“He’s hurt,” I said, fear squeezing my words. “God. Is he okay?”

“He’s okay. Stephanie—”

“How did he—?”

“None of that’s important!” Gripping my arms in return, Lucas shook me once. The action won my silence, but only long enough for a soft flutter to catch and steal my attention.

“Shh!” I commanded him, turning my head sharply. “Did you hear that?”

The noise had been like the flap of a bird’s wing. Or the hem of a heavy cloak . . .

“Whatever it was, it’s not real,” Lucas said, attempting to turn me back to him. “Nothing here is but me and you. This is a dre—Stephanie, where are you going?”

Though Lucas tugged my arm, I managed to pull away. I drifted out from behind our tree, my steps returning me to the clearing near my mother’s grave. Again, I scanned our surroundings, searching for the source of the noise.

Then a horrible sensation, like the ground and all of reality had dropped out from under me, caused my stomach to plummet.

The plinth that had previously supported the solemn and hooded stone figure now stood empty, vacated by its guard.

“Lucas,” I said, my breath leaving me in the form of a small white ghost. “Lucas, you have to go.”

“I can’t go! Not without—” His steps crunched in the snow, growing nearer until, along with his words, they halted abruptly.

Dread overwhelmed me while my mind painted pictures of what I would find when I turned. I spun anyway, my heart stalling at the sight of the black-hooded form brought to life. He loomed behind Lucas, one gloved and ring-lined hand clasping the hilt of a dagger, the wavy blade of which he held to Lucas’s throat.

“She has instructed you to depart, sir,” came that distorted voice from within the hood. “You may take your leave or, if you prefer, I will see you out.”

Lucas’s bright blue gaze dulled with hate. He remained frozen, though, seeming to understand completely just how real all parts of this dream were—how real the consequences were about to become if he didn’t do as I’d told him.

More seconds elapsed, however, and Lucas remained in place.

“You can kill me,” said Lucas at last, his words shocking me almost as much as Erik’s sudden appearance. “You can kill anyone who comes near her. You must think I’m still here because I don’t understand that, but I do.”

“Lucas, don’t,” I warned, able to sense where he would go next and knowing there would be no coming back from it.

“You can keep her forever and never let her go,” Lucas continued, ignoring me. “But what you don’t seem to understand is that none of that is ever going to make her love you.”

The hand clenching the knife tightened, prepared to strike. But in that same instant, Lucas moved, uncoiling himself from the arm that, when it should have killed him, simply . . . let him go.