Page 76 of A Story of Sinners

“Ryken has visited you then,” Eulalia stated.

“Every night,” I whispered in response, and my friends went silent. My fingers clutched my napkin tight as I thought back to the countless dreams I’d had, featuring a softer, kinder Ryken. Could that loving version really be him? I chewed on my lip. “Gabriella, you say that he can touch you in your dream?”

Every time Ryken attempted to touch me within the dream, he was booted out by some unseen force.

Gabriella pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes. Light caressing and such, but it’s never been more than that.”

Eulalia whistled. “Fin and I do a lot more than light caresses.”

I chuckled at Eulalia’s joke, then smiled at Gabriella—the woman who’d seemed to melt the heart of one of the most terrifying males I’d ever seen. In a way, Kieran put Ryken and even Malachi to shame. With his haunting red eyes and that power that filled others with terror, it was a struggle to maintain bladder control around the male.

It dawned on me then, and I gritted my teeth, silently berating myself for not seeing the truth after all this time. Ryken had been real, and that unknown force that pushed him away was also real.

I shook my head as I thought back on the sudden darkness that would cast over my dreamscape like a shadow and nearly groaned. Instead, I breathed through the frustration, determined not to ruin my friends’ night or distract them from their excitement. They talked and laughed, digging into the fresh feast before them, and I joined in, laughing along.

Amidst our conversation, I silently devised a plan for what would come next.

My dreams were being tampered with, and not only by Ryken. Tonight would be the last time I would allow it to happen.

Chapter31

Dahlia

Iawaited Ryken’s arrival and sat along the trunk of the golden tree he always found me at. It was abnormal for him to take so long. Typically, he arrived minutes after I closed my eyes, which I now understood meant he anxiously anticipated the moment I fell asleep each night. Whether he stayed up waiting or just slid over from his own dream was unknown. Regardless, it was reassuring to know that after all this time and distance, there was still a part of him that cared.

I kicked myself at the thought of Dream Ryken being real. So many times, I had insulted the flesh and blood male to his face, but he never acted indignant or offended, only laughed and played along, smiling as he joined in on my insults, denigrating himself with me.

My fingers trailed along a long, golden wheat, slowly plucking the bran from it as I waited. A small part of me worried at what took him so long. Anything could have happened. Anything could have changed, and if something had, I would never know. I held no inkling of what occurred in his day-to-day life, and since I’d thought him to be imaginary, I had never bothered asking.

The air in my dream state shifted, as if a small door had opened and closed across the field, and my lips straightened into a line. If I’d ever bothered to pay attention to my dream and its surroundings, the shift in the air would have been a dead giveaway.

Silly me.

He approached, dressed in a simple black tunic and leather pants. His crown was gone, as it was in my dreams of late, as if the nighttime was his sole opportunity to shirk the responsibilities it demanded. His silver hair looked neat and well kept. Leaves were still etched into the shaved sides, and it looked as if the top of his hair had been freshly trimmed. The skin beneath his eyes looked dark, signaling a rough day, a day that had worn him to the bone. Yet his silver irises held a quality of brightness, as if this dream was the one thing to finally offer an inkling of relief.

Gods, we’d been so stupid, both of us wasting time as if it were limitless.

I smiled at him as he plopped down beside me, leaning against a small section of the golden tree. With a deep inhale, he closed his eyes and hummed, his lips tilting up.

“How are you, Dahlia?”

I should have confronted him, but I was terrified that if he knew I was aware of his little scheme, it would come to an end. So, I waited. “I’m well. How are you? You look tired, Dream Ryken.”

He chuckled, his eyes still shut. “Dreams don’t get tired.”

I was an impatient fool and couldn’t wait any longer, especially with that opening. “Yes, but fae who invade another’s dreamscapes certainly do.”

His body went rigid, and he hissed, slowly opening his eyes, as if mortified. Silver eyes danced across my face, a flash of panic filling them. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I couldn’t help but snort. “I’m not mad.”

“You said you never wanted to speak to me again,” he whispered, slightly confused shifting his body closer. “I directly contradicted what you wished for and invaded your dreams.”

“I didn’t know that,” I replied, tilting my head to study his movements. His body was crouched now, knees bent as he took a fighting stance. His fists were clenched, holding tightly to the earth, as if he would be tossed from my dream at any moment. “You can relax, Ryken. I’m not kicking you out.”

He remained crouched. Unmoving. Shocked and reluctant.

“I don’t understand,” Ryken said in a rough voice.

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