Kade held her close, his body curved around hers in the stillness, and even in her unconscious state, he tracked every detail—the steady beat of her heart against his chest, the warmth of her skin where it pressed against him, the smallest shift in her breath that spoke of dreams still at peace.
Around two in the morning, the bond jolted hard, a sharp, electric strike that tore through the quiet.
Kade's eyes opened at once, every sense instantly alert.
Beside him, Dakota's breathing fractured, her brows drawing tight in the dim light, fingers twisting into the sheets as if she were fighting something she could not see.
This was not a simple dream.
The bond vibrated again, sharp and urgent, carrying the echo of whatever had seized her.
She gasped softly, the sound small and distressed in the dark.
Kade sat up, the motion swift and controlled. "Dakota."
She didn't wake up.
