Chapter 66 Chapter Sixty-Six
A soft knock rapped against her chamber door.
Kaelani stirred, still caught in the fog of sleep. She didn’t wake fully—just shifted, a faint frown tugging at her brow.
Another knock. Firmer this time.
Her eyes blinked open.
The room was dim, painted in shadow and streaks of silver where moonlight filtered through the gauzy curtains. She sat up slowly, disoriented by the silence, the cold, the pull of something half-remembered.
Then came a voice—quiet, familiar—from the other side of the door.
“My Grace?”
It was Soraya.
“…Yes,” Kaelani cleared her throat. “Come in.”
The door creaked open.
Soraya entered quietly, her expression respectful as always. “Forgive the intrusion,” she said gently, “but Lord Draevyn asked that I check on you. It’s well past midday.”
Kaelani swung her feet over the edge of the bed, sitting up fully. She ran a hand over her face with a groggy sigh.
“Midday?” she muttered. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept in that late in my whole life.”
Her gaze drifted toward the curtained windows, the muted light seeping through like a secret.
“This place is definitely messing with my circadian rhythm.”
Soraya tilted her head, a soft crease forming between her brows. “Circadian… rhythm? I’m not familiar with that term.”
Kaelani gave a faint, sleepy smile. “It’s like… an internal clock. Tells your body when to sleep, when to wake up.”
“Ah,” Soraya said, thoughtful. “Is it a mortal thing?”
Kaelani shrugged slightly. “I guess.”
Kaelani let out a breath and rubbed her temples. “I didn’t sleep well last night,” she muttered, then looked up at Soraya. “Can I ask you something?”
Soraya nodded, attentive.
Kaelani hesitated for half a second, then asked, “The Seelie Queen… Lyressa. Has she ever tried to dream-walk anyone before?”
At that, Soraya blinked—clearly startled. She glanced instinctively over her shoulder, checking the hall behind her before stepping back to the door and easing it shut. A soft click echoed in the quiet room.
Then she crossed to the wall and flipped a small switch near the corner sconce. A gentle warmth bloomed overhead as enchanted crystals shimmered to life—glowing with a soft, sun-gold hue that mimicked daylight, casting the room in a muted, ethereal glow.
Turning back to Kaelani, Soraya lowered her voice.
“No,” she said, measured and serious. “Queen Lyressa is completely debilitated. Frozen in every way that matters. Her body. Her voice. Her mind. She has no use of her powers… not even the smallest flicker.”
Kaelani tilted her head, watching Soraya carefully. “Why do you seem so secretive about it?”
Soraya hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the door again before settling back on Kaelani.
“Because you must use extreme caution,” she said softly, but firmly. “I know you’re just beginning to understand your powers—but dream-walking any Seelie, especially Queen Lyressa, is forbidden.”
Kaelani’s brows pulled together. “I didn’t… wait…” Her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why is it forbidden?”
Soraya’s eyes darkened. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Because if you dream walk her, even unintentionally, it could awaken her. Lyressa may be frozen in time, but her mind is still ancient—still powerful. Entering her realm could give her access to your power… and through that, she may find a way to free herself.”
Kaelani opened her mouth to speak—then paused.
“You must never dream walk her,” Soraya warned, firm but not unkind. “She’s too dangerous.”
“I didn’t,” Kaelani said slowly. “At least… it didn’t feel like I did.” Her voice softened, troubled. “It felt like I was being pulled into it.”
Soraya exhaled slowly, her tone gentle but edged with concern. “Sometimes… curiosity can be louder than caution. You may not have meant to reach for her, but part of you might have been drawn in—especially if you weren’t fully aware of the danger.”
Kaelani’s gaze dropped slightly, her mind turning over the memory like a stone in her palm.
“You’re still learning,” Soraya went on. “But now you know. You must be extremely careful when wandering in the dream state. Intentional or not… there are forces here that would seize any opportunity to break free.”
Kaelani didn’t respond right away.
Her thoughts turned inward—back to the first dream-walks with Julian. How strange they’d been at first. Accidental. Unfiltered. She hadn’t meant to reach for him, or pull him into her dreams… but she had. And she understood that now. She knew what it felt like when she initiated it.
But this… this hadn’t felt like her at all.
Before she could dwell deeper, Soraya spoke again.
“I wouldn’t mention this mishap to Lord Draevyn,” she said quietly. “He may become… reluctant to continue teaching you. But perhaps your next lesson should focus on fully mastering your dream-walking abilities.”
Kaelani gave Soraya a quiet nod, though confusion still tugged at the edges of her thoughts like mist refusing to lift. Whatever that dream had been… it hadn’t felt like hers. But if she was going to learn to control these powers—really control them—she couldn’t keep wandering blind.
So she took Soraya’s advice.
Later that afternoon, Draevyn led her into a part of the castle she hadn’t seen before—deep underground, where the air was cooler, stiller, and thrummed with some kind of old, quiet magic. The sanctum chamber.
It was circular and domed, with dark stone walls and pillars carved with ancient symbols that curved inward like the ribs of some long-dead god. A large circular sigil was etched into the center of the floor—layered with runes that shimmered softly underfoot. Sconces on the walls cast a muted blue flame, lending the space a calm, otherworldly glow.
Four fae women waited within.
Each of them turned as Draevyn entered, their faces brightening with a too-eager kind of reverence. One even dipped her head slightly, lips parting in a smile that bordered on adoration—or perhaps even lust. But when their gazes flicked to Kaelani, the temperature dropped. The warmth in their eyes cooled to guarded politeness. Another simply looked through her entirely.
Kaelani didn’t flinch. She’d spent her whole life being underestimated, dismissed, or quietly resented for simply existing.
Let them look.
She lifted her chin and met their eyes—steady and unbothered.
In the far corner, the Seers had gathered—quiet in their strange, eternal way. They watched her with interest, their presence heavy but not unwelcome. Observers, today. No doubt curious about the progress of their Queen.
Draevyn stepped into the center of the room and gestured for Kaelani to join him.
“Today,” he said, “you’ll learn how to take back control.”
She approached, keeping her gaze on his.
“When I intercepted your dream-walk with Julian,” he continued, voice calm but firm, “I could sense you trying to resist me. Not perfectly. Not consciously. But the instinct was there.”
He turned to the four women. “These fae will intercept your dream today. Your task is to reclaim it. Shape it. Anchor it as your own.”
Kaelani frowned slightly. “And how do I do that?”
“Focus. Presence. Command,” Draevyn replied. “But first—stillness.”
He extended a hand, and with a faint hum of power, the circle on the floor brightened.
“Positions,” he said.
The fae women moved to stand at four equidistant points along the outer ring—facing inward. Kaelani was guided to the center. Draevyn stood just beyond the circle, arms folded, watching her closely.
“Fae don’t need sleep to dream-walk,” he explained. “A meditative state can be enough. Today, I’ll guide you into that threshold.”
He nodded once.
“Close your eyes, Kaelani. Let go of everything that is not you. And remember—what you allow, they will take. What you claim… they cannot.”
Kaelani closed her eyes—and the other fae followed.
A hush fell over the chamber, pierced only by the soft crackle of blue fire from the sconces. At first, Kaelani tried to mimic how it felt in her sleep—slipping through the veil of thought, drifting loose like a current searching for minds to brush against.
But nothing moved.
No tug. No weightless drift. No sensation of falling inward like there had been before.
Instead, it was like wading into a tide that kept rejecting her—like trying to sink in water that suddenly turned to stone. Her breath hitched. Her pulse thudded louder in her ears. The silence grew tighter.
Then—
Laughter.
It burst from the fae women—sharp and echoing. Not amused, but mocking. One of them even clutched her stomach, the sound ringing off the stone walls.
Kaelani’s cheeks flared with heat.
But before the laughter could swell again, Draevyn’s voice cut through it like a blade.
“Silence.”
The command held no raised tone—only an edge of absolute finality. The room obeyed.
He stepped forward, his voice low and steady now, like a tether offered in the dark.
“You’re trying too hard to escape, Kaelani. Stop reaching outward.”
He approached the edge of the glowing circle.
“The dream-state is not some distant world you have to chase. It begins here—” he touched two fingers to his temple, “—and here.” His hand lowered to her chest, hovering near her sternum.
“Anchor yourself. Feel your body, your breath. Let go of expectation, and surrender to stillness. You don’t find the current by flailing. You find it by listening.”
He held her gaze.
“Now again. This time, don’t run. Let it come.”
Kaelani closed her eyes again.
This time, she didn’t reach. She stilled.
Centered.
Grounded herself.
She felt the weight of her body, the rise and fall of her breath, the slow beat of her heart like a drum echoing through bone and blood. The room, the circle, even the presence of the others began to fade—dissolving into shadow and silence.
And then—she slipped.
Not outward, but inward.
The stillness gave way to motion. A ripple. A thread of awareness stretching like gossamer across the veil. Her mind began to drift—searching, sensing—like a hand brushing across the surface of water, skimming the edges of other consciousnesses.
They flickered past her like candle flames in the dark.
Adults. Children. Elders. Lovers. Soldiers. Dreamers.
Some minds were murky with exhaustion. Others burned with nightmares or longing. She could feel the texture of their thoughts—their fears and memories, desires and regrets—swirling just beneath the surface, all of them laid bare in the liminal space between sleep and waking.
She could enter any one of them.
Could step into their dreams, shape them, pull meaning from them like thread from a spool.
But her gut twisted.
These were strangers. People with no idea she was brushing against the doors of their subconscious. What right did she have to walk into their most private places? To peek behind the curtain of their minds and witness the raw pieces of their inner lives?
It felt… wrong.
Powerful.
And deeply invasive.
Her soul recoiled even as her senses expanded, refusing to intrude.
Still, the current of awareness carried her on—until something shifted.
A thread pulsed brighter. Familiar. Close.
Kaelani’s mind turned toward it, drawn like a tide pulled by the moon.
Garrick.