Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms #2)(15)

She’d never realized her imagination was this incredible.

Alexius crossed his arms, studying her with both interest and an edge of frustration, but didn’t attempt to get any closer. He looked again at her clenched fist, which continued to burn like a torch. It caused her no discomfort, only a slight warm sensation. “I thought this would be easier.”

She laughed at that, the sound raw in her throat. “There’s nothing easy about this, Alexius. I want to wake up. I want out of this dream.”

But how could it be a dream when it felt so real? She could smell the flowers, she felt the ground beneath beneath her bare feet, the damp sponginess of the moss, the ticklish spears of grass. No dream had ever been this vivid. And what was that crystal city just over the hill? There was nothing like it in the mortal world—or like this strange and magical meadow. She would have heard of something so astonishing. Even in the books describing the legends about Watchers, she’d never seen an illustration or description of such a city.

He followed her line of sight. “That is where we live.”

Lucia’s gaze snapped back to his and her breath caught. “Then why aren’t I there? Why am I here in this meadow?”

Alexius briefly scanned the area. “This is where I fell asleep so I could find you in my dreams. It’s private here and quiet. Very few know I like to come here.”

She began to pace in short, quick lines, her white skirts swishing, so long that they nearly tripped her up. She focused all her attention on Alexius, half expecting him to lunge forward and attack her at any moment. For him to peel back his handsome face and reveal something horrific and ugly beneath. Perhaps he was a demon keeping her asleep and trapped in nightmares—she’d once read of such a thing, although, again, it was in a child’s book of stories she’d read quickly before tucking it away beneath her bed so no one would see it.

Fine. If she was stuck here, she needed to talk. She needed answers to questions that bubbled up in her throat—about the strange and alluring Alexius, about everything.

“How old are you?”

His brows rose, as if he hadn’t expected this question. “Old.”

“You don’t look old.”

“None of us do.” His amused expression had begun to enrage her. There was nothing amusing about this. “You can put out the fire, princess. I mean you no harm today, I assure you.”

Her hand continued to burn. With a focused thought, she made the flames higher and brighter. She would take orders from no one, especially not some imaginary boy from her dreams.

It only made Alexius’s smile grow. “Very well, have it your way. Perhaps if you see for yourself—even in the confines of this dream—what I am, you might begin to believe it. This is only our first meeting. There will be others.”

An unbidden shiver of anticipation slid up her spine. “Not if I have anything to say about it. I will wake soon and you’ll be gone.”

“Perhaps. But mortals need to sleep every day, don’t they? You won’t be able to escape me quite that easily, princess.”

Lucia glared at him but had to admit it was a point well made.

“Watch me.” He stepped backward and raised his hands to his sides. There was a swirling around him, blurring his image for a moment, the air shifting, shimmering, turning.

The next moment, his arms were wings, his skin sporting golden feathers that shone beneath the sunlight. With a flap of these wings, he took flight.

He was a hawk, one who soared high into the clear blue sky. Amazed, Lucia shielded her eyes from the bright light, unable to look away—and noticed her fire had extinguished without her even realizing it.

Finally, he came to perch in a nearby tree, laden with golden apples. Both hesitant and fascinated, she drew closer and studied him, surprised that his eyes had remained the exact same shade of dark silver.

“This proves nothing,” she told the hawk, but her heart pounded hard and fast. “Anything can happen in a dream. It doesn’t make it real.”

He let go of the branch with his sharp talons, but before he touched the ground he had shifted back into the form of a young man. He looked down at himself.

“Usually when we shift form, we don’t retain our clothing—feathers become flesh, flesh becomes feathers. It’s the only difference you would note in the waking world.”

Heat touched her cheeks at the suggestion that he would currently be completely nude if she was awake. “Then I suppose I should be thankful this is only a dream.”

“You know this is real because you know who you are, what you are. Your destiny is tied to the Sanctuary, princess. It’s tied to the Watchers, to the Kindred.” He boldly drew closer, his gaze intensifying. “Your destiny is tied to me, and it always has been.”

His nearness disturbed her and, for a moment, made it impossible to concentrate or speak.

She realized there was substance and truth to what he said. Her body might be lying unconscious in a bed, but her mind, her spirit . . . they were here.

“You’ve watched me because of the prophecy,” she said.

A frown creased his brow as he studied her, as if memorizing her features. “Yes. You are the sorceress I’ve been waiting a millennium for.”

“That you’ve been waiting for?”

Alexius nodded. “Many didn’t believe, but I did. And I waited until you came into your magic before I could talk to you. To guide you. To help you.” He was silent until she, again, looked up to meet his silver eyes directly. “Your magic is far too powerful for you right now and it’s only growing stronger by the day. You don’t even realize it yet.”