“Stop it,” I snarled, but he was right. I’d dreamed of him again, holding me, kissing me, not betraying me. You know, all the good stuff. Shame he had to ruin it. “Darcy,” he said gently. “You know you can talk to me about him, you don’t have to bottle it up.” I shook my head, the wound over Orion begging to split open in me again, but fuck that.
