Page 89 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

My heart does something complicated in my chest, and I move closer, then slide my arms around him as I look up into his eyes. “Fallen for?”

“Yeah.” His voice is rough with honesty. “Fallen hard. Completely. Hopelessly.”

The weight of that settles over me. He’s had years to fall—years of watching me fight in the Nightmare Realm, years of knowing who I was before I had any idea who he was. I’ve had days. And yet somehow, days feel like enough.

“Me too,” I admit. “And I don’t want some mystical connection to the Nightmare King to mess this up.”

“We won’t let it.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, the contact making me shiver. “This is real. It’s ours.”

When he kisses me, it tastes like promise and relief and something that defies destiny. It’s fierce and desperate, a declaration that what we feel matters more than cosmic forces. That fate has no power over love or choices.

When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard, my heart pounding with such intensity I’m surprised he can’t hear it.

“This is complicated,” I whisper.

“You are the master of understatements,” he says. “But it’s also so damn simple.”

As we walk the rest of the way to my dorm, his hand warm in mine, I can feel something settling between us. Something quiet and grounded in the certainty that whatever supernatural forces might be pulling at us, what we feel for each other is real, not pre-destined bullshit.

But even as my heart steadies with that simple truth, Adric’s silver eyes haunt my memory. The pull I’ve always felt toward him hasn’t disappeared. Not even the tiniest bit. And now all I can do is hope that whatever Chase and I are building will be strong enough to withstand what’s still yet to come.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

I’m standing in a vast library that would give the Library of Congress a run for its money, and I turn in a circle, trying to figure out how I got here.

I remember leaving Chase. I remember taking the stairs to my room. I remember gossiping with Tia about holding hands with Riley—and the uncertainty of whether that handholding was of the platonic variety or a lead-in to potential smoochies.

I remember going through my ritual to ward off dreaming.

And now here I am, looking around at shelves that stretch endlessly in all directions, reaching toward a ceiling lost in starlit darkness. The air carries the scent of aged parchment and something warmer—amber and cedar, with hints of spice that make me think of expensive cologne. Golden orbs float overhead like captive stars, casting honeyed light that turns everything dreamlike.

Because it is a dream. Of course it is.

What I don’t know is if it will turn into a nightmare. I hope not. There’s something special about this room of infinite quiet that seems to hold the whispered promise of secrets waiting to be discovered.

“You came.”

The voice sends shivers down my spine, and my breath catches when I turn to see Adric. He’s standing beside a reading table carved from what looks like black marble, one hand resting casually on its surface. The moment I see him, that familiar recognition crashes over me—the same pull I feel with Chase, and yet different. Like seeing the same constellation from a different angle. It’s confusing and thrilling and utterly wrong all at once.

Gone is the Adric I’d met in the garden. This version of him is devastating. Elegant in a way that makes my pulse stutter. He’s dressed in a black suit that seems to absorb light, fitted perfectly to his tall frame. A deep burgundy shirt shows at his throat, and the light makes the silver at his cuffs gleam.

But it’s his face that stops my thoughts entirely. Those silver eyes hold starlight flecked with gold, and, like Chase, the scar on his cheek only enhances his beauty, like a signature on a masterpiece.

“Where am I?” I ask, relieved my voice doesn’t shake.

“The Great Library of the Oneiroi.” A grin tugs at his lips. “The ancient ones,” he says. “Not that feeble society in your realm.”

He moves toward the shelves, every step deliberate. “This library is the repository of all knowledge across the five realms. And this particular manifestation exists only in dreams.” He tilts his head. “It is my gift to you.”

“Oh,” I say, fingering the herb pouch in my pocket.

“Your Hunter’s protection,” he says. His lips curve in what’s not quite a smile. “This isn’t a nightmare, Cora. I created this space for us—somewhere we could speak without interference, without fear. Somewhere beautiful.”

“What do you want?”

“Only to show you the truth.” He pulls a tome from the shelf, bound in midnight-blue leather with silver clasps. “It’s time to tell you what the Hunter never has—the complete story.”