I strip off my clothes. The garden doors are wide open, as I ordered, and I’m glad to feel the fresh air on my skin. As I slip into the bed, Michael stirs, moaning and tossing his head. “No,” he mumbles. “It’s too dark. Let me out!” Tossing becomes flailing, and he’s soon fighting the air.

Shaking his shoulder, I speak close to his ear. “Michael. Wake up. It’s a dream.”

He punches my chest, kicking me and the covers wrapping his legs. “Let me out! I need to get out!”

I straddle him to fasten his arms to the bed, pinning his legs with my shins. The constraint may make things worse, but at least he won’t hurt himself.

His head thrashes, his new strength battling to free himself from my grasp. “No, no. I can’t get out. I can’t get out!” And then the Anlu’kyr wail leaves his throat. A high-pitched shriek that echoes into the garden and nearly pierces my eardrums.

I clasp my palm over his mouth. “Michael! Wake up!”

His eyes fly open, the fierce gaze fixing on my face, followed by the requisite scowl. I remove my hand and return it to his wrist.

“Flanagan. What the fuck?” His attention bounces to the garden doors before returning. Always checking his way out, looking for the open window, the nearest escape.

“You were dreaming.”

“Is that why you’ve got me fastened to the bloody bed?” His gaze flickers down my body, eyeing my erection before returning to study my lips.

I can’t help a smirk. He fought his attraction to me, but the instant magnetism between us blossomed from the first look. He undressed me with his eyes, then told me he wasn’t into men. We’re compatible Channelers, opposites of equal strength. Attraction was inevitable.

“What were you dreaming?” I ask, keeping my voice steady, shoving away the beast’s urge to chain the boy down so I know he’s safe.

He checks the open door again. “Nothing. It was—nothing.”

I lower my body over his, aligning myself, letting his wrists go to lean on my elbows and cup his head. He’s fully hard now and hisses as our shafts meet, hips thrusting for friction. The reaction I want.

“Fuck, Flanagan.” He grips my waist, fingers digging into skin.

I stroke his temples with my thumbs and undulate to give idle stimulation. A sigh leaves his lips and mine. My body draws a gentle tingle of Flame from his. The day’s tension falls from weary muscles. Finally, I’m skin to skin with the man who’s plagued my thoughts all day.

“It’s important,” I whisper. “I need to know.”

He avoids my eyes. “It was just a dream.”

“It was a nightmare.”