Mirabelle woke up unable to breathe.
This wasn't a nightmare. It was a thousand pounds of ancient weapon holding her down on the mattress.
Revas was still asleep, sprawled over her like a heavy, warm blanket. His face was tucked into her neck, his white hair spread across the pillows, and one heavy arm rested across her chest.
She tried to push him off, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
"Revas," she wheezed. "Get off."
Revas groaned, a deep rumble that she could feel in her chest.
"No," he mumbled into her skin. "The sun is too bright. Turn it off."
"It's the sun, Revas. I can't turn it off."
"You're the Saintess," he grumbled, cracking one eye open just a bit, showing a hint of tired violet. "Perform a miracle. Make it night again."
He finally rolled off her and flopped onto his back with a dramatic sigh, then covered his eyes with his arm.
