chapter 21

I jerk up in bed, shock flooding me and turning my skin to ice.

The man and I stare at one another in silence for several heartbeats, neither of us moving. He’s unblinking, a ghostly, beautiful statue in the sliver of light falling through the crack in the curtains. Half his face is forged from the shadows in the corner, and the other is damn near alight from the streetlamp outside.

For a moment, I sit frozen, my hands clawed into the blankets against my chest. On the heels of my dream, I’m not entirely certain he’s real. Maybe he’s just a vision—a night terror, a holdover from the dream, the way old photograph negatives could overlap in the developing process.

My head feels foggy enough to lend truth to the idea. Despite my jolt of terror, maybe I just haven’t fully awakened. There’s no way someone could have gotten into my room without me knowing it.

But… the ache in my head from the fight with Kian is more pronounced now. The ibuprofen I took earlier has worn off, so the throbbing