Page 78 of When Storms Collide

It was time to go.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

WAKE UP!

He pushed the sheer robe back from her shoulder, revealing a patch of bare, tanned skin. His mouth explored her decolletage, her neck, finding her mouth once more.

WAKE UP!

I shot up in bed with a start, sweat coating my back, my nightgown stuck to me in every place it touched my skin. I placed a hand over my chest, slowing my breathing.

The Araneoch.

They could turn the tides of the battle, and I needed to find out where they were. Needed to find out how many of them she had created. I needed to do more research on dream walking, and I needed to do itnow.

I stood from the bed, wrapping a black robe around me. Despite the sweat coating my skin, a chill had settled in my bones. I slid a pair of slippers over my bare feet, treading out into the hallway. The torches were doused, the darkness clinging to the hallway in a menacing way.

It had to be the middle of the night.

I traced along the stone walls until I reached the library door, pulling it open and descending into the shadows. I found the table I had been working at yesterday by almost crashing into it, stubbing my toe in the process. I swore, rubbing at it until the sting dulled. I grabbed around blindly for the lantern on the tabletop and when I finally found it I struck the match, filling the space with warm light. I sat, wrapping the robe tighter around me as I pulled the dream walking books towards the front of the table.

I opened the first one, combing through the text to find anything I could about intentionally dream walking. If I could figure out how to leave a token behind, I could dream walk anywhere I wanted in The Stone Palace. I could find out where Donika was creating and hiding her Araneoch.

Annelise would be back to the cottage underground tomorrow and we were set to train. I knew I should head back to bed and get some rest, but my dream walking had unsettled me too much. We were running out of time, and we needed all the advantage we could leverage. We needed the upper hand. I was too anxious to sleep.

My eyes were bleary with exhaustion by the time I made it to the second book. The words were smudging together on the page as I peered down in the dim lamplight. The library door squeaked open, and I jumped, the book before me knocking the lantern over. I stood quickly, grabbing it and righting it before the light was doused.

I turned to see Nikolai standing in the doorway, his blond hair disheveled, his white T-shirt crinkled from sleep.

His gaze held mine for a long moment before he spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He swallowed hard in the flickering lantern light, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his linen pants awkwardly. “It’s just— I thought I heard something… then I saw the light on.”

I nodded, falling back into the chair and sliding the lantern away from the edge of the table. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He moved forward, his gaze on my profile as I remained turned towards the table. We hadn’t been alone together since I had administered the antidote, and I wasn’t sure what to say. How to act. He had been pushing me away so thoroughly I was surprised he wouldn’t have simply turned back around and gone back to bed when he saw it was me poring over the books in the library.

All the words I wanted to say to him were stuck in the back of my throat in a lump, allowing nothing to pass my lips.

“Bad dreams?” he asked as he squatted next to the table, his hands resting on its edge.

He was close enough to me that when I turned towards him, I could see the reflection of his glacial blue eyes in the warm light, flecks of gold spattered around the iris. His eyes were heavy with lack of sleep, his brow creased.

“Something like that.” My eyes fell back to the table.

“You can tell me, Diana.” His voice sounded fragile. Brittle.

“Can I?” My gaze swung to his once more, eyes narrowing. “You have been avoiding me like the plague, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what I’ve done wrong.”

He shook his head, one hand moving from the edge of the table to grasp mine from my lap. He squeezed, his palm warm against mine.

“You did nothing wrong.” His voice was raw this time—strangled.

I shook my head. “Then why?”

“This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.” His gaze fell to our combined hands in my lap. “You can’t imagine the guilt I feel. Every moment of every day it threatens to swallow me whole.”

He was punishing himself.

“Then tell me,” I pleaded, inching towards him. “Tell me what happened. I can’t help you if you don’t let me. It eats me up inside to see you like this, Nikolai. So… fractured.”

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