The fire was still there, even as she trembled from the power of it, and she ran fast as light away from the one who broke her heart.

She had at least one thing to thank Alrik for ; he had helped to make her stronger. Now she could get away from him.

Alrik was dreaming, or not really. He drifted between two worlds of consciousness, one he is aware that he was waking up, and the other still lingering in the dream world.

As a young man he used to dream in vibrant colors of scenes that always seemed cut short and never made any real sense. All they served to do was make him feel good or bad when he woke up. In that way, his dreams used to set the tone for the day. But, he hadn’t dreamt in a long time. Not since… His body jerked, fighting the thought but it came anyway, always unrelenting.

The last dream he’d had happened before Arianna’s death—before his brother took back his kingdom.

Then he had dreamed of a fantasy for what happened could never be true. He had looked like his real self, golden-skinned like his brother Telal. They stood next to each other on the dais in the kingdom’s hall. All the haute and prolitare stood in the crowd, most but not all with smiles upon their colored faces.

A somewhat familiar face was there. The succubus woman, Lily Bellum. She meant something special to his brother. That was evident from the way his brother’s eyes watched her with reverence and in the way he kept her hand tucked in his.

As his mind started to drift out of the dream, a different memory took him. The bitter sounds of Telal weeping at her death. Alrik had felt the same way seeing his Arianna die in front of him. He’d been unable to heal her. Except while there’d been two deaths that night his Arianna couldn’t be resuscitated. At least Telal got his woman back.

More strange thoughts came seemingly out of nowhere as his body drifted in the ether of sleep lightweight and floating in air.

Once upon a time, he could heal death from a person’s soul. It would only work on a fresh corpse, but that kind of mighty power ran through his veins. Using that kind of power would zap him, incapacitate him for days maybe even longer, but once in his hands he held the power to heal. No longer did he have that.

It’d died with his heart many years ago.

That didn’t mean he didn’t try when Arianna fell before him, her white gown pooling around her body, and blood spilling from her lips.

He’d leaned over her graceful body and her last words had ringed in his red-hazed, raging mind for a long time to come: “Be good, Alrik”.

He’d gone mad. He’d summoned all the magic inside him to heal her, to bring her back, but nothing happened. Not a lick of warmth had stirred inside him that accompanied a healing spell. Nothing but iciness encased him. Her breath never stuttered once, her heart didn’t beat again, not even a single palpitation.

She was dead, and it was his fault.

Not that he quite saw it that way at the time. At the time, it was Telal who’d killed her, Telal who had stormed into his life only to ruin it again. Only later, after he’d been cast out banished from the kingdom by Telal, did he think. When one had nothing but his own thoughts as he wandered an endless land, his thoughts became him.

Oh, he’d thought over that terrible night again and again and again.

The more he walked the more he realized. His brother might have cast the final blow but if not for all of his own deeds, Arianna would still be alive and breathing.

He didn’t come to such a discovery easily. Oh no, it’d taken months and months of trekking through the rift, searching for his mother, and cutting of idummi heads to realize it.

He got her killed. His actions, his deeds led her to that place to begin with. He was the reason she was dead. And, he was the reason he couldn’t save her.

Yet even that wasn’t the whole story. For it was the curse that bound him to think dark thoughts, to be dark inside that made him unable to heal with spellcasting. His mother’s curse held the real blame. It was her fault ultimately, and he’d see her pay before he died.

His thoughts drifted as his numb body floated between sleep and aware. He drifted below the line of conscious once more allowing thoughts and colored pictures of the past to come over him.

It went back to the dream on the dais where he stood with his brother and his mate.

He was smiling at Telal.

Seeing that, even in a dream stunned him. It was as if he saw himself from another person’s body. He watched his smiling, golden face with violet eyes and auburn hair shining with the glint of red in the light—colors he hadn’t witnessed on himself in ages—as if he watched a stranger. For that’s what he’d become to himself.

His gaze wandered to the woman standing next to him. She stood with her face hidden in the shadows. Unease flittered through him and he tried tugging on her hand to bring her into the light with him.

Telal made a joke and Alrik laughed. Their voices were muffled, faraway sounding to his dreaming mind. He couldn’t make out the words, but he could feel the emotion of it. His chest warmed and his body felt as if he was floating as the laugh went through him.

His gaze moved back to the woman standing with him covered in shadows. A frown tugged his lips, and he tugged on the small, delicate hand trying to pull her into the light but she resisted. He wanted to see her. Needed to see her face.

No words left her lips but he sensed a hesitation, the “no” on her lips, though she never spoke. She started pulling away from him and sorrow clouded his heart, made him slow to grab for her when she pulled back. Then, she slipped into the shadows and was gone.

That dream had happened within a month of Arianna’s death, and now he’d just had it again.

What did it mean?

Had it hinted at Arianna’s impending death? He didn’t know, but then why was he having the dream now? Did it have anything to do with Arianna at all? Maybe the dream had everything to do with Abbigail? If it did have to do with Arianna then that didn’t make sense. Why did he look like his old self? Maybe the dream had just been a sign that she was the hope he’d been looking for because t she could have found a way to cure his curse. Then they would be standing hand in hand, mated, across from his brother and mate.

Too many questions and not enough answers.

He cursed himself, wishing he’d asked the seer. The seer would have the answer. He needed to know.

Some niggling thought kept coming up. Was it Abbigail and not Arianna pulling away from him this time? Even in sleep, his gut churned at the idea. If so, why would she? The very thought brought a sharp, tight pain into his chest and throat as if he was stuffed to full.

Yet the thought didn’t sit right with him.

Alrik sighed. That dream had happened more than a year ago, before his life was completely ruined. He never had a repeat dream until that one. Why that dream? Why now? Those dreams didn’t bare repeating since he could never forget it.

Damn if the dream didn’t make him feel things he hadn’t in so long. It made him want to share the mirth he’d found so briefly in his dream. He wanted to find it and share it with her. Not Arianna. He could see now that it wasn’t meant to be. Even with her death staining his hands, he could see it. He did love her. He’d loved her for a very long time, but they’d had such a short time to grow together. In fact, Alrik wasn’t so sure they did at all. Maybe if they’d had more time together.

Maybe...

But if he did love her then that couldn’t explain what he felt for Abbigail Krenshaw. For that woman, that human, made him feel things so wildly different, so tremendous that he didn’t know if he could always keep it contained.