Lilian’s POV
The dream was heavy, warm, and smelled like cedarwood.
I didn’t want to leave it.
Usually, my dreams were frantic things—running for a bus I missed, taking an exam for a class I never attended, or lately, gray skies and the smell of sulfur. But this was different. This was a deep, velvety darkness that felt like floating in a heated pool.
There was a weight on me, but it wasn’t crushing. It was grounding. A heavy arm draped over my waist. A solid wall of heat pressed against my back.
I shifted, nuzzling my face into the pillow that was firm and smelled of rain.
Wait. Rain?
My pillows smelled like lavender detergent.
I frowned in my sleep, the edges of consciousness beginning to fray the comfortable darkness. I tried to stretch, but my limbs felt like they were made of
