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numb.

“What’s happening?” I slurred out, slumping heavily against the chair I no longer felt

beneath me.

“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Mom whispered from somewhere. I didn’t have

a clear idea where she was anymore. Hell, I didn’t have a clear idea of anything anymore. No

matter how hard I tried to concentrate, my thoughts shattered.

With every breath I took, my muscles grew heavier. First, on my neck then on my

shoulders down to my arms and abdomen then lastly my legs until they stretched out.

“Mom?”

“Shhh. Shhh. Let it work.” Her warm hand touched my cheek. I should be panicking.

Should be fighting whatever it was that came over me. I knew this yet I stayed seated, feeling like melting ice cream on a cone.

My vision tunneled. I struggled to stay awake, but something pulled me down. In the

distance I heard my mother speak. Only she wasn’t really speaking. It sounded more like

singing…or chanting. I couldn’t trust my ears anymore.

Crystal clear, crystal clear

Clear the vessel’s mind of my fear

Wipe her mind

Clean her thoughts

Cleanse her dreams

This is my will so mote it be…

No longer able to keep it open, I let my eyelid blanket me in darkness. My heart sputtered.

Once. Twice. A third time. Then nothing.

Epilogue

An hour before dawn, New Year’s Day.

Luka rolled onto his back and groaned. The inside of his mouth felt like a desert that

something crawled into and died. Moving his tongue around, he gathered as much saliva as

he could and swallowed. Big mistake since the action jarred the marching band playing inside

his head. He reached up and rubbed away the sleep and exhaustion clinging to his face. He

couldn’t remember how many bottles of gin he’d downed.

“Shit!” He sat up then groaned again, cradling his pounding head in his hands. Luka had

drunk himself into oblivion once before…days after the Traditionalists staged a coup against

his father. He remembered every stupid thing he’d said and done then the same way he

remembered tonight. He’d messed up. Royally messed up.

The door to his room blew open with so much force he thought the wood would splinter

into a thousand pieces. A seed of hope grew in his chest anyway, thinking the commotion

came from the woman he’d hurt because of his drunken ramblings. He was prepared to

apologize profusely to her.

Unfortunately for him, his sister stomped to where he sat. She still wore that ridiculous

carnevale costume she’d chosen for the party. The pucker between her eyebrows and the heat

in her eyes dotted cold sweat across Luka’s forehead. He could feel the blood draining from

his face with each step she took toward him.

The slap came fast and furious. The impact reverberated inside the silence. Luka’s already

hung over head whipped to the side. He grunted at the new pain mixing with the old. He

reached up and covered the hand print already rising on his cheek.

“I deserved that,” he mumbled, facing a quietly stewing Yana.

His sister bared her teeth at him when she said, “She left! What the hell did you say that

made her leave? I thought you had this taken cared off? I thought she was supposed to take

the contract extension.”

“She left?”

“As if you already didn’t know?”

At the risk of angering Yana further, Luka shook his head. “I’ve been here the whole time,

sleeping off the alcohol.”

She paced at the foot of his bed. “What made you get drunk anyway?”

Guilt more than nausea twisted inside Luka’s gut. “I messed up.”

“You think?” she shrieked, her eyes shooting hot pokers of accusation at him without

slowing her pacing. “What the hell did you do?”

Luka dropped his hand from his cheek along with his gaze. Having his sister lecture him

must be the most emasculating thing he’d ever been through. But he sucked it up. She

needed to know if they were to fix this.

“I might have told her about Phoenix,” he forced himself to say.

The answering shriek made Luka wish he hadn’t woken up until most of the alcohol had

left his system. He winced, kneading the pounding in his left eye. Being half drunk didn’t help his case at all. It fuzzed up his brain enough to prevent him from focusing on more than one

thing. Right now all he could think about was this moment with his sister or his head might

explode.

Yana stopped her pacing and slapped her thighs. “Of all the stupid, idiotic things…” She

took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. “Luka, you’re better than this! Phoenix is

now with Demitri. Deal with it!”

“But—”

“No! No buts.” She wagged a finger at him. “I let you postpone the tour because we could

all use a break from the drama. Little did I know that the postponement would lead us to

something big, assuming I’m right about her. Everything should have been smooth sailing yet

you let your childishness get in the way. Well, not anymore. I’ll think of a way to get her back, but you need to get your shit together for this to work.” Yana’s anger melted away with the

drooping of her shoulders. Sadness weighed down the corners of her lips. “This is not the

Luka I know. Put yourself back together, brother. We need you. Now, get out of that bed. The

rebirth ceremony is about to start.”

Luka fell back into bed only to stare at the ceiling when Yana left. Yes, he hadn’t been

himself and he let his toxic feelings get in the way. He’d acted in a way unbecoming of his

stature. His father would be so proud to be proven right about him.

“Dakota,” he whispered her name as if the power in the word would bring her back. He

knew better than that.

He didn’t care about who Yana thought Dakota was. To Luka, she was something much

more. He just didn’t realize it until he’d hurt her, and now he might have lost her forever.

Sitting up, Luka pushed off the bed. He wouldn’t accept defeat. She might be hurting right

now, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t make this right. He had to try. He had to bring her back.

The car ride to Lunar Manor raised his suspicions about her. When she slept on his

shoulder and began to dream he attempted to see what she was seeing. When something

blocked his attempts to walk into her dream, he told Yana about it and they’d been keeping an

eye on Dakota ever since, but nothing really happened. Only that Luka couldn’t enter her

dreams. It frustrated him to no end. For many nights, Yana and Luka theorized about her, not

really finding an answer until Luka accidentally mentioned Dakota’s scars. Yana became

convinced, to the point of obsession, about Dakota’s true identity then.

Luka needed more proof if he was to believe Yana. He hurried to an armoire and collected

a bronze bowl. Entering the living room of his quarters, he placed the bowl on the coffee table and sat on the couch. He needed to hurry if he wanted to get this right and not be late for the ceremony. He didn’t need another reason for Yana to be even more pissed at him.

With a wave of his hand, the bowl filled a quarter of the way with water. A snap of his

fingers later, flames danced on the water’s surface. Staring into the orange tongues, he

reached inside his pocket and produced a picture of Dakota he’d taken without her knowing.

He stared at her face. It was caught on a smile, the corner of her eye crinkling. Running out of time, Luka placed the photo into the flames. As its edges blackened and the image curled into

itself, he recited three times:

Ancient power within me,

I call upon thee.

Hear my plea.

I push my limit to cross over consciousness

into these unknown realms to me and myself.

Only I shall discover the way to unlock her dreams.

So mote it be.

So mote it be.

So mote it be.

A gust of wind from the open terrace doors snuffed out the flames. The water drained,

leaving the ashes the photo of Dakota had become. The gray flecks spiraled out of the bowl to

dance in front of Luka before leaving through the terrace into the darkest part of the night. A small grin spread across his face as he pushed up from the couch and sauntered out of his

room to meet the rest of the band at the lake.

~See you in Book 2~

Relish Sneak Peek

Luka Visraya—the handsome rock god that I carelessly let into my heart. I deserved the

pulsing pain in my chest. I knew better and yet I didn’t listen to my gut. I ignored all the red flags. Of course he was in love with someone else. Of course!

I let a tear fall when the scene of Luka singing to me while I lay “asleep” on a concrete slab came on. I should have known the whole song was a metaphor for his love for Phoenix. How

she’d become poison in his veins after she left him for Demitri. The dress with the feathers

should have tipped me off too. Phoenix equaled bird that flew from the ashes, the very tattoo

Luka had inked all over his back. Ugh! I hated myself.

“I’m beginning to think you can’t start your day without watching that stupid video.”

Exhaling a shuddering breath, I closed my eye just as Luka leaned in to kiss me and wiped

away my tears. I sniffed and straightened my shoulders.

“It’s not a stupid video,” I said, looking up at the classically handsome guy with bed head

grinning down at me.

“Just because you’re in it.” He bent and claimed my lips. I tasted the coffee with its cream

and sugar on his tongue. I grimaced and pushed him away playfully.

“You put way too much sugar in your coffee, Larry.”

Yes. I rebounded on Laurel Hardy, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Gossip, our ironically

named college paper. I insisted on no strings attached and he agreed. Now he spent most

nights at my apartment, and I let him because I couldn’t stand sleeping alone. The dreams…I

shook my head. I needed someone to be there when I woke up. I needed the warmth of

another body beside me, the feel of hands on my body, the oblivion an orgasm brought. I got

all of that from Larry for the low, low price of $9.99.

Another thing to hate Luka for. In thirty days he’d made me codependent. The guilt of

using Larry for my comfort twisted in my gut. Larry knew this. I’d made it clear from the

start. Still he stayed. I got the feeling he suspected my recklessness with his feelings came

from my stay with Vicious. He’d been the one to help me with the NDA, so when I got back

broken he must have put the two together.

Larry snorted at my criticism of his taste in morning pick-me-ups. “Miss Sweet Tooth? I

don’t get why you’re drinking your coffee straight up these days. You used to put at least

three packets of the white stuff in your mug.”

“Don’t make me sound like a sugar addict.” I stared into the dregs of my cup. In the

background, the video had ended, displaying smaller screens featuring other Vicious music

videos. I curled my fingers to suppress the need to click Replay.

“Alright,” he sighed out, smoothing down my hair in a sweet caress. “I get it. I won’t push.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, not really feeling the gratitude today. That fucking dream, man, it

messed something up in me.

“Want another cup?”

I offered him my mug, doing my best Oliver Twist impression. He chuckled and sauntered

to my kitchen in just his boxers. I took a second to admire his ass before minimizing the

YouTube browser. I cued up my photo manipulation software, ready for another long day.

“Why are you up so early anyway? It’s not even six.” I asked as I pulled up one of Dray’s

splatter drumming photos. I’d been tweaking the tinting for the past two days. I needed to get it right soon or I wouldn’t have time for the rest of the photos before I brought them to

Eddy’s for framing.

“I have to head to the library before my first class and check out a couple of law books for

my debate this week,” Larry replied over his shoulder. He puttered about in the kitchen and

soon the sizzle of eggs and the scent of cooking bacon reached me. “How’s the project going?”

“Slow.” I grumbled curses under my breath.

The Spring Showcase opened the first of March and ran a week. Then I would have to

defend my introspective to a panel consisting of the dean and several photography

luminaries. My heartbeat sped up from zero to sixty at the thought. I had a week to finish

everything. Framing took another week, and that was cutting it close because Eddy loved me.

He wouldn’t do anyone else that kind of favor. I’d frame the pictures myself if I didn’t have to write the paper that actually went with the pictures. In ten pages I needed to explain the

theme behind the introspective and my driving force for the images. I could actually feel time slipping away between my fingers. I had so much to do.

“I get that you want the pictures to turn out perfect, but at some point you need to let go

and let your talent speak for itself.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

“I heard that.”

I didn’t flinch at the admonition in Larry’s tone. He’d already been accepted to several of

the top law schools in the country. He had his pick, so I found it hypocritical of him to tell me to let go when he poured over countless pro and con lists every night. I kept telling him to

pick one already. Did he listen to me? About as much as I listened to him.

“Come on.” He waved me over to the table he’d set. “You get cranky and attack my lists