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I mean to take a purposeful stride forward, but my body betrays me, my legs wobbling, not supporting my weight.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Delfom says, gripping me by the arms and steering me to my bed. I snarl at him, try to rise once more to my feet, but he overpowers me easily, despite being a hunter, not a warrior trained.
“Sit, you fool, and let that tonic do its work. You’re no use to us or her collapsed somewhere.”
I feel unfairly affected by this injury. It is not grievous, just a small bump. I am reaping the rewards, I think, for many sunsets of not sleeping. I could curse myself for this, but before guilt and fear can twist my stomach up tight, a thought rises strong and bright in my headspace.
Delfom is right - I cannot go anywhere until the tonic has done its healing work. Until the pounding at my temple subsides and the steadiness returns to my legs.
But that only applies to the part of me that is in the waking world.
“I will stay,” I say. “In case she returns for her sisters.”
“A good plan,” Razhan says, a relieved glance passing between him and Delfom. Then he grips my shoulder tight. “We will find her, brother. There are no rains to stop us looking this time.”
“I know we will,” I say. “Go.”
They hurry off. When I can no longer hear their footsteps, I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes.
I know the human females are not always comfortable in the dreamspace. But Lina joined Gregar and Liv over great distances so that he might save her and the others. I pray that my goddess will do the same for me.
Join me to my female’s headspace.
While the others look for her in the waking world, let me find her in dreams.
* * *
I come to awareness in a travel tent, much as my mated brothers have described as the setting for their dreamspaces. My heartspace thunders and I send out prayers of my deep gratitude to Lina for bringing me here.
I’m sitting on the floor, layers of thick pelts beneath me, the kind of luxurious travel arrangements I wish we had instead of the Mercenia hut. The air is the warm of the approaching hot season, a fire crackling in one corner of the tent keeping everything pleasant and cosy. It smells of wood-smoke and spice and something feminine that I draw deep into my lungs.
I rise to my feet. The dizziness of the waking world does not follow me here, and I probe at my temple with my fingers, finding no blood or bruising. Good. I do not wish to present to my linasha as a male less than capable of taking care of himself, never mind her.
She is lying on the opposite side of the travel tent, curled up in her own nest of pelts, knees tucked close to her chin as if she does not wish to take up much space. She looks as she did in thepodin some ways, but in others she is much changed. Her expression is softer. A natural sleep, not a forced, frozen one. When she comes to, she does so carefully, stretching her limbs out slowly, as if she expects to meet resistance. Tucked away somewhere tight in the waking world, perhaps. Sheltering in some small cave.
I see the moment she realises she is here in the dreamspace and not where she laid down her head to sleep, for her eyes snap open, darting from side to side as she takes in her surroundings.
“What the fuck?” she says, bolting upright.
I am careful to move slowly, stepping towards her with great caution, hands raised in submission.
“Be at ease,” I say, keeping my voice low and gentle. “You are safe here.”
She is on her feet in a moment, a small blade in her hand. It is barely enough to eat a meal with - not a good weapon of attack or defence - but she grips it, the muscles in her forearms tight and ready. My cock stirs in my leathers at the sight of her. So fierce and brave in the face of all that must be so confusing and frightening to her.
I will keep you safe, I wish to promise her. You have no need to fear anything once I have found you.
Did you not make similar promises to Sam?
Hearing that needling voice sends a jolt down my spine. Bad enough that it plagues me in the waking world. For it to follow me here feels worse, somehow, a wrongness troubling my spirit. I try to push it down, as I always do, but though it quiets, I can still feel it at the edges of me, waiting to strike.
Focus, I think. Your linasha needs you.
I remain where I am, keeping my hands up, trying to smile at her in a way that is reassuring. After a moment, she lowers her blade, her shoulders relaxing. She is wearing a plain top that fits snuggly about her shoulders and across her chest, allowing me to see every little movement of her muscles beneath it. The sleeves are stretched tight around her upper arms, accentuating her strength. Desire stirs low in my belly, and I cannot help but wonder how it will feel to have those strong arms wrapped around me.
“I’m dreaming,” she says, and there is question and certainty in her tone, both.
“Yes, linasha. This is the dreamspace.”
