The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,57

Tibbs’ loyalty knows no bounds. Neither would ever slack on the job.

Hopping over their slumped bodies, I push through the ajar door and go straight to the bed. I grope at the still-warm sheets.

Whitley’s gone.

Rage blazes inside me. It’s so intense, I want to roar and destroy anything in my path, but that won’t help her. I can’t let anger cloud my judgement. I need to be alert.

Whitley’s fear intensifies, fueling my own. Someone took her, and recently. Her sweet smell lingers in the air as if she’d just walked by.

No time can be wasted now. Whoever has her couldn’t have gotten far.

Going back to the stairwell, I follow her smell to the bottom level. It just disappears, as if she vanished into thin air.

I take a second to connect with the bond, searching for any evidence of her nearness. A sizzle on my skin or the fizzy feeling in my veins.

Nothing.

She’s not here.

Half-flying, half running, I ascend the stairs and reach the top of the tower in seconds. A few confused guards startle at my sudden appearance.

“Have you seen Whitley?” I demand, my voice gruff with panic.

“No, your majesty,” one responds, while the others give a similar answer.

“She’s missing. Search the citadel and the surrounding areas.”

They don’t question me when I fling myself off the ledge, and as I fly away I hear them shout to the other soldiers. Someone starts ringing the alarm.

Hard and fast, I flap my wings and head north. I don’t know if I’m going in the right direction. I’m letting my instincts guide me, letting my soul reach out to Whitley’s to see if I can get an answering call. The terrifying sensations increase a little, so I push on.

There—a slight buzz in my chest.

I’m getting closer.

Then I hear the most beautiful sound. Whitley’s voice. It’s faint and far below, but I hear her murmur something. I also hear the wind bouncing off the mountains, and my heart stutters when I realize where she is.

The Shadowlands. She’s standing right outside.

“Whitley!”

Instead of coming toward me, she cries out and bolts in the opposite direction. Her feet pound against the hard path, crunching in the snow.

“Whitley!”

She doesn’t stop, and it’s like she’s running for her life.

Why would she be scared of me?

If I can’t get to her in time, she’ll enter the Shadowlands.

I’m unarmed. Getting her back would be a challenge. I definitely wouldn’t come out unscathed, but it’s not me I’m worried about.

Hopefully it won’t come to that.

Tucking my wings against my back, I free fall head-first toward the ground. I let them fan out just in time, my toes scraping against the dirt as I swoop in and grab Whitley around the middle.

We’re so close to the entrance of the cavern that the tip of my wing hits the rough opening, snapping a bone in the intricate structure.

Gritting my teeth through the pain, I hold onto my thrashing mate as I take to the sky. “Whitley. Whitley, stop. It’s me.”

“Let me go! I have to get to Damon.” She garbles a few incoherent words and her motions are weak, like her limbs are made from bags of sand.

Holy strike. She’s asleep. And as far as I could tell when I approached, she was alone. I didn’t sense anyone else nearby.

Did she sleepwalk all the way from the citadel in below freezing temps?

I shake her. “Whitley, open your eyes.”

“Damon,” she sobs. “I have to help him.”

“I’m right here.”

She needs to wake up. What always works in dreams? Falling.

We’re several hundred feet up. If I drop her, it just might do the trick.

“Let me go.” She punches my arms with uncoordinated fists, not giving up her struggle.

I suck in a breath. “Okay, you asked for it.”

I loosen my arms. Feeling her slip from my hold is unnatural and wrong, but I’ll catch her before she hits the ground.

For a fraction of a second, she’s silent as she drops.

Then her piercing scream cuts through the night air.

Whitley

The dragon dropped me.

No. Damon did.

After he caught me—two feet away from my face meeting a rock—he flew us back to the citadel, which wasn’t under attack after all. Through chattering teeth, I was able to tell him about the basics from my dream.

I still can’t believe none of it was real. The blaring alarm, the explosions, Damon’s haunting screams of pain.

All fake.

Now everyone’s staring at me like I’m about to shatter, and hell, maybe I am. I sleepwalked out of a heavily guarded military base. Half-naked. I got past the