Page 122 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
Bodin’s glare silences her instantly, a reminder of who’s in charge. His eyes never meet mine as he outlines the evening’s plan—we’ll take turns jumping into each other’s dreamscapes, finding exits without harm.
Panic claws at my throat. Nobody should see what I dream about. I could inadvertently reveal everything. What is he thinking? Glancing down the line of troops, I notice other Radiants issuing similar directives. We’re not alone in this exercise.
When Bodin dismisses us and retreats to his tent, I count two thundering heartbeats before following. I find him rummaging through his pack, pulling out—of all things—rations of human food.
“Bodin,” I say, struggling to keep desperation from my voice.
He straightens, fixing me with the same withering glare he gave Maggie. “Did you just enter my tent without permission, Shadow?”
I blink, mind reeling. What’s happening here?
My eyes dart between his face and the food he’s unwrapping as if he intends to eat it. My heart plummets. He’s forgotten. All day, I thought he was simply maintaining the ruse, but Titania’s spell has ensnared his mind once more.
Didn’t Styx reveal his Sluagh form to Bodin overnight? Is that method of combatting the spell not working anymore?
He stalks towards me, nostrils flaring. Frustration and something darker tighten his features when I fail to avert my gaze respectfully. Panic engulfs me. I stammer an apology,fleeing the tent to my bedroll, mind whirling. I need to find Styx. Legion needs to know, too.
“Hey, Willow.” Miguel’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. He holds out a steaming bowl. “I brought you seconds. I know you like my cooking, so . . . yeah.”
“Um, thanks, Miguel, but I’m not that hu?—”
“Take it,” he insists, thrusting the bowl forward. Soup sloshes onto my fingers, leaving me no choice but to accept.
“Okay.” I force a tight smile.
He doesn’t leave, staring at me with a crooked grin. Is he waiting for me to eat?
Oh no. It’s happening. I’m in heat. No, no, no.
“I’m just going to set this down for a moment. Is that okay?”
He scowls. “But I made it, especially for you.”
“I need to see to my . . . female needs.” I grimace, slowly collecting my cape while keeping a wary eye on him. It’s not exactly a lie.
“Oh, sure.” He nods, looking lost. “I’ll just . . . wait over here.”
I pull my cape tight around my shoulders, praying it blocks the pheromones radiating from my body. Geraldine sidles up, concern etched on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Smell me,” I demand, fanning air from my neck towards her.
Her face scrunches in disgust, and then realization dawns. “Oh, you smell kind of . . . nice. In a weird way. Did you get perfume in Heliodor?”
“No,” I groan. “It’s my heat.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s my, um, cycle.” I wince. “It only happens every other month. Unlike pureblooded humans, I get really . . . hot”—yeah, that’s one way of putting it, Willow—“and smell kind of . . . attractive.”
She presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up. How bad is it going to get?”
“Bad enough that I shouldn’t be around anyone. It’s not just them. I also get very . . . turned on.” I bite my lip, humiliation burning through me. “I might dream things I shouldn’t. Actually, I’lldefinitelydream things I shouldn’t.”
“Oh no. Did you tell Bodin?” she whispers.
“He’s lost his memory again,” I reply quietly.
“Damn,” she says. “That’s not good. He’ll get it back, though, right?”
