Page 85 of Cursed Dreams
Caelum tilted his head, watching her carefully. “Don’t be. I just needed to know. Are you with someone?”
She scrambled for words. “No. I’m not. It’s not like that.” She hesitated, hating the twist in her gut. “It’s… complicated.”
She didn’t mention the light. Vaelith’s broken expression. She didn’t say anything and she didn’t even know why. She had questions, yet in this moment she couldn’t seem to find the courage to voice them. It wasn’t like she belonged to Caelum. He was trapped. In another realm. In dreams. He wasn’t hers, andshe wasn’t his. Wanting more was impossible. So why did her heart twist like this?
Caelum was quiet for a long moment, then finally said, “I understand.”
But something in his voice, low, pained, told her he didn’t entirely.
He looked away, jaw tight. When he spoke again, his voice was lighter. “This celebration… it’s beautiful.”
She blinked, surprised by the shift. “It is.”
A distant smile crossed his lips. “In my court, we had something like this. When the seasons turned. We’d cover the trees in silver-threaded lanterns. Dance in the snow until our boots wore through. There’d be music, wine, fire pits and laughter that echoed through the woods for hours.”
She stared at him, imagining it. his world, full of ancient beauty and magic, lost now to time and war. The way his voice softened with longing made her chest ache.
“I’d love to see it,” she said quietly.
His eyes returned to hers, bright and endless.
“I want you to,” he said. “Gods, Thalia. I want so badly for you to see it.” His voice caught slightly. “I miss it more than I can explain.”
A strange swell of emotion rose in her, grief for something she never knew, never saw, but suddenly longed for.
Caelum turned to her fully, his voice lowering, intimate. “Will you dance with me?”
She hesitated. Her heart was already tangled. Torn between past and present. Shadow and dream. The warmth of one manand the light of another. She looked into Caelum’s eyes noting the way he looked at her like she was something precious, the answer left her lips before she could think.
“Yes.”
The moment Thalia’s fingers touched Caelum’s, the world around her shifted. She rose from her seat as if in a trance, barely aware of the music still playing, the distant laughter, the lights dancing across the square. All she could feel was the warmth of his palm against hers, the steady pull of something unseen, like a thread of fate had looped itself around them and was drawing them ever closer.
Caelum led her toward the edge of the square where the music was slower, softer. The dancers there moved in a gentle sway, bathed in golden lanternlight. Everything else seemed to blur around the edges.
He turned to face her, one hand resting against the small of her back, the other gently holding her hand. His touch was feather-light, reverent, as though he feared she were made of glass. Thalia looked up into his eyes and nearly forgot how to breathe. They swirled with soft starlight, pale blue with hints of silver and something ancient. Something that felt like it had always belonged to her.
They moved in slow circles, his steps graceful, fluid as though he had danced these very steps a hundred lifetimes and remembered them all. Thalia followed, unsure of herself at first, until she realized he was guiding her not just with his hands but with the weight of his gaze, the rhythm of his breath. He moved as if she were music. She let herself be pulled into it.
Her heart pounded as she leaned into him, letting the scent of his skin, cedarwood and pine, wrap around her like a cloak.Everything about him felt right. Familiar. Her soul curled toward him like a flower toward the sun.
“I never imagined this,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
“What?” she whispered.
“That I’d dance with you. That I’d touch you.” His thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “In dreams, you always vanished before I could. You’d slip through my fingers like mist. But now…”
She looked up at him, unable to speak. Her throat thickened with emotion.
“There’s a thread between us,” he said softly. “I felt it the moment your name reached me. Even before I saw your face. I knew you were real. I just didn’t know how beautiful you would be.”
Her chest ached. “Caelum…”
“I know it’s impossible,” he said, almost to himself. “I know I shouldn’t hope. But I do. Every time I see you, I hope for more.”
Thalia felt the words burn through her. She had no idea what to say, what to feel. She was lightheaded, her emotions a flood, but there was no fear. No resistance. Only the deep resolute certainty that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her temple.
