The Night Curse (Book one)
Chapter 26 The Dreamwalker

Behind me only dark woodland; in front of me the beast prowling for its prey. I see his black shadow on the ground take a step closer, too close. I had planned to confront him, but as soon as I caught sight of his inky form, I took off running. Pumped my legs until my thighs burned and my throat grew parched. Fled like I should have the moment that I had met him. But no expanse of space or sore muscles could quell the roaring in my ears.

I can’t run from the truth despite my efforts. In the dream world, Harlow effortlessly vanishes and then reappears infront of me, blocking my exits.

“Don’t.” I turn away from his face and the dream that he has beckoned. Anger sizzles inside of me, and I clench my hands, if only to stop myself from slapping him. Harlow is not the man that I thought.

He is a hunter.

And I was to be his hunted.

How could I have been so stupid as to believe that a human man could want to be with me? Harlow had shown me the terror and hate that he felt for me on our first meeting. He’d taken my hand, reluctantly, like I was laden with a contagious disease. He’d spat his words and scorned me down like the pathetic mutant that I am. And still I’d pined for him. Hoped that he’d learn to see pass the label, to the woman that lay beneath, begging to be set free.

I grimace at the memories and turn away. Strong fingers grab my jaw and drag my face back. He holds my gaze for a brief moment before I flinch from the trace of him, knowing my eyes speak of his deceit. “I’m surprised that you even dare to touch me. Don’t I repulse you? Or is this one of your games?”

Long moments pass. His breath appears to match the thundering of my heart. It forces my head to look upon his. The moon drapes his angled face in a cloak of silver. His pale eyes widen and his mouth parts as if to speak. Even after what I have learnt, he has me weak at the knees. I lean away but my back is met with the hardness of the tree. I sense him closing in: the heat of his body inches from mine and brace myself for his touch, ache for it, my instincts failing me. Because there had been a time where all I had wanted was this. A man to see me, all of me, and want me still.

He pushes up against me, and I can feel him. How much he wants me. The granite length bulges between us. Does he aim to taunt me? Laugh at the lust on my face? I want to push him away and pull him closer at the very same time. My chest rises as heat and confusion consume me whole. Visions of Harlow dancing with me, kissing me clash with the glaring disdain I’d also witnessed. My legs prepare to run again, for I should flee from the feelings surging beneath my skin, before I do something stupid. But Harlow grazes my cheek, painfully slow, and his overwhelming presence roots me to the spot, entrapping me like a fox within a snare.

Fingers lift my chin, leading my gaze from the column of his throat, to those piercing blue eyes. “All I want to do is touch you. From the moment I met you, I’ve been trying to summon the hate that I should feel, but I fail every time. Instead of fear, I feel wonder. Instead of anger, I feel sorrow. Instead of hate, I feel… love.” His hand slips lightly around my neck, and I think this is how it ends. “Amelia.” My name on his lips, so urgent and full of wanting, is my undoing. He gently pulls me towards him, and I am desperate for his mouth to replace me in the darkness. Our lips brush together, and he keeps me there, burning for him, waiting for my approval.

Do I believe him? It is so hard to think clearly with him so close. I’m heady at the thought of him, the chance of something good and precious and pure.

I lean closer to his mouth, my body bending to his will, and tug on his lips with my teeth. Partly biting out of fury and partly out of crumbling restraint.

His eyes turn dark. Fingers weave through my hair, and his lips connect to mine. His kiss is deep and needy as we push and pull against one another, clawing at clothes and skin, frantic for more. Kissing him is like plunging into an ocean. I fall deeper—losing myself to the moment, the dream melting around us. With his fingers caressing my curves, his tongue colliding with mine, I need not ever breathe again.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers against the shell of my ear. Beautiful, not monstrous. Harlow cups my chin, staring boldly into my violet rings. “It’s true. I am a Dreamwalker Hunter. I was sent to replace you, and I’m so glad that I did. You opened my eyes to the injustice of this…divide. I have never and will never kill a Dreamwalker, because I see how wrong that would be, and because… I love you, Amelia Harling.”

Those words…I hadn’t even let myself imagine them being spoken. It seemed too improper, too unlikely. Yet here they were. Alive and real and mine. With water welling in my eyes, my reply is instant. “I love you, too.”

Harlow hugs me tightly. I sink into his hold as his words sink into me. He loves me.

“But your family, Harlow, they hate me.”

“Then change their opinions. I know that you can. Hyacinth did.”

I look up at him from the crook of his chest. “You don’t mean that.” I knew now that I’d walk to the ends or the Earth for this man, but using my powers, on his own family, is a request that I never thought I’d hear.

“I do. If you can turn my father, then he will right Austin. You need to alter the memory that put all this in motion—my mother’s death. Before a Dreamwalker killed her he felt sorry for Dreamwalkers. Welcomed them into our home. If you could erase the way that she died, or change his perception of it some way, then he wouldn’t feel such hate for them.”

It sounds plausible, but such a significant memory, with a stranger, would take something personal—significant. “How would I connect with him?”

“Back at the farm, by my father’s bed, there is a pouch that holds my mother’s wedding band. Will that work?”

It belonged to Evelyn, but Harlow’s father gave it to her. “It will work.”

I kiss Harlow once more and stand to leave his dream. “His name. What is your father’s name?” I ask before leaving.

“Frederick.”

And with that, we both open our eyes and return to our separate worlds.