her eyes; she was no longer in the temple.
The air had changed- cooler, dense with moisture.
The scents of moss, bark and something faintly sweet filled her lungs.
She knew this place. The same forest she had dreamed of countless times, rendered now in the same muted palette of deep greens and pale light.
Towering trees stretched endlessly overhead, their wide canopies laced with shifting leaves that glowed faintly, like light filtered through the glass.
Everything was still. The air. The trees. The silence.
She turned slowly, breath quickening, her heart stuttering in her chest. The ground beneath her feet was soft, covered in a layer of moss that pulsed faintly, like the steady thrum of a heartbeat.
A thin mist curled around her ankles, drifting through the trees like ghostly fingers.
The stillness pressed inward, thick, and expectant.
She had been here before so many times before, just like all the others she wasn’t alone.
A few paces ahead, she could see him, half veiled in the curling mist. Tall, motionless watching her.
His eyes were unmistakable- pale blue, fixed on her with a steady, unreadable intensity.
She couldn’t move. He looked exactly like he always had, yet more vivid now.
More real. His dark hair fell just past his jaw, loose and unbound, framing his sculpted features.
He was tall even for fae, and broad shouldered.
His skin held a pale luminance in the forest light, as though the magic in this place recognised him.
He was more than beautiful, he was devastating. The prince from the portrait.
Thalia’s mind reeled. This isn't real. It can't be real.
She stared, unable to speak. His gaze held her in place, rooted her with a weight that made her feel both exposed and seen. There was recognition in his eyes- not just of her face, but of something deeper. Something that made her skin prickle.
He stepped forward, his movement fluid, impossibly graceful, as if he were part of the very air she breathed, as if the space between them was always meant to vanish.
Thalia's breath trembled as he approached. The forest remained utterly still, like it was too holding its breath. She told herself to speak, to step back, to do something- but her body refused. It was like she’d been waiting for this moment her entire life and hadn’t realised it until now.
He reached for her. His hand rose slowly, hesitantly- his fingers grazing her jaw with a touch so tender it made her knees weaken. She didn’t pull away. His hand cradled her face like she was something breakable, precious.
She didn’t wake?
His fingers traced the curve of her jaw, cupping her face so gently, so reverently.
His thumb brushed her cheek; a soft caress and light exploded around them.
Her chest rose and fell unevenly. She should have said something- demanded an explanation.
Asked if this was real if he was real- but nothing left her lips. She couldn’t seem to summon words.
A small golden glow stirred between them, soft and steady. It rose without urgency, enveloping them both in warm light that seemed to come not from the sky, but from within the very space between them.
Thalia gasped, this was impossible. Impossible.
Everything about this felt impossible, and yet no part of her recoiled. Her pulse raced, but not from fear. It was something else, something deeper, she couldn't put it into words or explain.
It just felt right.
She stared up at him, eyes wide.
“I don't understand?” “Who are you? “
He didn't answer right away. His eyes searched hers- not demanding, not invasive, but deliberate. His fingers lingered brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His smile was soft, beautiful yet tinged with something like sadness.
“I am Caelum "he said finally, voice low, shaped with clarity and calm.
“Prince of the Forgotten Realms”
She stared at him stunned. The words echoed in her mind, but they didn’t make sense. The title meant nothing to her. She frowned” That’s not possible”
“This... can’t be real.” She stepped back “I’m dreaming. I have to be. My mind is just ... I was tired. I was praying.”
“You already know that it is” he replied. His hand slipped away from her face with a slow, deliberate grace.
“you’ve seen this place. Me. Over and over”
“Yes, in dreams” her voice sounded distant to her own ears” That doesn’t make it real”
Caelum’s smile deepened, but it didn’t mock her. It was knowing, gentle.
“It is a dream” “but it’s also real”
His gaze held hers “Not all dreams are illusions”
“This doesn’t make sense”
“Not yet” he said softly “But it will”
He took another step closer, gaze flickering across her face as if searching for something lost.
“I’ve watched you Thalia, Dream after dream. You never saw me, not fully, but I was always there”
The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.
“I - how do you know my name?” Her voice cracked “Why do you say it like that?”
His thumb brushed her cheek again, reverent, grounding.
“Because I’ve always known you”
Thalia’s heart pounded painfully in her chest.
This is insane. But it didn't feel insane. It felt terrifyingly right.
Her thoughts were spiralling. The prince in the illustration. The recurring dreams, this forest, him. It all pressed in at once, too much, too fast. She forced a breath through her lungs.
“If this is real” she murmured searching his face “then ... how?” her voice shook. “Why can I hear you now? Why can I touch you? Every time before, I woke up the moment you reached for me”