“What . . . what are you?” Nora gasped, fear tightening her belly.
Kosmaras seemed even larger now that she was staring at him from her bottom in the sands. His wings spread behind him in a show of dominance as black, smoking tendrils curled out around his feet—wisps of magic, or evil.
“I am as I said, Kosmaras. I am the terror that lurks in the night, creeping into the corners of your mind. This is Duhsvapna, and you will receive me here. Beg for me here.”
Feeling an inexplicable scream welling up inside of her throat, Nora scrambled to her feet, hearing the sound of tearing fabric as she tripped on the sheer dress covering her.
Without another word, she turned and fled. She didn’t know where she was going or where she could run, she only knew she had to get as far away from Kosmaras as she could.
“Logan!” She cried out for him, hoping that wherever she was, she was still in a place where Logan could somehow hear her.
“The human will not be able to aid you here.” His smooth, accented baritone was all around her. In the sky, at her feet, pounding along with every terror-filled beat of her heart.
“Nora.” It was faint at first, but the sound of Logan’s voice drifted over one of the ashen dunes.
“Logan?!” Frantically searching the dark landscape, Nora bolted for the dune she thought she’d heard his voice coming from, only to halt as her name floated in off the wind from behind her. “Stop playing with me!” she screamed at Kosmaras. The creature smirked in amusement at her.
“Nora!”
Two arms were suddenly wrapping around her form, effectively trapping her and lifting her up off her feet. Screaming and writhing in fear, Nora fought against her attacker, attempting to escape.
“Nora, wake up!”
Gasping for breath, Nora blinked awake, finding that she was outside on the balcony, Logan’s strong arms around her and in the process of pulling her off of the railing she’d been attempting to climb.
Sagging against him, Nora let out a shuddering breath.
“Are you okay?” Logan whispered, still holding her close.
Letting her feet fall back down to the floor, Nora turned to bury her face in his chest. His hand was at her hair, stroking down over it in a comforting manner.
“What just happened?” Her words came out muffled in his chest.
“You were wandering around the apartment sleepwalking. I left you alone at first, but then you started running like you were afraid of something.”
Nora shuddered, remembering the black eyes peering back into her soul with angry, seductive intent.
“I know they say you’re not supposed to wake up someone who’s sleepwalking because it can cause disorientation and trauma . . . but I didn’t have much of a choice when you started climbing the railing.”
“No,” Nora rasped. “It’s good you woke me. I was having a horrible dream.” She let out a grateful sigh. “I don’t think that’s a real thing anyway.”
Once again, a shiver coursed through Nora’s body. When had sleepwalking become her thing? And why couldn’t she get those black eyes out of her head, or the feel of his hands on her body?
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a dark baritone laughed.