“I’m sorry, Clem,” he murmured, and he did sound contrite, as if he could control what his mind created in sleep.

I almost laughed. “We have never dreamt, you and me. All our lives, we have been void of dreams until now. And at last, we dream, and your first is tainted by a treacherous girl who you must despise.”

“I would not trade such a dream,” he was swift to say. “Not for me, not for the world. Not even to break this curse. But for your sake in this strange game we find ourselves trapped within . . . I would.”

“Well,” I said, glancing out the window. “Thank you for the warning. Although perhaps you’ll dream of something else this afternoon.”

“Perhaps.” But he didn’t sound confident. And I was swiftly learning that our dreams were intent on unmasking us and our plans. Our secrets, our past. What we hoped for.

What we desired.

An awkward lull beat between us. My face felt hot when I pressed my hands to my cheeks, and I wondered if I was getting ill.

“I should go,” Phelan said. “Let you get some rest.”

I turned and watched him leave, the door latching quietly behind him. I was still staring at it two breaths later when the door unexpectedly swung open again, Phelan’s gaze finding me instantly.

“I wanted it to be you,” he said, his voice deep, rough-hewn. “When I returned to the museum for that final interview . . . gods, how I wanted it to be you.”

And he had gotten his desire, only not how he had envisioned it.

I took the first step to him, and it broke the storm that had been building between us. He met me in the center of the room, and I had enough sense to flick my fingers and charm the door shut before we collided.

His hands grasped my waist, drawing me to him. I took hold of his collar, my mouth hungry to taste his. Our lips met, cautiously at first as we explored each other. My fingers drifted into his hair as I drank his sighs, his breaths. His hands moved to the curve of my neck; his fingertips traced the dip of my collarbones. I arched into him as he pressed me against the wall.

Vaguely, I heard an inner voice remind me that I was held together by stone and ice. Vaguely, I remembered my disguise, and I told myself that I had not come all this way as Anna only to break now into Clem.

My heart sang a vibrant ache; the pain branched through me, a sharp warning that stole my breath.

“Phelan,” I gasped, my fingers tightening in his hair.

He drew away. Cold air washed over me.