The first night it happened, she woke screaming.
Sweat clung to Ariana's skin like a second layer. The stone ceiling above her blurred and twisted before settling back into focus.
Damien was already at her side, hand on her arm, his eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"You saw him," he said flatly.
She nodded, too shaken to speak.
---
In the dream:
She was in a palace of mirrors—crimson walls, obsidian floors. And Xander sat upon a throne that bled shadows. He looked just like Damien, except for the cold—this emptiness behind his charm.
And his voice. It slithered like velvet across her skin.
"I wouldn't have waited six nights, little flame. I would've claimed you the first moment I tasted your fear."
She stood her ground, but the dream wrapped around her like silk.
He offered her things—images of Damien dead at her feet, of her ruling beside him in a court carved from stars and screams. Power. Immortality. Lust without restraint.
And… the terrifying thing?
Part of her wanted to see more.
---
Back in reality.
Ariana paced as Damien watched from the shadows, tension radiating from him.
"You're not marked. But he's wormed inside your head," Damien said.
"He's trying to tempt me," she murmured. "But I can twist it. I can see things. Places he hides. Weaknesses. If I stay in the dream longer."
"No," Damien growled. "You don't play with nightmare fire. It always burns."
She turned to him, lips parted.
"I'm already marked by something worse. You. And I'm still breathing."
His eyes darkened.
She stepped closer, touched his chest, where his heartbeat thundered.
"I'm not a girl anymore, Damien. I'll use what I have."
He grabbed her wrist. "If he hurts you in there…"
"I hurt him back."
---
The second dream:
Ariana didn't wake up screaming this time.
She let the dream take her.
She stood in a grand ballroom of black chandeliers and blood-red silk. Xander waited at the far end, dressed like a king of monsters.
But this time, she smiled.
"You think this scares me?" she asked.
He tilted his head, amused. "No. I think it excites you."
He walked toward her, each step echoing in her bones. He circled her like a predator.
"I can show you things your precious Damien would never dare," he whispered in her ear. "Give you power. Pleasure. Purpose."
She turned. Eyes blazing.
"Show me, then."
---
The dream shifted—ripping her into a war-torn memory from Xander's past. Ariana saw the death of his first mate. The betrayal that broke him. The twisted rituals he used to try and bring her back.
And the moment he decided love was weakness.
She woke gasping—bleeding from her nose. But alive.
Damien held her, arms tight.
"What did you see?" he demanded.
Her voice shook.
"His pain. His rage. His obsession with control. He's not just trying to break us—he wants to rewrite what we are."
She met Damien's eyes.
"We can use that."