If Lady Amara had been here for him, was it possible that Lady Ragna was here for Selene? “Do we know where Lady Selene is?”

“No. She never came back. But Karl is with her.”

Damien gripped the knife in his hand. If he had any idea where to go, he would rush out now and find his wife.

“My lord, I need to inform the palace. And I do not want to leave you here alone.”

Damien glanced back at Lady Amara and swallowed. He didn’t want Selene to return to this. “Then we go quickly and come back.”

“I agree.”

The two men had left the bedchamber and entered the common room when the outside door burst open and Karl rushed in, Selene behind him.

Damien stopped and stared at Selene.

At the same time, Selene spotted him. “Damien.”

He still didn’t know why she had been gone so long or where she went, but at the moment he didn’t care. He moved across the room and pulled her into a tight embrace. “You’re here,” he whispered as he buried his face in her hair, which smelled of dirt and roses.

Her arms went around his waist, squeezing him as though her life depended on it. “I almost lost you. Amara was there . . . and the Dark Lady . . .” She hid her face in the crook of his neck.

Tears filled his eyes as he held Selene close, his face within her hair.

“I’ll leave Karl here to stand guard,” Damien heard Taegis say. He nodded his head, but never brought it up. Somewhere in his mind he heard the door shut, but it was only peripheral. Right now his only thought was that Selene was here, alive, in his arms.

She never made a sound, but he felt the dampness of her tears spread across his shoulder. After a while, he finally lifted his head. “Selene,” he said softly, his stomach hardening at what he had to say next. But she needed to know—the sooner, the better. “I need to tell you something.”

She looked at him, tears clinging to her lashes.

He swallowed. “I had a visitor tonight.”

Her head dipped down. “I know.”

“You know?”

“It was my sister.”

He blinked. “How . . . ?”

“She came for you. I entered your dreamscape and stopped her.”

“You entered . . . my dreamscape?” But she hadn’t even been in the room. First she pulled him into her own dreams, and now she was entering his dreams without even touching him. . . .

“Yes. And now Amara’s dead.” Her fingers clutched his tunic and a moment later, she began to sob.

Damien ran his hand up and down her back, his own throat tight, dashing away his thoughts from earlier. Time enough to think about that later. There was so much to her words, so much feeling. What had she seen? What had she experienced? And yet, he felt strength within her even as she cried.