Page 77 of Snatched By the Sandman

For the first time in our history, the God of Dreams and the God of Nightmares will not fight each other. We will fight together.

Chapter 27

Would a blanket fort help?

NYXION

“Shattered” by Trading Yesterday

“Angel of Small Death and Codeine Scene” by Hozier

“Born Without a Heart” by Faozia

“What’s with all the little sheep?” Phantasos asks, having entered Zenya’s room shortly before Morpheus and I.

Dozens of small sheep float about the room, taking the term ‘counting sheep’ to a new level.

Hecate drapes a wool blanket over our little dreamer’s shoulders as Zenya rubs her eyes before burying her face in her hands. “Counting them didn’t work.”

Phantasos chuckles and pokes at one sheep, which bleats. “At least you didn’t weave wolves in sheep’s clothing, too. Then, we’d really have a mutton problem.”

Zenya yawns and shakes out her purple hair. “I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep.”

All she wears is a thin silk slip with one strap falling down her shoulder. I won’t deny how hard I get at the outline of her breasts and the stiff little nipples prodding the sheer fabric. Or how her worn state and need for sleep stir a primal craving to help her, protect her—even in this simple regard.

Morpheus approaches, his shadows curling around her in soothing tendrils. “What do you need, sweet weaver?”

“I don’t know.” She lifts her knees to her chest, curling in on herself. “It’s just…the bed is so big, and I don’t have the energy to do more right now. And the fear that I’ll never sleep is getting to me.”

My breath hitches as I take stock of the surroundings, the abundance of blankets and pillows along the sofas and the bed.Would a blanket fort help?

Every eye in the room turns to me. Zenya stares at me, tears glistening as she swallows a hard knot. I hold a thousand breaths as I wait for her to chastise me for suggesting something so childish. Or having the audacity to speak to her.

“It would,” she says softly.

Hecate smiles down at her and leans down to kiss her head. Morpheus arches a brow.

“A blanket fort sounds positively lovely,” agrees Phantasos. “Should I morph into some objects for this?”

I shake my head.No need.I set to work, constructing the necessary frame, getting the bones down—literally—until I’ve fused all the femurs into a worthy fixture for our little dreamer. Morpheus and Phantasos do the rest by propping mounds of pillows along the sides of the structure—Morpheus’s shadows holding many in place—while Hecate handles the blankets.

Per Zenya’s request, Morpheus and Hecate join her inside the fort, one on each side to offer their comforting presence and warmth.

Phantasos stabs his chin at me, leveling with my gaze. “I’m going to spend some time with Ivy and make sure she stays out of trouble, especially if Daddy sends any more storms and reavers.”

I will stay here and ensure no harm comes to Zenya while she sleeps. No reaver will penetrate this room…I expand my bone dust to frame the room—much like a tripwire to signal me. Morpheus does the same with his shadows.

Through a small gap in the fort, I find Zenya settling down, curled into the fetal position with her back to Hecate and facing Morpheus. Hecate kisses the back of her bare shoulder and weaves a strong arm around her. Morpheus plays with her hair and strokes her cheek while singing a dark and deep lullaby—simple and delicate but haunting with its minor, melancholic tone.

I form a chair of bones and remain close to the door, alert for any shift in the environment.

Since the territory of nightmares is often accompanied by a lack of sleep, remaining awake has never been an issue for me. Morpheus prefers to get lost in dreams. I prefer to observe.

“Hmm…” Zenya sighs contentedly, her head deepening onto the pillow as my brother continues the dark and mystical tune.

At the barest pause in his singing, Zenya whispers into the darkness, “Thank you, Nyxion.”

A wave of emotion crashes over me—as powerful as a stormy ocean surf thundering against a cliff side.

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