IshaTernity

She turned to Namor with many questions unanswered, only to see him staring at something with a look akin to pain and longing on one of the surfaces on his murals, caressing the painting with a gentleness she had yet to seen from the god.

She shifted to the side quietly, trying to see what he was gazing at. When Namor bowed his head, Shuri saw a painting of a woman beside his serpent, posing regally with what looked like a staff in her hand.

She wore a beautiful jade and gold headpiece, green and brown feathers lining the outer layer, fading in its design as if the light was shining on them. It towered atop her figure, framing her perfectly like she was always meant to be there. She was adorned in jewelry, from the large, circular green jade plugs that hung from her ears to the tessellated necklace that she wore—a striking amalgamation of gleaming silver beads, plated viridescent tiles to carved gold pendants and everything that complemented her beauty. The woman had a tan clothe wrapped around her body, washes of terracotta and hues of sage and cream woven in stripes on the fabric. She was covered in jewels—just like Namor.

One thing for sure, she must have been of royalty in Talokan, or a goddess, perhaps. The corks in Shuri's head turned as she tried to figure out where the woman in the mural fit in Namor's story.

"Who is that?" Her question seemed to break him out of his reverie. She could see the way his body tensed at her question, and whether it was because she cut him out of his thoughts of because of what she asked, she didn't know.

It took a quiet moment before Namor answered, looking in deep contemplation with his eyebrows furrowed deeply and his eyes growing darker. The next thing he uttered was so full of emotion that it flooded through the sentence, his voice sounding thicker than blood.

"Leti' ka'ach in reina. My queen. In k'iino' ka, in k'áak'náabo'."

(She was my queen. My sun and my sea.)

For a second her words refused to make it out of her mouth. The Wakandan princess' mind didn't wonder to Namor having a queen.

The Namor now wasn't like the Namor she had met in the shores of her land with her mother. The Namor now felt like a broken man who would go the farthest lengths to protect his people. With every counting second of being in this underwater cave, Shuri seemed to discover more and more about the man, slowly laying bare the walls he had built around himself.

"Is she-"

"She was.. she was killed by surface dwellers." The god cut off, as if he couldn't bear to hear the words coming out from someone else's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and Shuri felt the sea grow quiet for a split second. It was like it remembered their lost queen.

He took a deep breathe before speaking out and if one were to listen closely, they could hear the slight shakiness in his voice, like talking about this particular incident tore his wounds open again. "Years ago the surface dwellers tried to find Talokan. They were told of an underwater city filled with glittering gold and diamonds, with a palace of precious metals whose value exceeds all else."

"They are greedy, always taking and taking what is not theirs—beasts who ravage land with no mind of its consequences. She was there where the land met the waters along with the young ones, and those monsters crossed paths with them." Namor shook his head, disdain present in the way he moved his body and his words.

"The first thing they did they raised their weapons, pointing it at her when all she did was offer them her hands. She tried to speak to them, to negotiate with peace and kindness. But they are blinded with hatred." He spat that word out and Shuri almost flinched at his tone.

"With no mercy they killed her and the children. They took their lives as if it was nothing to them."

"When I emerged to the surface.. she was already dying."

One of your handmaids had been the one to inform him of the situation, barging into his mural room right when he got back from a trip with a growing panic in her eyes as she screamed in anguish, 'Le reina! Le reina!'

"I turned to those murderers and treated them with how they treated my wife and the young ones; I killed them with no mercy."

The feathered serpent god will never forget the possessing rage he felt when he saw what those killers did to his wife. Without a single doubt in his movements he flew towards them like a strike of lightning and sliced their heads off before they could even scream.

Something that would always haunt his dreams was seeing his beloved die in his arms, unable to do anything, running out of time.

Sometimes, if the K'uk'ulkan thought too much about it, he could still feel the way he held you in his arms, the jarring coldness of your body that surged across his skin like a bloodthirsty frostbite.

Your hair fell in a pool beneath your head, encrusted with blood that he didn't know where it came from. There was too much, too much of it that slithered around your body. With trembling hands he supported the back of your neck, bringing your face closer as he cradled your cheeks in his palms.

"Ma', ma', in puksi'ik'al.. jaap wicho'ob, láayli' ma' jach a súutuko'," he pleaded, heart racing a thousand beats at your weakened state. His fingers stroked your temples, tracing the skin from your eyebrows to the high point of your cheek and you swore you would forever savor the feel of his skin on yours.

(No, no, my heart.. open your eyes, it's not your time yet,)

"It's al-..right, in amado." You choked out, holding the hand that held your face and leaning onto his palms with whatever energy you had left in you. It was getting harder to open your eyes or even speak, the hole in your chest rampaging your body like an unquenched beast.

"In ku. Let go, K'ukulkan. Ts'o'ok in meentik le ba'ax táan des-.. destinado in beetik waye'.. je'el u páajtal in je'elel bejla'e'.."

(They call me. I've done what I was meant to do here.. I can rest now..)

He ignored your terrifying acceptance and gently quieted you, pressing his lips onto your forehead in deep fervor. "Save you words, in yaakunaj-"

Namor's heart threatened to jump right out of his chest when he felt your hand go slightly limp, desperately taking it above the crook of his neck, right where the ends of his jaw met his ears. The king held onto you so tightly, trying to keep you grounded with him in the world of the living as if the warmth of his body would spread life to your decaying one. He saw you smile peacefully, like his touch rejuvenated you for a single beat, slowly yet surely stroking the tip of his pointed ears as you've always done whenever you had the chance to. It was a small act of affection that Namor fell weak to, and he couldn't contain the abrupt cry that fell from his lips at the familiar gesture.

"K'a'as a puksi'ik'al yéetel a-.. a yaakunaj, in ajawo'," but even then your stubborn and insistent nature persevered. You spoke with only him and your love for him in mind, silently telling him that this will not be the end. That despite after all this when you will no longer be there to tell him just how beloved and brave he is, he should still remember what he had learned—what he had taught you. You hoped that it would keep him grounded and true, still fierce but with compassion and empathy.

(Remember your heart and your love, my king,)

"In.. yaakunech," and you let our your final breathe, the light in your eyes no longer shining as you stared up into nothing. At the least you looked content to pass to the afterlife in your husbands arms, a gentle lift on the corner of your lips to signify that you've moved on. But along with your departure you tore apart of Namor that he didn't think could ever be replaced—left him with a half-ripped heart and as a shell of the man he once was.

(I love you)

Now, kneeling on the prickling pearly sand tainted with weeping carmine, he was not a god. He was not the king of a powerful underwater nation, he was not a lethal mutant, a hero, a villain, or a protector. No, he was just a man. A man whose heart had been punctured with a hole in the shape of his beloved.

He screamed at the world with the voice of someone who had just lost everything, scorning the surface dwellers with a burning pit of anger and vengeance in his blackened heart. It echoed around the area, bleeding onto every rock, every blade of grass and every tree with his promise of death. The sea grew restless, mirroring the raging currents in his soul.

Namor choked a cry, closing your eyes as his hands shook with grief and pain, body threatening to collapse under his heartbreak. He brought your face closer to his, resting his forehead against yours while he scrunched his eyes closed, disbelieving and mourning of the loss of his beloved. Because no matter how much he begged, how much he cried for you, you would never come back to him, never blessing him with that delicate smile on your face again. The god stayed there for what felt like hours and days, whispering sweet goodbyes, harrowing sobs and promises to avenge you.

When he carried your cold body to Talokan, the people could only stare in shock and despair over the loss of their darling queen. In their eyes you were one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, not just because of your position, but because of your compassion and your love—something that knew no bounds.

It was a painful and gut-wrenching experience, to bury his own wife. It brought him back to the time where he had to do the same to his own mother, to cover her in clothe and put a piece of maize inside her mouth.

"The surface dwellers have taken so much. Talokan's queen, our home and our freedom. I will not let them do so again." Namor had a scathing look in his eyes, a latent tone of tiredness from facing a world that only took from him.

"She must have been an amazing queen and a strong woman." Shuri could only utter these words with a solemn expression on her face, unable to reply to such vulnerability of someone she had considered a dangerous enemy. Despite that.. there was an underlying empathy between the two. Shuri understood him. She knew the pain of losing someone you love.

"She was." A calm visage eventually spread around his face as he looked up at the glorious mural depicted on the walls of the room. "She had the biggest heart and the kindest soul."

Namor couldn't help but get lost in his memories of his beautiful wife. He speaks no lies when he describes you. You were the people's queen, as what the Talokanil called you. You'd always visit the people, play games with the children and scour the underwater markets that sold all kinds of trinkets and foods. Whenever the people needed you you were always there, willing to help them without a second glance as you opened your heart to them all.

After you death, whenever he would swim around Talokan and talk to his people—laughing and joking around with them—there would be this.. serene melody inside his heart, a gentleness that ran through his veins. Namor would feel the water pulsing on the pads of his skin and he'd always take a moment to close his eyes to relish the feeling. Then a smile would make it onto his face—the kind of smile that you would always tell him to show more often. His people felt it too, like a warm embrace to their soul, as if you were watching over them, still caring about them even when you were gone.

It was not only to Talokan's people, but to the ocean's animals too.

If there was one thing about his queen, it was that you had a deep affinity with the marine animals. Whenever the king couldn't find you anywhere in your room or in the palace halls, Namor would only smile to himself and swim to the clearing of the sea just outside of Talokan, watching his wife croon along the whales and the orcas, taking care of them as if your love spoke a thousand languages.

"In ch'ujuk, ko'oten paakat!" You would shout, gleefully waving your hand up in the air with no care in the world.

(My sweet, come and look!)

Sometimes he would only stay back and watch you with eyes so tender that it looked like he was entirely captivated by you. By your voice, your laughter, your smile; your everything. Other times, Namor would be too taken by you (as he always was), deciding to join you play with the creatures that you'd called 'your babies'. Whirling and chasing them around them felt like dancing in the water and Namor was too in love to ever deny you of your little joy.

Even now whenever the whales would call out to the sea, or when the orcas whistled and clicked along, he could still hear your radiant laughter singing along with them and oh how he longed to hear that sound again, to hear the melody of the ocean in its fullness.

You were simply the glue to Talokan; everyone adored the queen.

Until now, your throne still sat next to his, the jade and vibranium never ceasing to glow. Every time he sat there, watching over his people and celebrating his kingdom with defiant shouts of "L'ik'ik Talokan" he would always remember your face, remember the proud look you had when you would raise your fist to your chest along with everyone. Your memory will never fade in the heart of Talokan, always lingering in the brightest places, comforting during troubling times, because you will always be a precious piece of the kingdom that neither he nor his people would forget.

If he brought the sun to his people, you were the sun to him.

"You and I, we are not so different, princess." He broke his train of thought.

"Those people only see us as threats because they know we are powerful. They will not stop until they have what they want. It is a danger to my kingdom and my people—a threat to your people too."

Finally, Namor turned his head to face Shuri, a determined aura lingering in his voice and in his expression. She felt compelled to stare back straight into his eyes, the conviction in his tone like a true king. "And so I offer you again."

"Join me, and we will never have to see our people suffer, to see our loved ones suffer. We will no longer mourn our losses and bury the dead for unjust cruelty."

"Together, we will watch the world burn."

lawd this man singlehandedly got me out of a writing slump like.. making a fic with angst + namor = too easy 😩💳💥

this is my first time writing for him, so i hope it was okay! im so in love with him and i wanted to contribute my own piece to the fandom.

also, i'm pretty sure the yucatec mayan was not properly translated, so i apologize from my heart for the inaccuracies. please tell me if i have to fix anything!

dividers by @delishlydelightfuldividers and @rpinkling

Morpheus was interrupted from his work by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he sighed, reluctant to have to speak to anyone. He only grew more annoyed when he laid eyes on his sibling as they entered the room, slinking about with that stupid grin on their face. “Why are you here?”

“What, I can’t visit my brother?”

“You never just visit. Why are you here.”

Desire smirked and leaned against the wall by Dream’s desk. Annoyed eyes narrowed at them, trying to discern the purpose of their visit.

“Death and I had a little chat the other day. And you know what she told me? She said that you’d gotten yourself a pet.”

“You mean Matthew? He’s hardly a pet.”

“No, not that stupid bird, I’m referring to your little nymph. The one that Death found, all lost and scared and without a home,” Desire said in a slightly mocking tone.

Morpheus’s jaw tightened at the mention of the you. “Do not refer to her in such a way. And do not mock the tragedy that befell her or her home. Death found her and her home was destroyed, she had no where else to go. I agreed to let her live here. That’s that.”

“Well, anyway,” Desire waved in the air, dismissing their brother’s disdain towards their attitude. “She’s very cute. Very sweet. I think you two would make quite the pair…” Morpheus said nothing as he continued to stare down his sibling who rambled on.

When it was clear Desire would not leave until he gave in to whatever it was they wanted, he responded. “She is very dear to me, but we are friends. Please don’t read into things.”

“You’re quite thick in the head, did you know that, brother? Which is why, sometimes, I think it’s best to force your hand…”

Morpheus stood up from his desk abruptly. “What did you do?” He asked in a low, stern tone.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Desire winked. “Goodbye, brother!” They called as they left, likely returning to their own realm now that they’ve succeeded in causing trouble.

Dream of the endless tried to sit back down and go back to his work, but it was hardly an hour after his sibling left that two palace staff came rushing into his office.

“Sir, It’s y/n…. She- she um…” one of them spoke, panting from how quickly they had ran in and clearly unsure how to phrase it.

Morpheus simply stood up and headed towards your chambers, walking at a quick pace.

He heard a strange, high-pitched whimper coming from your door as he approached it, as well as the sight of vines and leaves creeping out from the cracks in the door. He swung open the door quickly to see you writhing in your bed at the far end of the room with the plants you kept growing and twisting around the furniture and up the walls.

The palace doctor was trying to examine you but you wouldn’t quit moving. Morpheus shut the door behind him and crossed the room to where you were, looking to the doctor for answers.

“What happened?”

The doctor turned to him and pushed her glasses up slightly, sighing. “It would appear that she has been given a drug which has greatly increased her libido. It’s like she’s gone into heat, her temperature is increased and her mind is all mixed up. According to Lucienne, she collapsed in the library after being seen with Desire… I think you can guess who is responsible.”

Morpheus’s pale face nearly reddened at the doctor’s words, and his eyes trailed down to you. Your face was flushed red and your eyes squeezed shut, a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and both your hands gripping the sheet that had been laid over your body, threatening the sheet to fall and exposing your breasts.

He quickly reached over to you and pulled the sheet up, and felt your hands gently wrap around his arm as he did so, refusing to let him go. You hummed in contentment through small sobs, eyes still closed yet savoring the contact.

Morpheus had been around a very long time. Of course he knew how to fix it, but he didn’t know if he could possibly overcome his own fears of doing so. He was terrified of letting you get close, and even more terrified of losing you.

“It should wear off in two days without anyone intervening, it’s just going to be a bit painful for her… If there is intervention, it could wear off in a couple of hours to a day. Unfortunately, there’s nothing else I can do for her… so I’ll be on my way,” the doctor gave Morpheus a look before leaving the room, making a point to lock the door behind her.

He sighed, looking down at you. Gods, he thought you were gorgeous. Even in your delirious state your hair shone and your skin looked as soft as silk.

You had been living together for a few years now, and he considered you a good friend despite his reluctance to allow you to live in the Dreaming. It was Death who had convinced him.

Death impressed upon him the importance of nature, the value of giving humans dreams and visions of lush greenery and delicate flowers. It was the lack of appreciation for those things that left you without a home, weakened and alone.

You were so good to him, and he appreciated you deeply. You somehow always knew when he was in a mood, when he needed to talk, when he just needed company. For the most part, you seemed to keep to yourself, crafting those visions of nature for the humans and filling children’s dreams with butterflies. You fit right into the Dreaming, effortlessly.

As you clung to his arm, he gently moved his other hand to push hair from your face. A small gasp escaped your lips, and experimentally, Morpheus cupped your cheek, stroking his thumb across your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, more tears escaping, and you sighed at the contact.

“Morpheus,” you whined, trying to grip his arm tighter and pull him closer.

“Little one,” he whispered to you, knowing how your heart skipped a beat when he called you that. You never told him how much you liked it, how it made you feel as though you were under his protection, but he knew. “What’s wrong?”

“Too hot,” you gasped, and it was painfully true. It felt like you had caught on fire, clenching your thighs together as you felt wetness seeping out of you and down your legs. “Hurts so much. Touch me, please,” you moaned. You would normally never ever be so brazen, but your brain wasn’t working quite right and the only thing you wanted was the gorgeous god next to you to rearrange your insides.

You felt your muscles cramp again, letting out a heady moan as more slick left your entrance and the vines around the room twisted up another few inches. You could never quite control the plant growth when your emotions were running rampant.

His thumb that had been gently rubbing against your cheek slowly edged towards your lips, and without second thought, you opened your mouth, your tongue curling around the digit and sucking on it. The black haired god sat down on the bed beside you, staring into your eyes intensely.

Those grey eyes were filled with indecision and restraint. Trying to assure him, you asked again. “Please, please, touch me, Morpheus. I need you,” you pulled down the sheet covering your breasts and grabbed his hand, licking and pressing kisses against his wrists.

Morpheus knew as soon as the doctor told him what had overcome you that this would only end in one way. He cared too much to lock you in here and let you suffer alone, and he was far too infatuated with you not to take the opportunity to bring you to several mind-numbing orgasms. Especially if you would be in pain otherwise. He might be a god, but Morpheus felt powerless against you. He knew he’d do anything for you.

You watched his eyes as his resolve broke, pulling his arm away and yanking the sheet entirely off your body. The cool air of the room felt better against your feverish skin, but you burned under his intense gaze, his hand ran over your skin, across your breast and down to the curve of your hips, before stopping. You whimpered, and his hand finally glided over towards your legs, up your thigh feeling the liquid that had been dripping out of you. A strange, low growl emitted from his throat as he felt just how wet you were, and you nearly cried when he finally touched your center, fingers circling through the wetness and around your clit.

“Shh, good girl,” he whispered as you moaned wantonly with his fingers on you, desperate to cum in any way you can get. “Does that feel better?”

“Mhm, so much better,” you sighed, trying to move your hips against him. His long fingers suddenly breached into your pussy and slid in with ease, curling up over and over again, making your body feel like it was being wound up impossibly tight. “Oh, gods, please,” you moaned as he continued curling his fingers slowly inside of you, the slow pace torturous yet making the buildup even more intense before you shattered, crying out his name and squirting liquid onto his hand as your legs shook and your pussy convulsed around his fingers.

The orgasm took the burning, painful heat away and took the edge off of the pain you had felt, leaving you warm and buzzing as the aftershocks rolled through you. Morpheus pulled his fingers out of you and his clothes were gone in an instant, climbing over you and claiming your lips with his own in a messy, heated kiss.

You kissed back fervently, feeling the needy heat inside of you flare back up as you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, whimpering into his perfect mouth and rubbing against his leg that was now between your own.

“You’re being so good for me, darling,” he told you in that seductive voice which had always affected you even when you didn’t want to admit it. His voice sounded like pure comfort and sin.

“Oh!” You gasped when his mouth came into contact with the spot under your ear, nibbling down and making you feel like you could burst at any second again.

You watched in awe as he worked his way down your body, clutching the sheets beneath you when his mouth sucked and gently bit on your nipple, giving attention to the other one as well before continuing down back to your center, eyes locked on you as he began to place kisses on the inside of your thighs.

When you felt his tongue part your soaked folds you were convinced that you must be dreaming. But you weren’t, and the man between your legs was the one responsible for all dreams in the first place. No, it was all shockingly real, and every time his tongue swirled your sensitive clit, the warmth added even more pleasure as he worked you back up to your peak.

He paused, and you felt a hand grip your breast as he spoke. “Look at me, y/n.” As if he needed you to see it was him bringing you pleasure. It was him you revered, him who was making you see stars, and you of course complied, looking down to see his ever-messy black hair slightly covering his eyes as he looked at you.

The sight of him between your legs mixing with the look of pure power he was giving you as he sucked your clit made you cry out his name as you came once more, juices dripping down his chin as you gushed and your walls clenched around nothing, his name coming out in pants through your overwhelming pleasure. When he finally ceased his movements his hands both gripped your thighs as he sat up, looking down at you. Your hair was messy and your eyes were beginning to glaze over in ecstasy.

Morpheus often wondered how you looked so perfect, so effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps it was because you were simply of nature, a nymph made to protect and nurture, sweet by mere creation. Now, looking at you in your post-orgasm haze, he realized he hadn’t been appreciative enough of you. You were beyond perfection, made of pure wonder, better than anything he could ever imagine. And now, you were under him. You were his, looking up at him as if he was the only important thing in the world.

How had he waited this long?

Perhaps, despite Morpheus’s disdain for the pain the condition was causing you, Desire’s meddling had worked out well for once. Not that Morpheus would ever let Desire anywhere near you again…

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs was oddly comforting, making you feel powerless against him. And that’s all you wanted. You wanted him to absolutely ruin you, to pull you apart at the seams and put you back together as his.

Your eyes were skimming across his slender, long body before landing on his cock, erect and leaking, and you let out a whimper at the sight of it alone, moving to sit up and reach for him, but he didn’t allow it, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting up.

You let out an unhappy noise at the refusal but he quickly reassured you with kisses along the side of your face.

“You’re still burning up, let me take care of you, little one.”

Nodding, you opened your legs for him, but still quickly wrapped a hand around his length and pumped up and down gently, experimentally almost, and watched his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he let out a deep groan.

“Such a needy girl. You need to be filled up? Will that make you stop hurting?”

You nodded again, desperate for him to stop talking and shove himself deep in you already.

“Say what you want,” he taunted in his seductive voice.

“I want you, Morpheus. I want you in me,” you breathed impatiently.

He finally lined his tip up with your entrance, the intrusion warm and causing you to gasp.

As he pushed in, he began to fully stretch you out, causing a slight burn. But the burn felt so right, and you just wanted him deeper. You wanted him everywhere. You wanted to feel like you were so full of him you could burst.

You encouraged him by wriggling your hips against him as he continued to push into you, moaning softly in his ear and he let out a low moan as he finally bottomed out, fully sheathed inside of you. You were incredibly wet and your walls were squeezing him tight, and the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside of you forced Morpheus to pause for a moment so he wouldn’t cum inside you right away.

Before he even started moving you wrapped your legs around his waist and started rocking into him slowly, looking at him with pure lust and moaning in such a lovely, needy way that he had no choice but to give in to you.

He finally started fucking you in earnest, and your nails began to dig into his back as his cock dragged in and out of you, hitting every single spot as he did so and leaving you a mess. You couldn’t stop moaning, losing touch with reality quickly as he tilted your hips up and began thrusting directly into your g-spot, making you nearly scream as you saw stars.

Your eyes were locked on his, in near worship of the way the god was giving you pleasure. Your brain was obsessed with it, still locked on the idea of getting him somehow deeper, desperately yearning for him to cum in you as much as possible. There was nothing but him as his hips thrust into you, a hand moving to your breast to squeeze it roughly.

The thought alone of Morpheus cumming inside of you is what sent you over the edge. You wanted to please him, wanted to keep a part of him in you, wanted him to mark you and use you for his own pleasure.

You cried out through your fog of lust at the intensity of the orgasm, your pussy tightening around his cock and clenching down, you could feel him throbbing inside of you as you came around him and coated his thick cock with your release. Instead of giving you a clear head, the instant pleasure and release from your orgasm only lasted a few moments before you were sent further into hyperdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” Morpheus cursed at your tightness. “Give me one more, darling. One more,” and his hand moved to circle your drenched clit. You cried out, squirming under him.

“Deeper! Please, Morpheus, my lord, fuck me deeper! I need you to fill me with your cum, need it so much,” you babbled, desperate and dead set on being filled with his cum. It was the only thing your brain could think of, being marked, being his, filled to the brim with your king’s white and sticky release, the warmth spreading through your abdomen as it dripped from your soaked core.

Morpheus knew immediately that the drugs were fully affecting your words and desires, but he was quite sure that if he didn’t give you what you wanted, you would remain overheated and desperate and would go to whatever lengths it took to get him to cum inside of you.

He complied, shifting your hips once more to change the angle to reach even deeper, a high-pitched whine escaping from you as he hit your spot perfectly.

“You want me to come inside of you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please!” You cried, back arching as you looked up at him in pure desperation.

“How could I ever say no to you? I’ll fill you up so full, mark you, leave you dripping…” your moans grew in volume as he continued, still rubbing your clit. “Do you want that? Want to be so full of my cum that you feel it inside of you?”

Morpheus knew you were beyond words, you were so lost in pleasure that the vines you unknowingly controlled had began to creep onto the bed and wrap around the headboard. With the brutal pace and precision of the way he was fucking you, and the amount of liquid that kept seeping out from your core, he knew you were close.

“Cum for me again, and I’ll cum inside of you, my love. Cum around my cock,” he commanded, and you certainly complied. You gripped the sheets beneath you as you finally let go, sobbing out in your release, feeling like fireworks had gone off in your nerves and gushing around him for the second time. It was so brutally powerful, and even more so when you felt Morpheus’s hips slow as he released inside of you with a deep groan, the warmth coating your insides and filling you with inexplicable contentment. The feeling of him finishing inside of you prolonged your orgasm left you shaking. You felt perfectly full, overjoyed to be claimed by him in such a way, and your needy brain finally quieted giving you peace from the rampant lewd thoughts.

The vines and leaves shrunk away, not dying but reverting to their previous state. The overbearing heat finally left your body leaving you feeling only warm, buzzing, and sated, whispering your thanks to him in a small voice. You felt heavy and your legs felt nearly numb. Morpheus stayed inside of you but shifted your bodies to be on your sides, facing one another. “You were such a good girl for me,” he spoke softly as he pulled you closer. You quickly curled up against his chest and fell asleep, barely aware of your surroundings but feeling safe in the warmth of his arms.

•*•*•*•*•*•

You woke up feeling normal, the cool and fluffy fabric of the comforter against your skin, along with the warmth of Morpheus’s arms.

The man was always so stone-cold and expressionless that you thought he might be cold to the touch, but no, he was pleasantly warm.

Then, confusion hit you. Why were you naked? Why was he naked?

And why was he in your bed??

Your eyes widened and you shifted your head to look up at him. He looked so peaceful, messy hair hanging over his closed eyes, chest rising and falling with each breath.

As you watched him, realization began to wash over you as you remembered what you had done. You shot up in embarrassment and covered your mouth with one hand, using the other to pull the blanket up and cover your exposed breasts. The sudden shift loosened the god’s grip around you and his eyes opened.

“I- My Lord… I am so sorry!” you apologized still covering your face, bright red with embarrassment over your brazen actions.

“What are you sorry for, little one?” He asked with the ghost of a smile on his lips, sitting up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pull your hand from your face.

You looked down shamefully, face burning and unable to meet his gaze. “For what I did… earlier…”

“Look at me, y/n.”

When you didn’t comply he reached out to tilt your chin up.

“Do you regret what we did?”

You paused for a moment before shaking your head.

“Well, I do not regret it either,” he spoke in that ever serious voice of his, smooth as velvet and dark as obsidian. He took the hand that was holding the blanket over you and pulled it away, pulling you towards him to settle back against his chest. “Though I do apologize for not doing that sooner.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and you glanced up to see an obvious smile on Morpheus’s face.

You had daydreamed many times here in your youth, using it to escape the confines of your increasingly dull reality. You lost count of how many afternoons waned away in this place with a book of unusual subject and a sleepy smile. It was exactly as you remembered, maybe even more colorful.

A seagull called overhead. But the sound was wrong, forebodingly sharp.

The bird flew over your head and carried with it a dark sky, full of swirling grey clouds. Distant thunder rolled and the landscape began to fade away. The beautiful sea vanished and was replaced with dunes of rough, unforgiving sand. The breeze, no longer a featherlight touch, was dry and strong. It told of a storm coming.

The chill of fear trickled from the top of your spine and creeped underneath your skin. It was ice freezing in your veins.

A figure was beginning to emerge from a wave of reflective heat and blinding light. Its silhouette was growing closer, its gait graceful but powerful. As it drew closer, you recognized the head of wild dark hair and the outline of bone and sinew.

You could see him clearly now – imposing, ethereal, and still gloriously naked.

Your eyes raked from his sharp collarbone and defined shoulders to his icy blue eyes. He was terrifying, but still so beautiful. Your mind was having trouble wrapping around him. He reminded you of a fallen angel, dangerous but with a rippling undercurrent of seduction.

The otherworldly man bent slowly, dark eyes never leaving yours, and stretched his long fingers through the coarse sand beneath his feet. His palm closed, grasping onto the grains with a clenched fist. He rose again to his full height, slow but purposeful, and took a step toward you. For the first time since seeing him inside of that glass prison, you were truly afraid.

···

His power was radiating through the air, through every modicum of sand. It was unfettered. It felt limitless and boundless in your bones. You were feeling the brunt of it, not filtered by a binding circle or glass orb, and it felt so incomprehensible that it scared you.

He stopped a few paces in front of you, eyes unblinking and fathomless. Your breathing was shallow and your chest was heaving. You were dizzy.

His head lowered so that his face would be closer to your level. His dark brows were furrowed and framed his penetrating stare in a way that made you gulp.

His full lips parted.

“You have freed me.”

His voice was amber and honey, soft but rumbling like a distant summer storm. The sound poured over you in a warm wave, leaving your skin prickling.

A very uncomfortable combination of fear and awe had congealed in your throat, capturing all of the words that you longed to say. One question finally made its way out of your mouth.

“Who are you?” you asked. Your voice was small and breathy.

He took another step closer, only a few feet away now. His shoulders squared and he drew to his full height, sharp jaw clenching with thinly-veiled pride.

“I am the King of Dreams,” he breathed, his tongue caressing every syllable like a sonnet, “the Ruler of Nightmares. I am Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless...”

You swallowed hard, so hard that it was painful.

You hadn’t just released any dream creature, any old manipulator of nighttime fantasies—no, you had released a god.

“That’s…” you gulped again, your gaze struggling under the weight of his, “that’s a lot of names.”

His expression was impassive, but he saw something in yours that made him take another step closer. He could not be any closer now without touching you. Was this it? you thought. Was this the moment he killed you?

“You need not be afraid,” he said, voice gentle but flowing with quiet authority. Your heart was thundering painfully in your ears at his proximity, at the pull of his voice. It ghosted across something deep within you.

“Okay,” you whispered. The word was trembling, struggling to break through that lump in your throat.

The king’s head tipped to the side, eyes studying you in a way that made you feel like the exposed one. He was standing so close that most would consider it socially unacceptable even if he was clothed. The Lord of Dreams was so regal, and still so strikingly naked. Your face felt so hot that your cheeks were tingling with numbness.

“You showed me kindness when I had become quite convinced that humanity was incapable,” he breathed. His eyes had been wandering your every feature, like it was some kind of puzzle that he was trying to solve. He was still confused by your empathy.

You couldn’t help it, your gaze darted to his lips before settling on his incredible eyes again. He was so close that you could feel his breath ghosting across your face.

“I… I just did the right thing,” you replied. Your voice was finally starting to return, as pitiful as it sounded. “It wasn’t a hard choice to make.”

The air was filled with a thick silence. He regarded you, head still cocked, bold gaze searching your eyes for anything deceitful. After a beat, he let out a breath through his nose and straightened again to his full height.

“I am grateful,” he stated. His tone was measured, like he was being careful not to come across as emotional, but there was an undercurrent there of feeling that you were sure you weren’t imagining.

The air was charged, the ashy clouds swirling faster. Your fingers itched to touch his alabaster skin, now so very close and unobstructed by glass. You wanted to somehow show him, through your touch, that you expected nothing in return. That you simply cared.

Morpheus moved back, as if he could sense your intentions, and dropped his stare from yours for the first time. Something in your chest deflated. It felt like you had been unplugged.

He turned away from you, heading back toward the direction from which he came. You were stunned by the intensity of just how much you wanted him to stay and you couldn’t stop the plea that burst from your throat.

“Wait!”

He stopped, back rigid and ramrod straight. He did not turn toward you.

“Where – where are you going?”

It came across much more desperate than you would have liked. How contrite your emotion must sound to a god.

“I must attend to unfinished business.”

His tone was full of vengeful promise, the clouds above your head darkening from grey to black. A very ancient human instinct squeezed your stomach, warning you of the danger in the air. You sincerely hoped that one day you would never be on the receiving end of his wrath.

He was walking away again, strut full of menacing purpose. So many questions and pleas burned in your chest: Don’t leave me, Take me with you, Will I ever see you again? But you shoved them down.

Instead, you called out, “Will you be alright?”

He stopped again. This time, he fully turned toward you, something swirling in his icy orbs that took your breath away. He didn’t answer your question.

He breathed your name, his tongue twirling around it and lips caressing it in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your insides. The foreboding landscape dissolved away around you and was replaced with the scorching blue light and thrashing gales.

Through the howling wind, you heard it. So soft, so seductive.

“Sleep.”

The King of Dreams raised his closed fist and opened his long fingers with gentle care, revealing the mound of sand that he had taken from the desert inside of your head. His lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as he blew it out of his palm and toward you. The sand expanded and became a dark cloud against the blinding blue light, dancing and snaking around your body with ease.

It touched your skin like a lover, poured into your mouth like warm syrup, and you were fading from the world. Happily.

Your knees buckled, your body ready to drop to the hard concrete floor. But it didn’t.

Two strong arms caught you.

The hard outline of his body was the last thing you remembered before being lost to that tempting pull of darkness.

___________________________________

Your sleep was the deepest you experienced in years.

It was almost dreamless.

It was so very warm, so very pleasant, until you were plagued by terrifying visions. You saw it like flashes from a camera bulb, quick but intense. A black cat, a journey down a dark hallway, and a menacing black silhouette with the glowing eyes of a stalking predator.

“Alex! Alex, please! Wake up, darling!”

You were jolted from your sleep, gasping, disoriented. You were in your bed.

Paul’s screams were echoing down the hall in the early morning light, desperate and panicked. You jumped out of bed as fast as your unsteady feet would allow, a choking feeling of despair in your chest. Something inside of you told you what you would find.

You bolted into the master bedroom, hair flying and a sob on the edge of your lips. Alex Burgess was lying in the bed with eyes darting around inside of his closed eyelids. His head was moving back and forth, as if he was fighting something, disturbed whimpers escaping from his lips. The emerging light of the sun through the bedroom windows shined on his sweaty skin.

“He – he won’t wake,” Paul sobbed to you, turning to meet your concerned gaze with eyes full of tears. You gulped back the cries that wanted to rip from your throat, immense guilt enveloping you like a suffocating blanket.

“Paul, I – I’m so—”

You stopped yourself. What were you going to say? Paul, I’m so sorry for releasing the vengeful God of Dreams from your basement that I wasn’t even supposed to know about in the first place? Or what about, Paul, I’m so sorry, but I’m the reason your husband is gone forever?

You exhaled shakily. “I’ll call the doctor.”

The doctor confirmed what you knew in your heart. Alex Burgess had fallen into a coma that he would never return from. An inconsolable Paul looked sick when the basement guards told him that Edwin had quit the night before and never showed up for his shift. When Hattie and Randy saw his tear-streaked face, they knew. They blamed themselves, but Paul, in his infinite grace, did not.

He descended to the basement with you in tow, telling you hoarsely that he wanted to show you something.

Paul opened one of the glass doors for you. You stepped into the dark room slowly, guilty tears stinging your eyes. The binding circle was blurred, the glass was shattered, and the familiar hum that you’d grown to love was gone. The room was empty, dead.

“I should’ve known,” Paul’s sorrowful voice echoed through the shadowy room. “I knew it would happen one day… just not today.”

Your gaze dropped to the glass-covered floor, blinking back the tears that were begging to fall. This was all your fault. You knew, deep down, that this would happen if you released the Dream Lord.

“Those – those guards, they feel awful,” you said hesitantly, unable to meet his eyes. You had been formally introduced to them that morning. You felt awful is what you really wanted to say.

“It’s not Randy or Hattie’s fault,” Paul sighed, taking a step toward the broken orb of glass. He kicked a shard on the floor absentmindedly. “It’s ours. Mine and Alex’s.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, Roderick Burgess trapped something in this cellar that was never meant to be held,” he replied almost instantly, forlorn. “And we… we were too afraid to fix his mistake.”

You knew in your heart that this was true, that the ultimate fault really did lie with the Burgesses. But you had played your part, and for a kind heart like yours, it was a heavy burden.

“I wish… I wish there was something I could do to help you,” you offered, heart breaking for Paul. The love that you observed between him and his husband for the weeks you were there was truly beautiful to witness.

Paul gave you a watery smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe help me with – with some preparations?” His voice broke on the last word.

“I’d be honored.”

___________________________________

After Alex Burgess’s funeral and a heartfelt goodbye to Paul, you left the Burgess house for good. Not quite ready to go home, you rented a small cottage in a nearby town from a kind elderly lady. Flying back to the States already meant that you would be returning to your old life, the one with something seriously lacking, and you didn’t want to do that. Not yet.

Something inside of you wanted to stay here, in England, at least for now. You wanted to be close to where you met the otherworldly man with eyes that told of universes. You were afraid that the further away you got from the Burgess home, the further away the memories would drift from you.

You never wanted to forget him, the King of Dreams.

You closed your eyes and remembered Alex’s casket and Paul’s tear-brimmed eyes. Don’t forget, you told yourself, he’s the King of Nightmares too.

Despite now knowing who he was—what he was—you couldn’t just let him go. He was powerful, dangerous, something other, but to the despondent ache in your chest none of that mattered. That hum, that vibration that resonated in your very cells… you missed it. Now that you’d experienced it, you weren’t sure that you could ever live without that feeling again.

But you were only human, and he… he was something so ancient that words couldn’t do justice. You were but a blip on his radar, a tiny ant in an ever-expanding universe that he would surely forget if he hadn’t already.

It had only been a week since you released him, but it felt like so much longer. Every time that you fell asleep, you appeared in a world that you recognized as your beloved dream universe. You hadn’t been here in ages, especially since you’d arrived at the Burgess house. Your sleep was fitful, fleeting, and dreamless while Lord Morpheus was locked underneath your feet. Now, it was like a veil had lifted and you were able to return home.

But your haven of escape had changed. Something was different.

You could see past the borders of your own dream now. The hills of tall, green grass that danced in the fragrant breeze ended abruptly, revealing a wasteland of dark rock and churning clouds. Previously, you never even noticed that your dream had a border. But now that you could see the desolation stretching on in the distance, you wondered how you had ever missed it in the first place. It was like someone had removed your rose-colored glasses.

Every night you ventured closer and closer to that border, working up the courage to breach it. You were a consistent lucid dreamer and you were always aware that you weren’t in the real world the moment you closed your eyes. You would fabricate flowers and trees, rivers and brooks, beaches, even small creatures that would roam your little stretch of dreamland. But every time you tried to create something to root beyond the border, it would dissipate into a pile of dark sand and blow away.

You chewed on your lip and twirled the cup of Sleepytime Tea in your hands. It had grown cold. You must have been daydreaming.

The one thing that you longed for more than anything else was to see Dream again. It was a pull in your gut that made you want to sleep every hour of the day. Every night since his release, you called to him in your dream world, but he never came. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was beyond that imposing line, that if you finally had the courage to go poking and prodding into the dark that you would find him.

As you settled into your small bed, you decided that you would venture into the unknown. You would tread the soil untouched by you and test its limits. The emptiness of what lay beyond that border reminded you of a nightmare, but you would search there anyway. Your unbridled curiosity always won over in the end.

You turned off your bedside lamp and closed your eyes. You made a conscious effort to slow your breathing when you noticed swirling shapes begin to dance behind your eyelids. This was always how your dreaming started.

Those shapes flowed, fluttered, and changed colors. They stretched and molded and glimmered until they began to settle at your feet, turning into lush green grass and pirouetting butterflies. The familiar scent of white poppies tickled your nose and you opened your eyes. The two suns that kissed in the sky moved, bringing swaths of pink and orange light with them. They began to set on the horizon of the ocean you’d created the night before, casting vibrant hues that danced in the water.

You turned around.

Behind you, only a few steps away, was the border. Lightning struck in those curling dark clouds, a warning.

Even though you felt like this was something you shouldn’t be doing, that you weren’t allowed to do, you took a deep breath and held it as you scooted a toe past your remaining grass and into the black sand. Thunder rolled over your head, like a growl in the chest of a beast. With bated breath, you moved your other foot away from the soft carpet of green and into the ominous grains.

You stood there for a moment, waiting for lightning to strike you dead or for a gaping mouth of sand to swallow you whole. But nothing happened.

Hesitantly, you stretched your hand out in front of you. It was shaking and damp with sweat. You steeled yourself, then with everything you could muster, you visualized a winding road taking shape before you. You wanted bricks of white, smooth marble to cut through the bare landscape and lead you to Morpheus.

Slowly, so slowly at first that you thought it was just a gust of wind tickling the ground, the sand began to move. It was stubborn, like it didn’t want to move for you, but you just focused every thought on Dream, on how badly you wanted this, of that intoxicating quiver that encased your bones when you were near him. As if giving up, it parted like water, revealing a path of snaking black marble cut with veins of gold.

Well, you were going for white marble. But that’s okay.

You let out a gleeful giggle of disbelief and placed a bare foot onto the road. The golden veins glistened to greet you, as if saying hello.

“Wow,” you sighed appreciatively. You brought you other foot to rest on the marble. It was cold.

You cautiously moved one foot in front of the other, eyes in front of you taking in the ever-parting black sand and stormy clouds. With every step you took, the sand parted a bit more, as if where it was leading you was a secret that would only be revealed once you reached your destination. You felt powerful, but also a bit like you were sticking your hand in a proverbial cookie jar.

You weren’t sure how long you walked through the endless dunes of black, but after what felt like an eternity, an ocean appeared and stretched in front of you. The water was almost as dark as the sand, but it glittered with bits of dancing purple and starlight. The streams of glistening color moved through the calm waves as if alive, as if waiting to shape themselves into something once commanded.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

The dark sea sleepily licked the black sand that blew toward it, dancing out of your way. The path was beginning to curve into the water.

With slight trepidation, you edged your big toe into the waves. It swirled around you, tickling your skin, and began to part as well. You placed both feet into the dark ocean with more confidence now. The waves began to divide like the Red Sea. The colorful slivers of starlight were an aurora, swaying through the walls of water. Suddenly, the path dipped deeper into a descending crevice. You couldn’t see the bottom. The edge of sea floor ended abruptly.

Well, you’d made it this far. It would be a shame to turn back now.

With bated breath, you gathered every ounce of courage that you possessed and took the leap. Literally.

You were falling, but it was gentle. The lightless air swirled through your hair like water, but then you realized, it was water. An invisible chord pulled you by your ankle. You were sinking further, further. Your world was shifting and spinning and you didn’t know which way was up.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

You were emerging from the depths, floating into the air, gasping for cool and forgiving oxygen. The sea dripped off you quickly, as if it couldn’t wait to leave your skin, and you were instantly dry. Gently, almost kindly, the dancing air lowered you onto a dark wooden dock.

The sight that met you was unbelievable.

A gargantuan wall of horn and ivory towered in the distance. It was laced with the most beautiful and intricate carvings of faces, creatures, and landscapes that you had ever seen. Even from this far away, you could tell how utterly massive it was. It stood, erect, in the middle of the black sand beach. Unwavering and unmovable.

The moment your foot kissed the black sand, it twisted and separated for you, revealing the same black marble. The golden veins snaking through the stone glimmered again in greeting, like it was happy you’d made the journey.

A childlike smile tugged at your lips. This was more beautiful than even your wildest imaginings.

You followed the welcoming path all the way to the gates, absolutely enthralled by their sheer size the closer you drew. You noticed a massive carving in the middle of the doors, of something resembling a spine connected to the head of an insect. The image reminded you a bit of an antique gas mask.

With tentative but curious fingers, your touch brushed a white gate door, featherlight. You pulled your hand away to find that golden sand was stuck to your fingertips. It glistened in the faint light of the cloudy night sky.

The sound was so deep and trembling that it made you jump back in surprise. It reverberated through the immense ivory walls, making them shake loose more golden sand. You were afraid that you’d broken something, that a giant monster was finally coming to swallow you for wandering outside of your dream, but the sound stopped.

The echo of an enormous bolt unlatching vibrated through the gate and through your body. The marble beneath your feet hummed. The gates were separating for you.

An ever-widening sliver of a view appeared as the doors continued to open. Expecting to see mind-blowing beauty that you couldn’t formulate in your craziest fantasies, you held your breath and resisted an excited giggle.

The sight that met you stole the breath from your lungs.

It was hollow, dark, desolate; an endless stretch of colorless grounds covered in murky water. And at the middle of it all, a once-glorious castle that was crumbling before your very eyes. Gaping holes sat where towers once stood. Spires were bent and decayed. Arches that spoke of past splendor were disintegrating as you watched. Thunder rolled somewhere in the foggy distance.

You had never seen this place before and you didn’t know how long it had been like this. However, something in your gut told you that this was the ultimate tragedy, that this place was once a shimmering gem in the center of this land. A piece of your heart fell into your stomach like a piece of stone falling from the castle wall.

Your quick footsteps echoed around you in the eerie silence. You were certain that if anyone still resided in that castle, without a doubt, they would hear you coming. You were the only speck of life on this bleak stretch of swamp and sand.

You were overcome by a sense of urgency, a need to enter the castle. Would you finally find him, the King of Dreams that overtook your every waking thought? Your chest ached with a longing that felt quite pitiful, really. You were a bit embarrassed by its intensity.

You walked through the decaying threshold. The castle was falling apart just as much on the inside as it was on the outside. You had to keep your eyes on your bare feet to avoid sharp stone and shards of broken glass.

“Excuse me.”

You jolted in surprise, panicked gaze rising to see a figure approaching you from a cracking entryway. She stood at your height, clad in a neat dark suit with coattails. Her brown skin was smooth and almost glistened. She had no hair to hide her pointed ears or her deductive gaze. Her brown eyes were full of intrigue as they assessed you over the top of her circular spectacles.

···

“And who, may I ask, are you?” she questioned. Her tone was business-like but not unfriendly.

You felt like you’d been caught doing something naughty.

“I’m, uh, I’m Y/N,” you replied meekly. The woman’s gaze continued to study you.

“Well, Y/N, I’m afraid you must be lost,” she said, taking a step closer to you, “for you are not supposed to be here.”

You gulped, feeling admonished. So, that gut feeling of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing was right on, then. The woman’s eyes narrowed curiously and she tipped her head to the side, still reading you.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

You looked down, shyly pushing a dull piece of rock around with your foot. You shrugged.

“I just wanted to explore,” you admitted quietly. “Something told me to venture out of my dream. A path led me here.”

“A path?” she repeated, perfectly shaped brows rising in surprise.

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes rising from the floor to meet hers. You felt a spark of pride in your chest. “I made one. If you look outside of the gate, you may still be able to see it.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered in disbelief, taking another step closer to you. She was reviewing you closely now, like if she looked hard enough she would see a clue on your skin.

“You – you created something here in The Dreaming?”

Your brows knitted, confused by her shock.

“Sure. I change things around in my dreams all the time,” you replied, not understanding what the big deal was. You chewed on your lip thoughtfully. “Today was the first time I was able to make something outside of that border, though.”

“Border?” Her voice dripped in incredulity. “You were able to see the border between your dream and another?”

“I haven’t always been able to see it,” you said quickly, like a child trying to placate their parent. “It only started a week ago.”

The woman seemed equal amounts shocked and concerned. Embarrassment poked underneath your skin at her astute stare. She regarded you with a look that made you wonder if you were growing a second head.

“You should not be able to leave your dreams,” she said finally, shaking her head. You thought you detected underlying fear with her concern. “And you should not be able to create whatsoever, let alone a path through the waters to lead you here.”

“Where is here?” you asked, swallowing down your prickling sense of shame.

The woman adjusted her spectacles, sighing. “You are in the heart of The Dreaming.”

“This is the heart?” you asked, looking up at the disintegrating ceiling and destroyed stained glass windows. “It looks… broken.”

“It is,” she said solemnly.

Your reason for being here prodded at the base of your neck, imploring you to ask her what you wanted to know more than anything else.

“Can – can I ask you a question... I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Lucienne,” she replied. Her eyes were suspicious but not unkind.

“Lucienne,” you repeated, giving her a kind smile. “The only reason I left my dream was because I was looking for someone. Hoping to see someone, actually.”

You had piqued her curiosity. She watched you over the edge of her spectacles again.

“And who, pray tell, would that be?”

“Morpheus.”

She blanched, but recovered quickly. “You know Lord Morpheus?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, a bashful smile overtaking your face at the very thought of him, of those eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of your soul. “I released him.”

Lucienne gasped. The sound echoed through your head like a ringing church bell, and suddenly she was gone. The castle melted away and you were surrounded by black nothingness. It was cold. A force pulled at the back of your navel and you were falling, falling, falling…

You shot up in your bed, breathless and gasping for air. Your wobbling hand reached up to your forehead and wiped away a thick layer of sweat.

You collapsed back onto your wet pillow, clamping your eyes shut and punching your soaked sheets.

You were so close.