He tilted his head. “It’s not mine either.”
They stood there, caught in something fragile and luminous.
“I think we’re dreamwalking,” she said, frowning.
“Thought that only happened to bonded pairs.”
She hesitated. “It does.”
He looked as if he knew better than to say anything. What was there to say anyway?
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said, and for once, her voice cracked.
“I know.”
“I didn’t want you here. Not like this. Not because of a curse.”
“I know that too.”
He stepped closer. Her pulse jumped. She could smell the cedar in his hair, feel the heat radiating off him.
“You’ve always been fire,” he said. “Even when I was just watching you from across from the tavern. Always too bright to touch.”
“And you were always trouble,” she murmured. “Golden, arrogant trouble that couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
He smiled. “That last part isn’t true, not anymore. But the rest...”
Another step. Now he was close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss.
She didn’t. Neither did he.
“Why did the bond pull us into this?” she asked.
“Maybe it’s tired of waiting for us to admit what we already know.”
A soft wind blew through the garden. The stars shifted.
And then she blinked—and they were both waking, tangled on the couch and floor, dawn pressing pink light against the windows.
Her hand still in his.
She pulled away gently. His eyes opened. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. But everything had changed.
Something inside her heart had cracked open just enough to let the light in.
And Dominic was no longer just the lion who’d ruined her spell.
He was the man who shared her dreams.
15
DOMINIC
Morning came soft and slow, with golden light leaking between the curtains and dust motes dancing lazily in the air like they’d never known a storm. Dominic stirred, blinking against the brightness, then groaning low as a familiar ache rolled through his shoulder.
Right. The shadow beast. The couch. The damn bond.
And her.
