Page 37 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

I snap the words out, then immediately regret my temper. I hate that he did that to me, but at the same time, I get that he didn’t know what to do with me. He still doesn’t. And what fresh hell will I find myself in if I break down and tell him the full truth?

“Mostly they’ve stopped now,” I lie. “This was the first time in forever.” Another lie. “I mean, I guess that’s why it freaked me out so much. One time after so long without the dreams, and then it happens in class and everyone’s staring at me, and⁠—”

But I can’t get the words out, because now I’m crying again.

“Oh, sweetie.” He moves to lean against his desk, worry etched in every line of his face as I pull myself together. His concern is so intense I feel a little twist in my gut and wonder if I should tell him the truth.

But I can’t. What if he sends me away again? What if he insists I enroll in some sort of program so that he can satisfy himself that he’s doing his uncle-ish duty, when really he’s just stepping aside so someone can yank me into a new cage, this one shared with a bunch of other mice?

I want to believe he won’t. I’m an adult now, after all. But Finn got me my scholarship. And until I graduate and get a job, he has control, dammit. Something I seem to be losing faster and faster, if the lava monsters, king, and golden-eyed warrior are any indication.

I stifle a little sob. I’m so damn tired of things happening to me. I want to fight back. But I don’t know how.

“Cora?”

“I’m fine,” I sniffle, forcing myself back to the moment. “Really, this was just a one-off. I’ve been doing great. Almost completely nightmare-free. That’s why the one in class was extra horrible.”

“Are you sure?”

I force a perky smile. Honestly, it’s a wonder my nose isn’t growing. I know I should shift topics entirely, but instead I hear myself asking, “How did Mom cope with them?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think she did. Not really. I mean, she tried different things. Sleeping pills, meditation.” He meets my eyes, and I see the sadness reflected in his. “I’m not sure any of it really helped.”

“Did she ever tell you what the dreams were about?”

“Cora, sweetheart, everyone has nightmares, and everyone’s nightmares are different.” He moves to crouch in front of me again. “They’re the mind working something out. It wasn’t a nightmare that killed your mother. It was her heart.”

“I know,” I say, though part of me wants to scream that he’s wrong. So very, very wrong. “I just want to know more about what she was going through.”

He runs a hand through his graying hair. “I never wanted you to see your mom that way. She was—let’s just say she was very stressed. A single mom, unemployed for those last few years. It got to her.”

I tilt my head, studying his face. “You thought she was losing it.”

He spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. “I thought the stress was getting to her. She talked about her dreams like they were real. Like she’d actually traveled somewhere in her sleep. Once she told me that our family was the root of some Imperial bloodline, and she was destined for great things. Oh, but not here,” he adds with a sideways grin. “In some other realm.” He says the last word with finger-quotes.

“Oh, god,” I whisper. Realm. Bloodline. Imperial. I think of King Adric with the shadowy cloak. The creatures lined up like an honor guard.

The Shadow King, ruling over a kingdom full of nightmares.

And me and my mom right in the middle of it all.

“She was spinning out, sweetie,” Finn says, as if in answer to my thoughts. “I was seriously worried about her mental health. That’s why I wanted the two of you to move here.”

“You did?”

“Yup. I think she was going to take me up on it too. But then her heart gave out.” He draws a shaky breath. “Just like your grandmother. She died in her sleep that way too. Some damned heart ailment in the maternal line that no doctor has ever managed to diagnose.”

I fight the urge to hug myself, knowing perfectly well why there’s no diagnosis.

Uncle Finn rubs his temples and sighs. “I won’t lie. I worried a bit about Cassie’s mental health, so I worried about yours too. But you’re fine, kiddo. And your heart is as sturdy as an ox.”

“Right,” I say. “I know.” I don’t bother to tell him that just because his cardiologist checked me out before the term, that doesn’t mean I’ll get a free pass when the nightmares decide to claim me.

“Everyone has nightmares,” he continues. “If they get so bad that you’re losing sleep, you let me know and we’ll see what kind of solution Professor Valdez might suggest. But you’re just a few days into college, kiddo. And I’d lay odds that at least a quarter of the freshman class is having some badass nightmares too.”

I laugh. He’s probably right about that. “Thanks,” I say, reaching for my backpack.

“What’s on your agenda tonight? Hours and hours of studying?”