Kaelen dreamed of warmth.
Soft sheets beneath his back. A pillow that cradled his head. The gentle weight of a blanket pulled up to his chin. He had not slept well for weeks. Had not felt this kind of comfort since before the quarry. Before the blood, before the silver veins that now pulsed beneath his skin.
His body relaxed into the mattress. His breathing slowed, the network hummed at the edge of his awareness, a distant song that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat. He let it fade. Let himself drift.
The dream shifted.
Warmth turned cold. The soft sheets became stone, the pillow disappeared, replaced by the hard press of rock against his skull. He opened his eyes.
A cave.
Dripping water. The sharp smell of wet stone. The roar of a river somewhere below. And a man dangling over the edge, held by the throat, boots kicking against empty air.
Aperi.
Kaelen's body moved before his mind caught up.
