Page 5 of A Spark Of Revenge

“Mi Sol?” I whisper, brushing her blonde locks away from her beautiful face, my heart stalling when I finally see her. I let my arms move protectively around her small body, curvier than I remembered from her dreams, and simply stare at the goddess I somehow have the privilege of holding. Mi Sol is small for a Dream Walker and a Hunter, but she is average height and build for a human—no wonder she could blend into that world for as long as she had.

My eyes dart from her face to her chest when she doesn't respond, catching the movement there and trying to calm my racing heart with reassurance that she is still breathing. Even still, my fingers move to her neck, finding her fluttering pulse instantly, calming my fears further. Next, I look around us, trying to spot the Beastia whose howl I had heard, but I frown when I see that we are in a dark, dusty room; no Beastia or threat in sight.

My head spins, and I groan, having moved far too quickly for my half-dead state. I feel like I have been trampled in a pit of feral Therion, then pulled out and thrown into the Leviathan abyss. Slowly, I release my hold on Meyer's calming magic, letting it filter back into her, not liking how the power exchange caused a loss of consciousness. I need more; my head is spinning like a top, and my body feels like it is hovering somewhere between the realms of life and death. But I refuse to take anything more from the girl in my arms if it causes her any harm. I’ll have to come up with another way to collect a life source.

As Meyer's magic settles around her, I take in our surroundings. Where are we? Is this a room in the Umbra Hunter’s Castle? It seems rather stupid of the Seniorem to put a threat so close to their personal space, but I wouldn't put anything past Arthur Axford. The old crow is so full of himself that he would probably lock the King of Hell in the same room with him and believe his spells would be enough to protect him.

I vaguely recall Meyer mentioning that she had felt my presence somewhere outside the castle before she had come to her dreamscape. I sigh, my arms tightening around her still form as I look around.

There is an odd ringing in my ears now that I have released my hold on Meyer’s magic, and I’m not sure if it's my vision swimming, making my stomach roll, or if it's my entire body. “Both,” I grunt out, moving one hand from Meyer's waist to help brace myself so I don't end up face-first on the cold wooden planks under us. “Mi Sol,” I whisper as I slowly set her back on the ground, not wanting to risk dropping her if I lose consciousness. “I need you to open those beautiful eyes for me,” I rasp, needing to know she is okay before my body tries to shut down.

Sounds from outside the room where we reside have my head jerking to the side, my lip curls into a snarl as darkness whispers around my fingers, moving from my hands to Meyer’s delicate skin. I watch with sick fascination as her soft, creamy skin darkens under my touch, and my eyes shift; the side of me I keep on such a short leash is awakening at her Shade’s presence.

Hmm, there is more Dream Walker in her than I initially thought. The revelation is like a shot of lust and adrenaline as I pull back my magic and whisper a spell, a green light spilling over us, ensuring she and I will be safe until I have enough power to allow us to escape this place.

My magic slowly rolls over our bodies, then expands, ballooning around us like a tiny shield, keeping our magic signatures and presence confined within. No Umbra Hunter should be able to feel or hear us until I release the spell. The room continues spinning and getting darker as I ensure Meyer is safe on the ground next to me. She whimpers and flinches the smallest amount when her cheek touches the cold floor, and I smile.

“Wake up for me, Regina,” I whisper, using both hands to lower myself next to her, ignoring the pain in every muscle of my body as I stare at the only thing that matters at this moment. Meyer stirs, muttering something under her breath, and I chuckle when I finally make sense of her slurred words.

“You curse worse than any lady I have met before. It’s rather refreshing,” I muse as I watch her every breath. I’m entranced by the woman in front of me, and I can feel an obsession starting to take hold. I can only hope that she will forgive me once I tell her the truth about her world, because it’s far too late to put distance between us. Meyer is mine, and I will do whatever it takes to convince her of that fact.

THREE

Meyer

“Mi Sol?” Valen's calm voice washes over me, relaxing my frazzled mind and soothing my aching heart. But the feeling only lasts a moment before reality comes rushing back, yanking me from the peaceful slumber I had fallen into and thrusting me back into the cold, harsh life I’d been forced into. The momentary bliss of hearing Valen once more is broken by the reminder that I failed him. That he was gone and that I would never see his small smile or watch as his brilliant pale green eyes lit up in amusement as he watched me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, grounding myself to the feeling of cold wood against my face as hot tears fall down my cheeks. “Are you injured?” a deep, melodic voice asks tiredly. Valen! My breath hitches when I feel a strand of my hair moving away from my cheek before cold fingertips brush at the tears there. When a hand resting on my hip—something I hadn’t noticed until this moment—moves up to cradle my face, I gasp, my eyes springing open. I jerk back, my hand moving for one of my blades before remembering I threw my last one at Lennox’s face before I ran.

As my eyes focus on white-blond hair and pale green eyes, my mouth drops open in shock. My mind reels, trying to catch up with what I’m seeing in front of me.

“Valen?” Shock and confusion rushes through me as I stare at the man lying on the ground next to me. “Wait… am I? Shit, am I dreaming? Did I pull you into my dreams?” I ask in a panic, pushing myself up on my elbows, watching Valen like a hawk, scared that if I let him out of my sight, he’ll disappear. Valen chuckles and rolls onto his back so he can keep his eyes on me as I lean over him.

“No, not dreaming. It's far too cold to be a dream.”

“It was freaking freezing in my dreams, what are you talking about?” I ask in confusion, still not believing him. I chance a glance around me, finding us lying on the floor of the old church, which helps settle a little of my shock and nerves, but not much. Looking back toward him, I sigh in relief as I wipe at the stray tears that still cling to my cheeks. Valen is here! He’s here and alive, looking as perfect as ever!

“Yes, but this time, I’m cold. I…I wa-was never cold in your d-dreams. Only the dreamer can truly be harmed in their dreams, nev-er the Dream Walker,” Valen murmurs, his voice soft and … weak. Not to mention slurred, as if he was drunk. “Well, unless the drrreamer somehow makes the Beastia physical,” he adds, arching a brow at me and making me cringe. “Then they are both in t-trouble.”

Yeah… my bad. I move to add a smartass remark, but stop as I study him.

Shit, the more I look at him, the more I realize he’s not his normal perfect self as I first thought when seeing him. There are dark rings under his eyes, and even though he is smiling at me, it's not as bright as it typically is. His body is trembling slightly, and it looks like his breathing is labored. But even with all that, Valen only stares up at me, a small smile in place.

“You're real,” is the only thing I can say, and holy shit, I could facepalm myself right now. Really? That's what you're going to say to him when he’s in such bad shape? I cringe at myself and shake my head. There are a hundred things I could have said like, are you okay? How can I help? Or even thank you for being there for me. Yet the only thing I managed to say is you're real.

But I have been through so much over the last few weeks that I was starting to question whether I had made Valen up or not. Crazier things have happened to me, so I honestly wouldn't put it past myself to dream up a man who was kind and wanted to protect me.

Valen chuckles, his eyelids fluttering shut for a moment, which makes my heart stall in my chest, worried he passed out or something. “Yes. I’m real, Regina,” he whispers, the smallest hint of a smile still present on his full lips. “Just… tired. I need a moment,” he admits, and I nod, looking around the church.

My eyes flick back to him as he suddenly shifts, rummaging in the many pockets on his outfit that I actually examine now that I’m certain he isn’t going to disappear or die. No longer clad in the noble’s garb from my dream, he appears to be in a black tactical suit, the type you’d expect to see special ops in. He grunts as he manages to pull what looks to be a large silver coin from a pocket on his broad chest. He runs his graceful fingers over the face of the disc and groans.

“What’s wrong? What is that?” I lean anxiously over him.

“Hmm?” his eyes meet mine, and I’m surprised by the potent mix of anger and sadness that I find there. His gaze softens, and a rueful smile crosses his face as he hands the disc to me. “This is just a timekeeper of sorts. I’m surprised that it is still working,” he admits softly. I gently cradle the timepiece in my hands and smooth over the surface like Valen just had. With my touch, a series of foreign symbols briefly fill the face, and I narrow my eyes, studying the beautiful marks. They resemble the same symbols used by the Umbra Hunters but are slightly more complex. Like tiny works of art etched into the silver facade.

“And the clock upset you because?” I gently press.

“Regina….I knew I was in that damn box for a while, but I didn’t think that it had been four whole years.” I rock back from him as if slapped, horror flooding me as I watch Valen's sad face.

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