16. Lorcan's Visit

Scarlett

It’s a nightmare. One I’ve had nearly every night for several months since I first shifted and it always ends the same way. With death. Not mine. His. I don’t mean to kill him, but somehow, every time, I end up tearing out his throat with my teeth that grow too large to contain my mouth.

And his iridescent eyes lose life, his golden hair drenched in his blood. I don’t know who he is, but his lips remind me of Riordan’s. His nose is Lorcan’s. His hair is Tiarnan’s. And the strong set to his brutally chiseled jaw is Cillian’s.

I wake up panting, and in that same moment, the skin on my neck tingles with familiar heat and I instinctively reach under my pillow for a weapon as I jerk up from where I’m tangled up with the sheets.

“Have you always been this unsettled?” a voice drawls ahead of me and my head snaps to the windowsill where a figure is perched comfortably. I’ve never been more grateful that I sleep with the lights on, because I’d ha