My gaze traveled up the strong column of his neck, caressing the hard line of his jaw, before staring into the clear beauty of Samkiel’s eyes. He looked exactly how he did on Onuna, not Rashearim. He wore no armor, no long wavy hair, or shrouds of guards around him. “Why is this still happening?” My heart thudded in my chest, and dread filled me, forcing me to step back. “I don’t want to dream of you anymore. I can’t,” I said, my voice shaking.
