Page 89 of Cryptic Dreams
My mate gives me a soft smile as I sit, scooting the chair close enough that I may reach out and take her hand. Her hand that squeezes mine in reassurance. “I’m ok.”
“Zephyr…”
“I am, really,” she says. “My head still hurts a bit, but I’m ok. It’ll pass.”
“What, exactly, will pass, my love? I’m afraid I understand very little of what the hell happened a few short hours ago.”
Zephyr looks down briefly at where our hands join then lifts her gaze to some place over my shoulder as she gnaws her full bottom lip.
And while watching two of her four fangs tug at the petal soft skin usually has my mind drifting to images of us in the most indecent of situations, right now it has my concern for my mate doubling because it shows that she’s still hesitant to share her secret with me. So, I lean closer to her, my elbows resting on the side of our bed as I bring her fingers to my lips and sigh. “Please, my love. If you have any explanation for what transpired at the Hall, I beg that you share it with me now because my frayed nerves can’t endure anymore of the unknown.”
To my great relief, Zephyr nods and meets my eyes. “I have a… a gift.”
“A gift?”
“Yes. At least, that’s what my parents called it, even though I’ve always felt like it was more of a curse.”
I frown but do not interrupt. If I do, I fear my mate will refrain from telling me what I so desperately need to hear, from answering the many questions I still have despite solidifying our bond.
No, I say nothing, voice not one of the thoughts running through my head and attempt to keep them at bay so my mate is not hit with an onslaught of worried comments while she finally shares this with me.
“Ever since I was little, I’ve had dreams. Dreams that bordered on prophetic, visions of the future and things that I couldn’t possibly know but knew to be truth anyway.” Zephyr leans back against the headboard, her anxiety spiking even though her body relaxes. “That’s how it started, dreams and sometimes nightmares, but eventually I started seeing more.”
Silently, I hold my mate’s gaze and begin tugging the glove from her hand. I’m not sure if it’s our bond and the fact that Zephyr is finally letting down the wall between us, or if it’s just my own abilities and intuition, but I have a feeling the need for the accessory is about to be explained. And it has everything to do with the beautiful designs that grace the palms of my love’s delicate hands.
She nods as her eyes drift closed. “When I was four, my mother and I were out back tending to the garden behind the house. It was close to sunrise and I was begging her to stay outside long enough to see the first few rays of the morning sun… I didn’t fully understand at the time why we couldn’t do that, so I’d been pestering her all night, then became rather defiant shortly before we needed to go inside.” Zephyr smiles a bit, but it’s a touch sad. “Mom was pretty fed up with me actually, so when I planted my bare feet in the grass and refused to go inside, she grabbed my hand in order to drag me along if need be, but I didn’t budge.”
“And not just because you were being your adorable stubborn self,” I say as I press a kiss to her palm.
“No,” my mate whispers. “I couldn’t move, was practically rooted to the ground beneath me, and it was because I was hit with so many memories—memories that were not mine—that it completely immobilized me. I saw my mother as a child, saw her life in Egypt, my grandparents I’d never met. I saw her entire life up until that point flash through my mind like a movie, the images racing by so quickly, yet slowly enough to decipher, and then I blacked out.”
“Like you did tonight.”
Zephyr nods. “I don’t normally black out, not anymore, but I did that first time, and if I see too much from someone’s past it can still happen from time to time. It just hasn’t because I got used to it and would prevent it from happening in every way possible.”
“Hence the many layers despite the Louisiana heat.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes open slowly and connect with mine. “Any skin to skin contact can bring a person’s entire life forward in my head. Everything they’ve done, everything they’ve been through. Secrets and lies, experiences and encounters. I see all of it from one simple touch, and the most concentrated point of contact is through my hands.”
“Which is why you wear gloves. An attempt to avoid any unwelcome memories filling your pretty head.”
“It’s the explanation for a lot of things, Wraith. Maybe even everything about how I was living before I met you.”
Unsure if I should be flattered or offended by that, I press another kiss to her palm, then frown. “Do you see—”
“No.” Zephyr sighs. “I don’t see anything when we touch.”
“Nothing at all?”
She shakes her head.
“How peculiar…” And it is. Especially if what happened tonight means that my mate got a headful of shite directly from my sire when he put his hands on her. Which is why I ask, “But with Atticus, you saw thousands of years of shite?”
Zephyr nods. “I can’t quite make sense of it, there was just so much that ran through my head when he touched my face, but I will once the headache subsides and I’m able to slow the images down.”
“You can do that? Sift through what you see after contact is broken?”
“I can. And it stays with me forever. Which is why I also dream about the future. I only see the future for people I touch.”
