Page 37 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

He turned to face her, one hand resting against the small of her back, the other gently holding her hand.

His touch was feather-light, reverent, as though he feared she were made of glass.

Thalia looked up into his eyes and nearly forgot how to breathe.

They swirled with soft starlight, pale blue with hints of silver and something ancient.

Something that felt like it had always belonged to her.

They moved in slow circles, his steps graceful, fluid as though he had danced these very steps a hundred lifetimes and remembered them all.

Thalia followed, unsure of herself at first, until she realized he was guiding her not just with his hands but with the weight of his gaze, the rhythm of his breath.

He moved as if she were music. She let herself be pulled into it.

Her heart pounded as she leaned into him, letting the scent of his skin, cedarwood and pine, wrap around her like a cloak. Everything about him felt right. Familiar. Her soul curled toward him like a flower toward the sun.

“I never imagined this,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

“What?” she whispered.

“That I’d dance with you. That I’d touch you.” His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “In dreams, you always vanished before I could. You’d slip through my fingers like mist. But now…”

She looked up at him, unable to speak. Her throat thickened with emotion.

“There’s a thread between us,” he said softly. “I felt it the moment your name reached me. Even before I saw your face. I knew you were real. I just didn’t know how beautiful you would be.”

Her chest ached. “Caelum…”

“I know it’s impossible,” he said, almost to himself. “I know I shouldn’t hope. But I do. Every time I see you, I hope for more.”

Thalia felt the words burn through her. She had no idea what to say, what to feel. She was lightheaded, her emotions a flood, but there was no fear. No resistance. Only the deep resolute certainty that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her temple.

“I would wait another thousand years just to hold you like this again.”

She closed her eyes. The music swelled, the wind catching her hair, the warmth of him anchoring her like gravity. For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t spiralling. She wasn’t questioning. She was just… his.

They danced in silence for a while. The crowd around them thinned as the song came to an end, replaced by a more jubilant tune that sent other couples spinning away in faster circles. Caelum didn’t move.

“Would you… walk with me?” he asked again, quieter this time, like it mattered more now.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kept her hand in his as they slipped away from the dancing crowds, into the side streets where soft lights and enchanted orbs lit the cobblestones. Flowering vines crawled up the walls. Magic hung in the air like dew.

Thalia realized, as they walked in peaceful silence, that her shoulders weren’t tight. Her thoughts weren’t racing. She felt… safe. Like nothing outside this moment could touch her.

He glanced down at her with a half-smile. “You looked less like a healer apprentice tonight and more like someone about to conquer the world.”

She snorted. “That’s because Marand picked out my outfit. I feel like if I breathe too hard, the whole thing will fall off.”

His grin widened. “Then I’ll do my best to keep things very serious and entirely uneventful.”

She shot him a look. “That’d be a first.”

“Oh, cruel.”

They reached a quiet courtyard lit by floating lanterns, the breeze warm and scented with sweet citrus and smoke. Thalia paused beneath one of the trees, gazing up at the lanterns above.

Caelum leaned against the low stone wall beside her. “So You’re smart, stubborn, beautiful, and brave. Tell me something unimpressive about you.”

She laughed. “I’m not impressive at all. I once got lost trying to find the back door of my own house. And I talk to my cat like she’s an old, grumpy aunt.”

“You have a cat?”

“Tansy. She’s opinionated and judgmental, and I’m fairly sure she thinks I’m her servant.”

Caelum grinned. “A true queen.”

“She’d agree.”

“I’d like to meet her,” he said softly.

That made her chest tighten. Gods, what is this? she thought. He wasn’t hers. Couldn’t be. He wasn’t even real in the way the rest of the world was. Yet she wanted him to meet her cat. She wanted to show him her world.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said suddenly.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “Not even a little.”

Caelum’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, the quiet between them stretching but never uncomfortable. His expression softened, the playful spark dimming to something more thoughtful.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, tilting her head.

“That this may be the first time in centuries I’ve felt… normal,” he murmured.

“Normal?” she echoed with a faint smile. “That’s a pretty low bar.”

He chuckled, but it faded quickly. “When you’ve been alone as long as I have, even a moment of normality feels extraordinary.”

Thalia looked down, her fingers brushing over the stone wall’s edge. “Do you ever get used to it? Being trapped?”

He exhaled slowly. “You stop feeling hope the way you used to. It dulls. Like the edges of a blade left in the rain.” His voice grew quieter. “But then you appeared. And I remembered what it felt like… to want again.”

Thalia’s throat tightened, her eyes burning.

“I want to know everything about you,” he said suddenly, gently. “Where you’re from, what you love. What your sky looks like when the stars come out.”

She smiled through the ache in her chest. “Small village. Endless green fields. My mother has a garden she talks to like it’s a sentient being. My father tells the same five stories every time he drinks sweet wine. My sky? It’s big. The kind of big that makes you feel small and safe all at once.”

He closed his eyes briefly, like he was painting the image in his mind. “It sounds like a place I would’ve liked.”

“You would’ve,” she said quietly. “You would’ve fit in. Maybe too well. My mother would’ve tried to marry me off to you the second she saw you .”

Heat rushed up her cheeks, why did she just say that .

He laughed, a warm, genuine sound and leaned closer, resting one arm on the wall beside her. “Would you have let her?”

Thalia blinked. “What?”

“If your mother tried to marry us off,” he said with a mischievous glint, “would you have gone along with it? Or run for the hills?”

She looked at him, heat rising to her cheeks. “I don’t know. I think I might’ve let her.”

The air between them thickened, turning electric. His smile faded, replaced by something more serious.

“I wish I could take you home,” he said quietly. “Show you, my world. The real one. Before everything fell apart.”

She watched his face closely. “Do you miss it?”

“With every breath I take.”

He stepped back slightly and lifted a hand toward the sky. “There was a forest near the edge of our realm. The trees glowed at night. Their leaves caught starlight and reflected it like glass. It was sacred. We used to go there before battles. Just to remember what we were fighting for.”

She could almost see it. The way he spoke, the distant look in his eyes, it was like touching a memory that didn’t belong to her but felt painfully familiar.

“I’d like to see it someday,” she said softly.

He met her gaze again. “I want you to.”

The breeze picked up around them, rustling the vines overhead. Lanternlight flickered across his features, making him look almost unreal.

“I don’t understand this,” Thalia admitted. “You. Me. Why I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

He stepped closer again, just enough that she could feel the heat of him. His hand brushed against hers, hesitant, testing.

“Maybe some part of you has,” he murmured. “Or maybe… some things don’t need to be understood to be true.”

She didn’t know what to say. But she didn’t pull her hand away.

They stood like that for a long time. Silent.

Close. The world shrinking around them Caelum’s hand lifted, featherlight, brushing a lock of hair behind Thalia’s ear.

His fingertips lingered just a moment longer than they needed to, and his gaze dropped to her lips.

Her hands shook gently. Slowly, so slowly that she could’ve stepped back if she wanted to, he leaned in.

Her heart slammed in her chest. The air thickened around her.

For a terrifying moment, all she could think of was light.

Blinding, hot light exploding like a starburst between her and Vaelith.

The way her body had sparked with magic, the way he’d been thrown across the room like a ragdoll.

She flinched. It wasn’t big. Barely a step. But it was enough. Caelum froze.

His face shifted immediately, surprise, confusion, then the soft crumpling of hurt beneath his steady exterior. He pulled back, giving her space.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I thought…”

“No..it’s not—” she rushed, shaking her head, hands half-lifted in panic. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just, gods, this is stupid.”

His expression gentled, though there was a flicker of sadness in his gaze. “Is it because of your… complicated situation?”

“What?” Her heart skipped. “No! I mean—yes. No. Sort of. Not really. It’s not about him, ” She groaned, covering her face with both hands. “Oh gods, I sound like a lunatic.”

He tilted his head slightly, waiting, kind, patient, but watching her closely.

Thalia let her hands drop, the air burning around her from embarrassment. “There was this… moment. With Vaelith. I didn’t plan it, I didn’t mean for it to happen—things just… escalated.”

Caelum’s jaw tensed, but he said nothing.