arms around his middle, grabbing him and drawing him close, squeezing him tightly as I pressed my face against his shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, I smell blood.”
I blinked in surprise, releasing him, taking a step back. “I’m fine,” I reiterated, holding up my hands. Immediately I could see that I wasn’t. A trio of deep slashes ran down my left arm and the blood ran out of the wounds, forming forked, dark red rivers over my skin. It looked horrid. I stared down at Ishan’s chest; I had smeared my blood all over his body when I grabbed him.
“Libby?”
I felt lightheaded. That was Libby, my human side, not Aurora. Libby was afraid of blood. I shuddered, eyes widening slightly as the smell hit me. It was never the sight of blood that got me, it was the smell. That smell. Rich and strong, coppery, human tinged with something else. A scent I couldn’t grasp; something like freshly cut grass and pine needles and crisp, cool air.
I stumbled back, staring in bewilderment at my bloody appendage, then I felt my vision fade out around the corners, like I was going into a long, dark tunnel.
Strong arms caught me, and then I felt reality slip away.
Chapter I
Dreams and Revelations
“I thought I might find you here.”
The dream world, now familiar and comforting. As Ishan spoke I opened my eyes and drank in the bright light. I was standing on top of a verdant hill, crowned with a single tree, the beautiful cerulean sky stretching from horizon to horizon. The wind blew the grass, carrying with it tiny balls of fluff from the cottonwood trees and the sun bathed the area in a golden radiance. To my side was Ishan, laying on the verdant grass, relaxed and comfortable as though he’d been waiting for some time.
We were both naked, as we always were in this place. I smiled into his light blue eyes, the colour of the sky above.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“A few hours,” he answered, shuffling towards me.
I blinked in surprise. “That long? It seems like only moments…” It was true. My arm tingled ever so slightly; not from real pain, I knew, but from the memory. From remembering the Champawat Tiger’s claws slice into me. “I should call Katelyn. She’ll worry.”
Ishan chuckled, reaching out to touch my chin, gently rubbing it. “The girl who maced me?”
I laughed and nodded. “Yeah. She tends to be quite protective of her friends.” I reached over and touched his face. “I wish I could come here more often.”
Ishan rubbed his cheek against my hand. “I do too, but this place only exists when we’re both asleep and dreaming. We can only come here together, and while I would have loved to join you in your dream sooner, you were badly wounded. I needed to take you to somewhere where you would be safe.”
A surge of worry jolted through me, so alien in this peaceful, natural setting. The fluff of the white poplar trees floated all around me, wafting in the faint breeze, carrying with them the scent of flowers and earth. “How bad was the cut?”
“It’s a little more than just a cut,” he answered, “a normal human would require dozens of stitches—maybe even surgery.”
“And what did I require?” It seemed so strange to be talking about this change so fluidly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. As though every other day I was turning into some other species with supernatural powers.
Ishan smiled, his hand moving to my cheek, his thumb tracing across my skin. “Rest,” he answered, “and bandages to stop the bleeding. Both of which you’re getting.”
“Stop the bleeding? Was that necessary?”
He laughed. “Yes. Rakshasa are tough, but we’re not invincible. We obey the laws of physics, more or less. Our brains need blood to function, our cells need oxygen… but less of all of the above, and we can do without for longer. We heal faster. In practically all ways we’re simply a lot stronger, faster, resilient than
“No, you’re not, I smell blood.”
I blinked in surprise, releasing him, taking a step back. “I’m fine,” I reiterated, holding up my hands. Immediately I could see that I wasn’t. A trio of deep slashes ran down my left arm and the blood ran out of the wounds, forming forked, dark red rivers over my skin. It looked horrid. I stared down at Ishan’s chest; I had smeared my blood all over his body when I grabbed him.
“Libby?”
I felt lightheaded. That was Libby, my human side, not Aurora. Libby was afraid of blood. I shuddered, eyes widening slightly as the smell hit me. It was never the sight of blood that got me, it was the smell. That smell. Rich and strong, coppery, human tinged with something else. A scent I couldn’t grasp; something like freshly cut grass and pine needles and crisp, cool air.
I stumbled back, staring in bewilderment at my bloody appendage, then I felt my vision fade out around the corners, like I was going into a long, dark tunnel.
Strong arms caught me, and then I felt reality slip away.
Chapter I
Dreams and Revelations
“I thought I might find you here.”
The dream world, now familiar and comforting. As Ishan spoke I opened my eyes and drank in the bright light. I was standing on top of a verdant hill, crowned with a single tree, the beautiful cerulean sky stretching from horizon to horizon. The wind blew the grass, carrying with it tiny balls of fluff from the cottonwood trees and the sun bathed the area in a golden radiance. To my side was Ishan, laying on the verdant grass, relaxed and comfortable as though he’d been waiting for some time.
We were both naked, as we always were in this place. I smiled into his light blue eyes, the colour of the sky above.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“A few hours,” he answered, shuffling towards me.
I blinked in surprise. “That long? It seems like only moments…” It was true. My arm tingled ever so slightly; not from real pain, I knew, but from the memory. From remembering the Champawat Tiger’s claws slice into me. “I should call Katelyn. She’ll worry.”
Ishan chuckled, reaching out to touch my chin, gently rubbing it. “The girl who maced me?”
I laughed and nodded. “Yeah. She tends to be quite protective of her friends.” I reached over and touched his face. “I wish I could come here more often.”
Ishan rubbed his cheek against my hand. “I do too, but this place only exists when we’re both asleep and dreaming. We can only come here together, and while I would have loved to join you in your dream sooner, you were badly wounded. I needed to take you to somewhere where you would be safe.”
A surge of worry jolted through me, so alien in this peaceful, natural setting. The fluff of the white poplar trees floated all around me, wafting in the faint breeze, carrying with them the scent of flowers and earth. “How bad was the cut?”
“It’s a little more than just a cut,” he answered, “a normal human would require dozens of stitches—maybe even surgery.”
“And what did I require?” It seemed so strange to be talking about this change so fluidly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. As though every other day I was turning into some other species with supernatural powers.
Ishan smiled, his hand moving to my cheek, his thumb tracing across my skin. “Rest,” he answered, “and bandages to stop the bleeding. Both of which you’re getting.”
“Stop the bleeding? Was that necessary?”
He laughed. “Yes. Rakshasa are tough, but we’re not invincible. We obey the laws of physics, more or less. Our brains need blood to function, our cells need oxygen… but less of all of the above, and we can do without for longer. We heal faster. In practically all ways we’re simply a lot stronger, faster, resilient than
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