Dreams that Bleed

That first night with the caravan, I learn that distance means nothing to the bond.

We make camp in a sheltered valley where twisted stone formations provide natural cover from the wind. The crew moves with practiced efficiency, setting up tents and lighting cookfires while the Voidsteppers are unharnessed and led to graze. I help Riven prepare the evening meal—a simple stew made from dried meat and root vegetables—while trying not to constantly look toward where Kael stands on the perimeter, his silhouette dark against the dying light.

But I can feel him. Every breath, every shift of his weight, every flicker of tension when he scans the horizon for threats. The bond has become a constant hum beneath my skin, and I'm starting to understand what Thessia meant about learning to manage it.

It's not just awareness. It's need. A craving that grows stronger with each passing hour, whispering that I should go to him, touch him, close the distance that feels increasingly unbearable."You're doing it again," Riven says, nudging me with her elbow. I blink, realizing I've been staring off into space while stirring the pot. "Sorry. What?"

"Staring at him." She grins. "Not that I blame you. Cursed or not, that man is something to look at. Though I'd suggest being a bit more subtle unless you want the whole camp making bets on how long you two last before you give in to the bond." My face heats. "They're placing bets?"

"Oh, honey. They've been placing bets since Thessia announced you were moonbound." She laughs at my mortified expression. "Don't worry. Most people are rooting for you. There's something romantic about fated mates, even dangerous ones. Maybe especially dangerous ones."

"There's nothing romantic about a curse that could kill us both," I mutter.

"Isn't there?" Riven's expression turns thoughtful. "You chose to come with us. Chose to stay near him, even knowing the risk. That takes either courage or stupidity—and personally, I think it's the former." She pauses. "Besides, I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching. That's not the look of a man who wants to run away." I don't know what to say to that, so I focus on the stew instead. But her words echo in my mind long after the meal is served and cleaned up, long after I've crawled into the tent I'm sharing with Riven and two other women.

The sleeping arrangements are cramped—four bedrolls laid out in a space barely large enough for two people. But I'm grateful for the company, for the soft breathing of the others that reminds me I'm not alone in the darkness. At least, not physically. When I close my eyes, the bond pulls me under like a riptide. I'm standing in that same shadowed hall from before, the one with walls of black stone and torches burning silver. But this time, I'm not alone. Kael is there, just a few feet away, and the moment our eyes meet, I feel the bond snap taut between us. It's stronger here, in the dream-space. More visceral. I can taste it on the air—smoke and shadow and something that makes my blood run hot."You shouldn't be here," he says, but his voice lacks conviction. He's wearing the same dark clothing as in the waking world, but the mask is gone, leaving his face fully visible. Beautiful and haunted and hungry.

"I didn't choose to come," I reply, taking a step toward him. "The dream pulled me."

"The bond pulled you." He doesn't move, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flex at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach for me. "This is dangerous, Sevia. Here, in the dream-realm, there are no rules. No controls. If I lose myself—"

"Then I'll pull you back."

"You can't." His voice drops to something raw and ragged. "You don't understand what I am. What I become when the curse takes hold."

"Show me."

The words hang between us like a challenge. His eyes widen slightly, and I see the war playing out across his face—desire against restraint, want against fear. "You don't know what you're asking," he says hoarsely.

"Then tell me." I close the remaining distance until we're just inches apart, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "Stop pushing me away and just tell me the truth. All of it." For a long moment, he just stares at me. Then, slowly, he reaches up and pulls aside the collar of his shirt, revealing the mark I glimpsed in previous dreams. It's worse than I imagined.

A jagged scar cuts across his ribs, but it's not just a scar. The flesh is blackened and twisted, and within it, something glows—a deep, pulsing red light like embers in dying coals. The mark is shaped like a broken moon encircled by thorns, and as I watch, shadows writhe beneath his skin, spreading out from the mark like roots. "This is the Bloodwraith Mark," he says, his voice hollow. "My father tried to break a sacred bond, and Vorrak punished our entire bloodline for it. This curse turns emotion into hunger. The stronger I feel, the more dangerous I become. And with you…" He shakes his head. "Everything I feel is amplified a hundredfold. Your fear feeds me. Your desire feeds me. Your pain, your joy, your anger—all of it becomes fuel for the curse."

"What happens when you're fed?" I ask quietly.

"I transform." His jaw tightens. "Into something that shouldn't exist. A creature of pure shadow and need, driven by instincts I can't control. I've killed in that form. Good people. Innocent people. And each time, it becomes harder to come back." I should be horrified. Terrified. But all I feel is aching sympathy for the weight he's been carrying alone.

"And if we complete the bond?" I ask. "If we give in completely?"

"Then my curse and your gift merge." He meets my eyes, and I see the fear there, raw and terrible. "Your dreamweaving becomes reality. Anything you imagine, I can make manifest—but I'll consume your power to do it. We'd be unstoppable. For a while. Until there's nothing left of you but an empty shell, and nothing left of me but a monster."

"You don't know that," I protest. "Thessia said it might create balance"

"Thessia deals in possibilities and profit," he cuts in sharply. "I deal in certainties. And the certainty is that everyone I've ever cared about has either died or been destroyed because of what I am. I won't do that to you."

"What if I'm willing to take that risk?"

"I'm not." The finality in his voice stings, but I refuse to back down. "You don't get to decide for me, Kael. This bond—it's both of ours. Both of our lives, both of our choices."

"There is no choice!" His control cracks, and I feel the surge of power as shadows explode from his mark, coiling around us both. "Don't you understand? The moment I truly touch you, the moment I let myself want you the way I already do, it's over. There's no going back. No second chances. Just ruin."

The shadows wrap around me, but they don't hurt. They're cool and silk-soft, almost gentle despite the violence in his voice. I reach out and place my hand against his chest, right over the mark, and feel it pulse beneath my palm.

"Maybe I want to be ruined," I whisper.

His breath catches, and his hand comes up to cover mine, pressing it harder against the cursed mark. The shadows surge, responding to the contact, and I gasp as power floods through me—his power, dark and intoxicating and terrifyingly vast.

"Sevia" My name comes out strangled, desperate.

"Kiss me," I breathe.

"I can't"

"You can. Here, in the dream. Show me what it would be like. Show me what we could be." Something breaks in his expression. With a sound that's half-growl, half-groan, he pulls me against him and captures my mouth with his. The kiss is nothing like the first one. That was desperate and clumsy, two people discovering each other. This is claiming. This is conquest. His mouth moves over mine with a hunger that steals my breath, his tongue sliding past my lips to taste me thoroughly. One hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss, while the other spans my lower back, pulling me flush against the hard planes of his body. I feel the curse flare to life between us, shadows and silver light intertwining as our magic begins to merge. It's overwhelming—too much sensation, too much power, too much everything—but I don't pull away. I kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring every ounce of longing and defiance and want into the press of my lips against his. He tears his mouth from mine to trail kisses down my jaw, my throat, the sensitive spot where my pulse hammers wildly. His teeth graze my skin, and I shudder, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"This is what you do to me," he rasps against my neck. "This is what I become when I stop fighting." I can feel it—the shift in him as the Bloodwraith rises to the surface. His eyes blaze red-silver when he pulls back to look at me, and the shadows around us have grown thicker, darker, almost alive. But I'm not afraid. Because beneath the curse, beneath the monster he's so terrified of becoming, I can feel him. The man. The soul that recognizes mine.

"I'm not afraid of you," I tell him again.

"You should be." But even as he says it, his thumb traces the curve of my lower lip with devastating gentleness. "I'm going to devour you, Sevia. Piece by piece. Until there's nothing left."

"Then devour me." I catch his thumb between my teeth, and his eyes flare brighter. "But know that I'll devour you right back." He makes a sound that's pure need, and then he's kissing me again, harder this time, more demanding. His hands map my body with desperate urgency—my waist, my hips, the curve of my breast through the fabric of my dress. I arch into his touch, wanting more, wanting everything, consequences be damned. The shadows wrap around us completely now, cocooning us in darkness. I should be lost. Overwhelmed. But instead, I feel safe. Protected. Like this is exactly where I'm meant to be.

"Not yet," he groans against my mouth, even as his body contradicts the words, pressing harder against mine. "Not here. Not like this. When I take you, it'll be real. Solid. I want to feel every inch of you, hear every sound you make".

"Kael"

"I want it to mean something," he says fiercely, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. "Not just the curse. Not just the bond. I want it to be our choice." The words break something open in my chest. Because despite everything—despite the danger, the curse, the impossible odds—he's trying to protect not just my life, but my agency. My right to choose.

"It is my choice," I whisper, cupping his face in my hands. "I choose this. I choose you."

"Even knowing what I am?"

"Especially knowing what you are."

He closes his eyes, and I feel him shaking—with restraint, with want, with something that feels dangerously close to hope.

"When the Bloodmoon rises," he says finally, opening his eyes, "the curse will be at its strongest. I'll have to chain myself away from everyone. From you. It's the only way to ensure I don't hurt anyone."

"I'll be there," I say immediately.

"Sevia"

"If you're going to fight the curse alone, then I'll fight it with you. That's what the bond means, isn't it? We face it together."

"It's too dangerous"

"Everything about this is dangerous," I counter. "But I'm not leaving you to face it alone." He stares at me for a long moment, and then, impossibly, he smiles. It's a small thing, barely a curve of his lips, but it transforms his face from haunted to heartbreakingly beautiful. "You're going to be the death of me," he murmurs. "Or your salvation," I reply. "Or both." He kisses me again, softer this time, almost reverent. "I don't know how to do this. How to be with someone without destroying them."

"Then we'll figure it out together."

The dream begins to fragment around us, reality pulling us back to our separate bodies. But even as the shadows dissolve and his form becomes translucent, I feel the bond between us solidify into something stronger than before. Something that might actually survive what's coming. "Soon," he promises, his voice fading. "I swear. When the time is right."

"Soon," I echo.

And then I'm falling, tumbling back into darkness.

I wake with a gasp, my heart racing and my body flushed with heat. The tent is still dark, the other women still sleeping soundly around me. But I can feel the aftermath of the dream thrumming through my veins, as real as if it had happened in the waking world. My lips tingle. My skin feels sensitized, like I can still feel the ghost of his touch. And in my chest, the bond pulses warm and certain, a tether connecting me to where Kael keeps watch somewhere on the perimeter of camp. I can feel him awake too. Can feel the echo of the same hunger, the same desperate restraint. Soon,his presence seems to whisper. Soon, I answer back, but not tonight.

Tonight, we both fight the pull. Fight the need.

And pray that when we finally stop fighting, we'll both survive what comes next.