It should help that he’s still there beside me when I open my eyes, but it doesn’t. In fact, looking into those black eyes of his, the ones that are so undeniably similar to those of the dragon who murdered my parents, I hear myself screaming even louder.
“Shh,” he whispers soothingly into my ear, taking me into his arms and squeezing me tightly. “Nell, it’s okay—it was just a dream—it wasn’t real—”
I squirm away from him, forcing the screams back, forcing myself off the bed entirely. I’m not mad at him—I know it’s not his fault—and yet…
“It was real,” I whisper. The hatred in my voice is impossible to disguise. He hears it instantly, I can tell.
The worry that clouds his eyes comforts me a little, but not enough. He looks the right kind of worried, if that even makes sense—not that he
