Page 68 of Ex Somnis

I drag in a breath and stay completely still, listening to the old pipes hum somewhere in the walls and rain tapping faintly against the windows.

Oh, thank God.

I made it out.

Then I remember Tessa’s face when I let go of her, the labored breathing Lucien made me listen to, and the panic returns instantly.

I sit up too fast, my pulse hammering.

Ridge.

I need Ridge.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, barely registering the cold floor through my socks as I stand. The apartment looks exactly the same as when I left it with open suitcases, clothes everywhere, and Mr. Muffin listing crookedly against the yellow pillow. I snatch my cardigan off the floor and shove my arms into it while heading for the door.

Ridge is ten feet away.

I don’t care if it’s early or that he’s probably furious at me for leaving. I don’t care about any of it because Tessa can’t breathe, and I know things now that he needs to know so he can help me.

I yank the door open and walk directly into him.

I stumble back hard enough that my shoulder clips the wall.

Lucien is standing in my doorway as if he belongs there. Hands in his pockets, green eyes fixed on me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost looks sad.

My stomach drops.

No.

No, no, no.

I look down at my hands.

Breadsticks.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

“You really thought it would be that easy?” he asks softly.

“I mean,” I force myself to straighten. “Yeah.”

A faint smile pulls at his mouth.

“You’re back in your subconscious.” He steps past me into the apartment without waiting for permission. “But all you managed to do was strand yourself in the in-between.”

“No. I just have to wake up.”

His gaze slides over me slowly enough to make heat creep up the back of my neck despite the fear crawling through me.

“Go ahead then.”

I hate how calm he sounds.

I close my eyes and instinctively reach for that membrane between dreaming and waking I’ve learned to recognize. I push against it hard enough to make my chest ache.

Nothing.

I open my eyes. He’s still there. So is my apartment.