“Your father means well, but let’s take this one day at a time. No more panicking. And, at the very least, you need to build up your strength before you try to run away again. Also, shoes.”

I laughed. “Is running away a possibility?” Because that seemed doable and appealing.

“It is. Where are we running to?”

Oh man. I hung my head. “What do you want from me?” I’d learned the hard way that nothing came without a cost.

Lorne squeezed my hand again and I looked up at him, nearly getting lost in his gaze. “Everything.”

I hissed out a breath and tried to pull away. Lorne wanted my freedom just as much as my father did.

“I’ll back off—for now—because you need a friend more. I’ve been waiting this long. I think I can manage a little while longer. Especially now that I know you’re safe.”

“Thanks so much,” I said, my tone dripping in sarcasm.

Declan came down the path and stopped walking as he saw us sitting together. He didn’t have the calm mask that Lorne did. We were easily thirty meters away and I could still clearly see the hurt on his face.

Declan had to know I was betrothed, yet…

Maybe I’d misread things. For a second on Earth, I’d thought that there was something between Declan and me. Even with Declan’s evil family, being with him would be easier than being with Lorne.

Lorne squeezed my hand one last time before letting go, and I turned back to him.

“If you change your mind about running away with me, let me know. The Rayshani beaches were always your favorite.” He started to stand, but I stopped him, grabbing his wrist.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as he sat down again.

He sounded worried, but I just needed a second. Something he said…

Beaches?

Something about that was familiar.

I tilted my head as I remembered something. I’d dreamt of him. I’d dreamt of the beach and of him and a sandcastle.

“I…I…” I looked away from him as I tried to remember. “I had a dream about the beach. I think you were there. And I think I made a sandcastle, but it didn’t look much like a castle…”

And I’d seen him—a foggy, blurry version of him—while I was running on the treadmill on Abaddon, too. It was a fragment at best. More like an impression. I couldn’t describe anything about it, only the feeling of being happy.

I looked back at him. “What does it mean?”

He grinned, and his eyes grew glassy. “It wasn’t a dream.”

He was wrong. “No. I swear I had this dream and—”