“Yes.” Her eyes turned downward. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

He didn’t understand what being a dreamer meant or how her gift worked, but however she did it, she just admitted she had been doing it to him. He tried to recall the last few nights. Could he see her inside his mind? Was that how it worked? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember any of his dreams since leaving Rook Castle.

He ran a hand across his face. He wasn’t sure what to do. She had entered his dreams without his consent. Part of him felt betrayed. How could she use her gift on him? He would never do that to someone else. The very thought made his pulse beat faster. An overwhelming desire to turn around and lie down with his back to her surged inside of him.

But another part of him felt for her as he gazed at her shadowed face, full of fear and vulnerability. He had seen how exhausted she was. And she’d been honest about what she had been doing the last few nights even though she could have kept it a secret. Was it really that bad that somehow, someway she had found it possible to find rest through him?

If only he knew more about what she could do . . .

Selene withdrew her hand. “I understand,” she said quietly. Then she rolled over onto her side, her back to him, and pulled her cloak up around her neck.

Damien lay back slowly. No, this was not the kind of man he wanted to be. If it helped Selene—if it helped his wife—to hold his hand in order to sleep, then he would do it, even if he didn’t yet understand how or why.

Damien reached out and ran his fingers over her shoulder. “Selene.”

She tensed at his touch. A moment later, she twisted her head around. “Yes?”

“You can hold my hand,” he whispered.

She froze. He could almost see the battle inside of her, the same one he had experienced moments ago: to turn around or to turn back. Just when he was sure she was going to keep her back to him, she turned to face him instead.

“Are you sure?” she whispered back.

“Yes,” he said, drowning out his own concerns and focusing on her needs instead.

She hesitated again, then pulled out her hand. Their fingers meshed, his warm ones between her cooler ones. He laid their hands on the edge of her blanket, right between them.

He let out a long breath and relaxed. This felt right. “Good night, Selene.”

He swore he heard a strangled sob from her. “Thank you,” she said, almost inaudibly.

Damien rolled onto his back, keeping his hand in hers. Her fingers were so small compared to his, but they fit perfectly in his hand.

He stared up at the canopy of darkness, then closed his eyes. He had no idea what the future held for them. And he still hardly knew the woman whose fingers were intertwined with his.