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The look of sadness that crossed his features would have been hidden from me in the waking world, masked by his light tone of voice. I could sense some of his emotions when he spoke to me using his fae mindspeak in the waking world… but everyone else probably missed this. Missed how sad he was sometimes. How he hid his wounds.

"He punished us, you know," he said softly. "Defying him lost me my voice. I saw others mutilated too, belittled and tortured when they put their animal parts on display. You gave me the opportunity and excuse to escape. But I guess I'm still not free of him, after all." He tapped his temple. "Not in here."

"Cicely." I held out my arms to him and he came to me, letting me hug him tight as we lay back on the soft mossy ground. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't pester you about it. Of course I want you to feel comfortable. It doesn't matter if that means wearing glamour."

He wrapped his strong arms around me and squeezed me, returning the hug. Then he rolled us so he hovered over me, our hips pressed together and my silly, flouncy fantasy dress tangled around my legs. "You're too perfect, my lovely, wild, witchy mate," he said with a smile, his expression losing some of that shadow of remembered pain and fear. "The way you simply accept everything about me. About everyone you shelter under your sphere of magic and healing… so perfect." He pressed a brief, enthusiastic kiss to my lips, then pulled back, his eyes sparkling. "But enough of that. I have a surprise for you!"

He rolled off me and sprang up onto his hooves again, nearly prancing in place. I couldn't help the amused grin that spread across my lips. "You came up with a new song?"

Cicely loved to play his pan pipes. There was magic in them, and in the music he created, something linked to his fae nature that let him influence people's thoughts and emotions, to lead them on a journey that was so much more than the tune he was playing. He had lost his real pipes in the waking world, when we escaped from the fae court. But he often played for me here, where the dream world let him re-create the instrument.

Cicely only shook his head at me, his shiny blond curls bouncing around the short nubs of his horns. "Oh, no. It's better than that." He winked at me. "I've worked so hard on this. You'd better be impressed."

I sat up cross-legged and grinned. "I promise to be duly impressed with your efforts. Whatever they are."

He nodded once, satisfied. And I knew I had just made a promise to a fae, one that he would demand I fulfill later. But I was more than willing to give this particular fae any reward he demanded.

He came and sat before me, awkwardly folding his goat legs into something resembling my own cross-legged seat. Then he closed his eyes and sat up straight, his magic surging through him and his face relaxing into a sort of meditative concentration. "The world may change a bit," he murmured. "It will probably shrink or warp. Don't be afraid."

He opened one eye to peek at me and I nodded my agreement. Whatever he was about to do involved his dream magic. And it must be big. Usually, he could manipulate dreams effortlessly once they were established, without any need to really concentrate. I watched in anticipation as he closed his eyes again and a crease formed between his brows.

After a few long moments, the air around us began to waver. I glanced around, watching the world grow fuzzy at the edges, the nearby forest around us turning into a mere horizon, as if the dream world ended only a few feet away now, instead of stretching on for miles.

The world around us darkened, as if the sunny summer afternoon was creeping toward dusk. One of the trees off to my left lost all of its leaves, leaving behind a bare, twisting thing with darkened bark and dying branches.

And then I felt it. Fear. Terror. Aching sadness that made me want to turn away before my nightmares could overwhelm me.

Dusek. I sensed Dusek's dark bubak aura. And a second later, a tall, dark man materialized behind Cicely.

A soft "Oh!" escaped me as I took in what I was seeing. The gift Cicely had just given me that plucked at my heartstrings in a bittersweet symphony of love and wonder.

I had never seen the face of any of my friends and lovers, besides Cicely.

I knew Dusek was tall, but I hadn't ever realized how he loomed. He was long and lean, but with broad shoulders, and an aura that exuded menace. He was dressed all in black—a long-sleeved black t-shirt and black leather pants, black boots. His hair was dark as night, and it fell to brush his shoulders in gleaming black waves. Glowing red eyes watched me intently from a face that was unnaturally pale and chiseled. My eyes wanted to play tricks on me, and I had the strangest feeling… that his face would morph into a skull when I wasn't looking directly at him.

I stood and moved around Cicely, who had opened his eyes and was now watching me appreciate my gift with a soft, fond smile.

"Is it really you?" I asked the dark man as I paced closer, my bare feet rustling the dry leaves of the forest floor. I couldn't take my eyes off the vision before me, but I spoke over my shoulder to Cicely. "This isn't just a… construct. A part of the dream you've made to tease me?" The faun was very talented at making dreams feel real.

"I'm real," Dusek answered, his deep voice rippling through me and sparking both fear and excitement, the way it always did in the real world. He studied my face intently. "Is it too much? Have I ruined your beautiful dream?" He lifted a long arm to gesture around us, at the beautiful forest that was now painted in shades of dusk and haunting melancholy.

I shook my head adamantly as I came to a halt before the beautiful man. "It's not too much. It's perfect. You're perfect!" My vision blurred as tears sprang up, emotion overwhelming me. "Hello, Dusek."

He smiled softly, even that expression carrying a hint of sadness. But there was fondness there too, love in his eyes. He was simply afraid—as always was—of scaring me away. He couldn't help the aura of fear that trailed him wherever he went. And it made him distance himself from me. I had no idea how Cicely had talked Dusek into allowing this, but I was so grateful he had.

Reaching out, I took Dusek's hands, glancing down to watch his long fingers wrap around my own, engulfing my smaller hands. I had felt it before, of course. But seeing it was different. New and exciting. I glanced at his face again, hungrily drinking in those strange red eyes and the inhuman angles of him. "Thank you for coming."

He released one of my hands so he could hesitantly reach out and wipe away my tears. His touch sent another bolt of fear racing through me, but I ignored it, too caught up in the sheer pleasure of being able to see his face when he touched me, of being able to easily read the questions and concerns in that expression. "Don't cry," he whispered. "I can leave." He glanced behind me, toward Cicely. "I told you this was a terrible idea. Now I've made her cry. Wake me up, faun."

I squeezed the hand that still held mine. "I'm not upset that you're here," I told him firmly. "They're tears of joy, you ridiculous man."

He didn't look at all convinced, but he didn't argue. Cicely came to join us, and at a mere thought, a comfortable-looking seating area appeared, complete with plump cushions and a low table with teacups and a steaming pot of tea.

"Come sit down," the fawn said with a smile. "As much as I love to see the joy in your eyes, Ru, we do have things to discuss."

"Fine, fine," I said grumpily. "But one thing first."

Then I turned to Dusek and pushed up onto my tiptoes, looping my arms around his neck and shuddering at the shiver of fear that caused. Not giving him time to pull away, I pulled him down to me as I surged upward, pressing my lips to his.

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