The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,38

intention to save me, but Whitley’s convinced I’ll meet my death by next week, and I’m inclined to believe her.

Yesterday while drawing out her memories, I was consumed by her overwhelming despair. The helplessness and guilt. The devastation of knowing what’s coming next yet being unable to stop it.

No wonder she dedicated herself to controlling her dreams.

She had no one to turn to for advice, no one to guide her. At least that changes now.

Astrid knew all along Whitley would need her. I’m grateful for her help, even if I am still a little pissed off about the whole electrocuting-my-mate thing.

Whitley was so exhausted when it was over, she fell into a dreamless sleep for eighteen hours, which gave me time to deliberate with a team of my best men. After some discussion, we decided Whitley’s premonition is the opportunity we need to confront the coven. I might be running head-on to my death by going to the Rainbow Field, but we’ll meet them in that spot one way or another.

“Besides,” Kirian adds. “We’ll be on the lake for half of our journey, and trolls are terrified of water, so we’ll be safe from the witches for a short time.”

“True.”

Astrid’s a trooper for insisting on coming with us. Sailing is so not her jam, but if we cut across Issika Lake to the northern part of Dawn and Dusk, we can shave three days off our trip instead of going by land.

Bonus: we can avoid contact with people, for the most part. I hate keeping Whitley a secret. I want nothing more than to announce to everyone in Valora that I’ve found my mate, but I learned from Kirian’s experience—there could be traitors among our citizens. Anyone is a potential threat. The more people we encounter, the more chances of danger there will be.

I’m already dreading the trek through the mountains. The roads aren’t as safe as they used to be, but we have to get to Port Serras in the Night Realm. Not only do they have the best ships, the small fishing city also has one of the biggest military bases. I’ll be able to find a good sailing crew at the citadel.

I pick up a second trunk full of weapons and iron shackles—something we’ve never had to travel with in the past—and secure it above the other storage container.

“How am I supposed to get Whitley to fall in love with me with an entire entourage in tow?” I grump to Kirian. “That’s the biggest downside to this trip—I won’t be able to focus on her like I want to.”

He chuckles. “Welcome to Quinn’s first week here.”

“That’s not the same. You two had years and years to get to know each other. What did you do together in the early days?”

“Quinn read to me.”

I wave a dismissive hand. “I have no need for that. I know Braille, plus I don’t want to constantly remind Whitley of my blindness.”

“You’ll have the nights. I’ll even let you have the best room at the citadel.”

“How kind of you,” I drawl, knowing his order means more than mine in the Night Realm.

Even though we’ve merged our kingdoms, the people there have been slow to pledge their fealty to me. Maybe they don’t think our joint rule will last. Admittedly, Valora doesn’t have the best history when it comes to kings getting along, but in time, they’ll realize they don’t need to worry with Kirian and me. He’s my ride-or-die.

Or is it ride or fly? Die seems so morbid.

“Damon?” Whitley calls from somewhere by the horses in front of the carriage, and a tingle races down my spine.

I shiver, and it’s not from the cold.

Kirian snickers at my reaction. “Yes, it’ll always be that way. When your mate calls, you have no choice but to go.”

As I saunter to Whitley, my heart pumps harder and my veins sizzle. I wonder if she feels it, too, and I listen for her pulse.

Yeah, it’s quick like mine.

“What’s up, baby?”

She laughs. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to sound all… human.”

Shrugging, I toy with a strand of her hair. “It’s what I do. I’ve spent so much time dream walking in human minds, it just comes naturally, even if I do get a saying wrong every now and then.”

“Every now and then?” Quinn guffaws as she walks by. “Try at least half the time.”

Growling, I lead Whitley away to a more private area. See? This is the shit I’m talking about. How am I supposed