Rhea stirred, her body heavy, a flush of heat pooling low in her belly as she surfaced from a dream—vivid, slick, her skin tingling with phantom touches.
The blanket cocooned her, soft but stifling, and a dampness clung to her thighs, her panties unmistakably wet, a pulsing ache betraying the dream's nature.
Her breath hitched, her mind grasping at fading images—hands, whispers, thrusts, thrill, almost seemed real.
But as she shifted, her arms and legs refused to move, bound tight to the bed's frame.
She also felt it, the cold weight of the collar hugged her neck, its hum a familiar restraint, snuffing her fire-based powers, leaving her vulnerable, exposed.
Panic flared, her heart racing, and she yelled, her voice raw, echoing in the dim room. "Kael!"
Within seconds, the door creaked open, morning light spilling from the Haven's hallway, casting Kael's silhouette—dark tee, jeans, his hazel eyes shadowed with concern, his face taut, worry etched in the lines of his jaw.
