She breathed in deeply and spread her wings, feeling the air buffet her body. After a moment, she dove toward the sand, bringing herself up at the last moment. If she could laugh in her bird form, she would. Instead, she dove and twisted through the air. The feeling of freedom was almost overwhelming.

After a few minutes, she soared upward until she hovered thirty feet above the white sand. Brilliant light spread across the dreamscape like a radiant summer day. The light sparkled off the deep blue-green sea. She closed her eyes and listened to the gentle rocking of the waves.

A prickle of doubt entered her mind. Was this right? Was it right to enter Damien’s dreams for her own selfish reasons?

Selene fluttered toward the dunes, pondering her latest thought. She didn’t know. As she came near the ground, she spotted something. Her heart sped up again, and she flew toward the light that lay north of where she was.

As she drew closer, the feeling of joy and longing encompassed her being. Down between two dunes of white sand lay an orb of twisting flames of white light.

Damien’s soul.

Selene landed and changed into her human form. As she watched the tendrils of his life-force dance like a thousand tiny flames, the hunger inside of her leapt forward, drawing her closer.

She held back, watching the pulse of light. Moments later, she lowered her body toward the sand and lay down.

She curled on her side, one arm beneath her head, and watched the orb. It reminded her of those moments when the sun would enter her room just so and leave a pool of light on her bed, inviting her to curl up in the sunbeam and fall asleep.

Yes. She closed her eyes. It felt just like that. Warm and peaceful. Her body relaxed. She felt like she could stay forever. Right here, next to Damien’s soul.

Damien slowly opened his eyes. The pale light of morning shone through the crack between the shutters at the end of the room. He blinked and looked again. Selene lay a foot away, on the very edge of her bed, one arm tucked beneath her head, the other hanging off the side. If she moved any closer, she would topple off the mattress.

He lay still and watched her. She breathed in and out gently, her lips slightly open, her eyes shut, but not tightly. There was a faint color to her cheeks, and her hair hung across her shoulders and body in silky strands.

She was dressed in a simple, faded beige tunic much too big for her. Probably one of Mildred’s. It softened her, made her appear like a young woman and not the cold lady he was used to. He lifted himself up onto his elbow. If Selene were a flower, she would be a rose. Beautiful, but unattainable, surrounded by thorns.

How could he draw this woman out? How could he speak to her? How could he get past her icy shroud?