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“I didn’t hear anything,” I lie, then turn back to the portfolio I was flipping through a few moments ago.

Lucifer had sent one to each of us, hoping to entice us to select potential Hell Fae Brides for ourselves. All of the Hell kingdoms are celebrating, and I feel like I should be, too.

This is my chance to stop the starvation. Stop the famine.

Stop the fighting.

Lucifer listened. He’s trying to fix the problems. He’s a good ruler, and if I told him it wasn’t good enough, I’d be the ungrateful asshole that half the Strigoi paint me out to be.

Between the famine, the rising animosity among rival bloodlines, and the hunger that has been consuming me, a mate would be a welcome solution. I could relieve my withered father from the throne and start a new generation. The magic of a new Strigoi child royal would rejuvenate our lands.

Which is precisely the reason war is on our doorstep. I haven’t taken a mate yet.

Mostly because none appeal to me. I can’t mate with just any female. It has to be a true soul connection down to the compatibility of our blood and our dreams, or else my body will reject her if I continue to feed.

This isn’t something I can fake.

It has to be real.

I scan the portfolio again, hoping that one of the candidates will stand out to me. Many of the females are half-human, though not all of them are. That is my only requirement, as far as I’m aware.

I scan the genetic labels next to each pretty face’s name.

Human–Hell Fae hybrid.

Human–Fortune Fae–Elemental Fae mix.

Lunar Fae–Midnight Fae–human mix.

I mentally cross the last one out. She’s not only lacking mortal blood, being just one-third human, but the Midnight Fae are true vampires, unlike our dreamwalking hybrid version of them. I’m not looking for another mouth to feed when it comes to the blood fields.

Lucifer is just being thorough, so he had all potential candidates included. And he knows the Strigoi have special needs, like all hybrids do, so a small blood sample has been placed on each page next to the names. I’m not sure if I want to know how he obtained those.

But none of the samples call to me. I gently press my tongue to the spot of one red splotch, then make a face.

If I want a bride that tastes like overripe fruit, then that’s the one.

Cage has silently moved to my side of the bed and yanks the portfolio out of my hands.

“Sabre.” He says my name like a curse. “What the fuck are you doing? You’re going to tell me you didn’t hear that?

That you didn’t see it? It’s gone now, but there was something weird in the dream plane. Everything was… off, for a minute.”

“There was nothing,” I insist as I fling off the bedsheets, then immediately regret it.

We both stare down at my throbbing cock. The unique glands around the head and base are vibrating, and I shove my pillow onto it.

That only happens when I’m really turned on. Not all Strigoi have them. The vibrating bulbs are a Sanguinis family trait—or so my father tells me.

Proudly.

And from my experience with human females, they quite enjoy it.

Cage grins so wide I can see the glint of his own fangs coming out. “If you lie to me one more time, I’m going to fuck the truth out of you, and not in a good way. You won’t like it.”

Cage knows how to punish. That’s his thing.

And I like that about him, normally. He feels like the living and breathing consequence of my failures, and in a fucked-up way, that makes me feel better about myself.

Not that I’d ever admit that to him.

What I lack in speed that Cage has inherited from the Van Drakken line, I have in strength .

Shooting to my feet, I crest his height by a few inches and snarl at him.

I let the pillow fall as I shove him away. “You’re going to make me say it? Fine, Cage. I’m fucking starving. I need a real meal if my family is going to keep taking every scrap of energy I’ve gathered. I’m so hungry that I’m manifesting a fucking feast in the dream plane.”

My temper flares, and I know I’m going to regret my next words, but I don’t stop them from forming in my mind. I let Cage see why he should run far, far away and never look back.

I shove him again, this time against the wall, splitting the solid marble in a straight line by the force of the blow. He grunts as rubble cascades around his feet. His eyes are still bright red as he glares at me from underneath the curtain of his golden hair.

Slamming my fists on either side of his face, I snarl, letting my fangs come out to their full, horrible length. My body has half transformed into my monster form as I let my true nature peek through.

Cage annoyingly stays in control, silently judging me as he waits for me to land my final blow.

Not a physical one, but one with words. One that’ll cut deeper than my fangs ever could.

“Say it, Sabre,” he growls at me with a rumbling, ethereal sound that’s the only sign he’s fighting his monster. “Fucking say it.”

My lengthy tongue runs along his cheek. He tastes so sweet, but it’s still not right.

Not how a true mate should taste.

“You’re not doing it for me, Cage. You’re. Not. Enough .”

His entire body ripples with rage, even though we both know it to be true.

“You didn’t manifest that scream in the dream plane, Sabre,” he says instead.

“I heard it, too. I saw everything change for a minute, then it was gone. It was as if someone opened a window and let us see something that wasn’t there.

” His jaw flexes with frustration, one I share, because he might be right.

Or we’ve both just gone insane. “I don’t know what it was, but it was real, and that tells me there’s a soul out there worth having.

Not just for you, but for me, too. Do you know what that means, my prince? ”

He never calls me that, not unless he’s trying to rile me up.

My monster is taking over, making it hard to talk, but I snarl a response anyway. “What does it mean, my assassin?” I slither out the s ’s in the final word.

I return the favor of using his official title because that reminds him of how we met.

He tried to kill me. That was his job, the first and only hit he ever failed.

Because he fell for me and I for him, when we shouldn’t have.

Cage bravely—or stupidly—rests a hand on my shoulder in a claiming gesture. “It means we share a mate, Sabre. And she’s out there somewhere. Do you want to find her? Or do you want to waste your time with that fucking portfolio of brides not meant for us?”

Cage is delusional, but I can’t judge on that front. If I’m manifesting a mate in the dream plane, then I’m delusional, too.

“If you find another world I’m not aware of where she’s hiding from us, by all means, Cage. Fucking find it.”

I can’t look at his face anymore. I’m not sure if I’ll bite into his throat and coat this room with his blood or fuck him until he can’t walk.

Maybe both.

“I’ll find a way to escape our families,” he says instead, forcing me back to him. “Maybe you did manifest that sound, maybe not. But at the very least, we can leave .”

Now he’s speaking my language.

Leaving sounds attractive, even if it’s impossible.

There’s nowhere to go.

“I’m sick of watching you wither into darkness, my prince,” Cage continues as he presses his forehead to mine.

He’s using the title reverently now, putting me above him in our ever- changing hierarchy.

“I vow to you, this won’t be our lives—miserable and on separate sides.

” His punishing grip squeezes harder. “This won’t be our nightmare.

We will make a dream of our own—just stay with me a little bit longer. ”

Escape.

That sounds impossible, almost like a dream. But it’s more realistic than finding a mate.

Despite my skepticism, I reply, “Find it, Cage. Find a world no one knows about, and if you do, I promise you, we’ll leave.”

I’ll abandon my withering throne.

I’ll leave this damned kingdom to fight over the bloodied scraps that remain.

I’m done.

And whether or not that scream was real, I know one thing for certain.

It’ll forever haunt my dreams.

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