Page 41 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

T he Temple of Amara stood quiet beneath the violet sky, its spires gilded by the last kiss of sunlight.

The heavy wooden doors groaned softly as Thalia pushed them open, slipping into the sanctuary where the world seemed to pause between heartbeats.

The scent of lavender and smouldering resin curled in the air, thick and cloying.

Candles flickered along the walls in soft golden halos.

Shadows danced across the carved faces of the gods etched into every pillar.

Amara, eyes downcast in compassion, hands outstretched as if ready to receive the broken, and broken was exactly how Thalia felt.

She bowed her head in respect as she moved quietly through the temple, her soft boots whispering across ancient stone.

The hush within pressed at her ears. Every sound was muffled, like the world had wrapped itself in velvet.

The priestesses stood in perfect formation near the altar, hooded and still, their voices rising in low, rhythmic chant.

The song was ancient, one she couldn’t understand, but somehow still felt in her chest. Like a heartbeat beneath the surface of her skin.

As she stepped into the back row of benches and slid silently into a seat, the sense of being watched prickled at her neck again.

It wasn’t like before, not just the vague unease or the feeling of something just beyond her sight. This time it felt deliberate. Focused. Like a gaze she couldn’t meet pressing into her from somewhere unseen.

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. The chanting continued, pulsing around her like waves on a shore. Her breathing slowed. Her muscles relaxed.

Caelum, she thought, the name like a tether, a plea.

The edges of her mind blurred, gradually the noise of the temple faded. The stone beneath her became moss. The candlelight turned to moonlight. And the sound of chanting was replaced by wind through trees.

She was no longer in the Temple of Amara.

She was standing once more in the forest from her dreams. The ground was damp beneath Thalia’s feet as she sprinted through the forest, her heart hammering like a war drum.

The trees rose around her like silent sentinels, their trunks ghostly pale in the silvery light.

Fog clung low along the moss-covered ground, coiling around her ankles, tugging at her like fingers.

“Caelum!” she called, voice sharp with panic.

Only her echo answered.

Branches whipped at her arms. Leaves tangled in her hair. The muted colours of this dreamscape soft greens, cold silvers, and washed-out golds seemed to blur around her as she ran.

Where was he?

She never had to look for him before. He was always there, waiting in the clearing, just beyond the trees.

“Caelum!” Her voice cracked with desperation.

Her chest ached, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Fear, irrational panic, curled tight in her stomach.

Had something happened? Had she lost the thread between them?

“Thalia.”

The sound of her name, whispered like a blessing, she let out a sigh of relief.

Turning to the direction of his voice she took off again and stumbled into a wide clearing bathed in moonlight. Finally, she could see him, tall, radiant, heartbreakingly beautiful. Something in her chest eased.

He stood still at first, looking as though he was questioning if she was real.

She ran to him, and he caught her in his arms pulling her tight against his chest. Her hands curled into the fabric of his coat, his body warm and solid against hers.

“I couldn’t find you,” she whispered, breathless. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’ve been trying,” he murmured franticly into her hair. “Every night. I’ve reached and reached but something’s been closing you off to me.”

Thalia pulled back, just enough to look into his face. “I’ve been praying to see you every night. Hoping when I closed my eyes you would be there. I had to go to the temple. I needed to see you, Caelum.”

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I felt you tonight. Like a door unlocking. I knew you were coming.”

“I missed you,” she said, voice cracking.

“I missed you more than you can imagine,” he said, his words a whisper meant only for her.

Thalia was sure she could feel magic pulsing around them, the clearing fell achingly still as though even the stars above them were holding their breath. Finally, the weeks of built up tension coiled in her chest began to dissipate .

Caelum gently stoked her face as he guided there forehead together. touched her face.

For a moment, they didn’t speak.

There were no words to describe the loneliness she had felt or the comfort she was now experiencing just from being held by him. No words for the impossible depth of this bond, this unspoken knowing that had wrapped itself around her heart.

He was hers.

And she was his.

Even if the world hadn’t caught up yet.

Thalia leaned into his touch, her breath catching as Caelum’s fingers traced the edge of her neck slow and reverent, like he was learning all the places that make her heart skip.

His eyes, piercing pale blue and luminous in the moonlight, held hers as though they could see straight through to her soul.

“I have something to tell you," she whispered, her voice soft and a little breathless. “I’ve been searching. In the archives, the oldest texts I could get my hands on…”

Caelum’s lips curved gently. “Of course you have.”

“I found a mention,” she continued, “just a sliver of a record, but I’m sure of it. The Temple of Kek. There’s a chance it still exists, somewhere.”

His calm, serene expression changed, just for a second, a flicker of stillness took over his features, before he smiled a dazzling smile at her that made her heart stutter.

“You brilliant, relentless girl,” “You never cease to amaze me.”

Her cheeks flushed at his praise, before she could reply, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then her cheek. Then, achingly slow, the corner of her mouth.

“You’re fierce,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “You’re so clever. And gods, Thalia… you are beautiful.”

The world tipped beneath her feet. Her heart slammed in her chest, she couldn’t breathe for the longing that wrapped around her so tightly it hurt.

She tilted her head closer to his desperate to feel his lips on hers.

His kiss was slow at first, almost unsure, as though he was giving her the chance to pull away.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her steady as their mouths moved together, soft and gentle at first, then quickly growing deeper, hungrier.

Thalia moved her hands behind his head, pulling him closer.

His black hair slipping through her fingers like silk, she tugged lightly and was rewarded as he groaned into her mouth, the sound low and raw.

When they finally broke apart, they were both left breathless.

His forehead rested against hers, his voice was rough with restraint.

“If we keep going…”

“I don’t want you to stop,”

Caelum pulled back just enough to look at her. His pale eyes were burning—soft and wild all at once. “I’ve thought about this. Every night. Every moment I could feel you slipping away.”

“I’m not slipping,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her lips. “You are everything I never thought I could have. Everything I never dared to dream for.”

She kissed him again, and this time there was no caution left.

Just hunger and hope and the deep ache of two souls finally colliding.

The moss beneath them was soft as they sank to the forest floor, still wrapped in each other’s arms. The moonlight around them flickered brighter, casting Caelum’s black hair in silver glints, catching in his lashes, turning his pale eyes to starlight.

Caelum’s coat slipped from her hands, followed by his shirt, leaving him bare before her.

Thalia’s breath hitched. He looked as though he’d been sculpted by the gods themselves, broad shoulders tapering to a hard, lean waist, every inch of him honed and powerful.

His chest rose and fell, muscles taut beneath skin that gleamed softly in the light, warm and impossibly smooth beneath her fingertips.

She explored him with reverence, trailing her hands over the hard ridges of his abdomen, the deep cut of his hips, the thick, coiled strength in his arms. Each subtle shift of his body beneath her touch sent heat coiling low inside her, the promise of ancient, restrained power thrumming just beneath the surface.

She looked up to see he was watching her, his eyes heavy-lidded, dark with desire.

“You are…” He reached for her slowly, brushing hair from her face. “Thalia, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her breath trembled at the words. At the way he looked at her like she was his universe.

His hands began to move lower, slow and careful, giving her every chance to stop him. He found the ties of her dress, undoing them one by one with agonizing precision, his fingers warm against her chilled skin. The fabric loosened and slid from her shoulders, pooling around her waist.

He let out a strained breath as he took her in, eyes raking over every inch now exposed to him. “Stars above…”

Thalia flushed, suddenly shy, her arms twitching to cover herself. Caelum caught her wrists shaking his head, his expression so full of reverence she could barely breathe. “Don’t hide,” he whispered. “Please don’t hide from me.”

With trembling fingers she let the last of the fabric slip from her skin. She stood before him, completely bare, her heart thudding deep in her chest. Beneath the weight of his gaze, heated, hungry, full of desire, she didn’t feel exposed. She felt worshipped