Morpheus had been preparing his Kingdom from the moment he decided to strike down The Night King.
The King of Dreams aimed to avoid conflict wherever he could, but knowing the High Fae outwardly broke his rules, he had to take distinctive action to protect what was his. It was unlike Morpheus to fight – he unfailingly sought to work around any and all conflicts(his siblings deemed him apathetic ages ago), but his choices were slim in this situation.
The Night King had been stealing children for a century and subsequently attacking Elara. The first was a direct infringement on his realm and his rule. The latter, well, that was a direct attack on what was his. Morpheus' usually distant nature would not suffice in this instance – he had adjusted to a new way of thinking since his release, and measures were to be taken to stop the Fae's brutal assault.
Dream's Monday was filled with dissecting the potential realities of the fight. How powerful was the Night King? Where were his weaknesses? What tricks could the Fae pull to disarm him?
Lucienne had discovered that over 246 children were kidnapped from The Dreaming during Morpheus' imprisonment. The bodies were never located and correlated with records in the Waking World of missing children reports.
This suggested that the Night King was extraordinary in his power. That amount of Eternal Essence he had robbed could build a reality as easily as it could devastate it.
While the Night King likely used little force to kidnap Elara while Dream was trapped in Burgess' basement, the amount of energy it took to place that Onyx Door within The Dreaming after his liberation was astounding. Morpheus would have to presume that they were playing on an even grounds in terms of strength, or else he would enter the battle with ignorance in his blood.
The next thing he uncovered is that, like The Dreaming, the Night King had much control over the Below. The Fae could manipulate reality there, operating magic and chaos as an unbeknownst source of energy.
The fight could conceivably happen within the Below, but if it happened in The Dreaming, Dream would have an advantage. If the battle was brought to the Waking World, Morpheus feared human casualties.
It only reaffirmed Elara's plan – the best place to lure the Night King would be within The Dreaming, and Morpheus had begun to create a sealed trap within his realm as per her idea. He focused on building something that could be seamlessly entered but virtually impossible to leave.
To perfect such a trap, Morpheus needed about another three sun cycles to complete it, and the task of creating had already begun. He spun and weaved and built and sealed. He worked tirelessly to shape what would be the holding cell of the Night King by using glittering pieces of sand and whisks of his boundless energy.
It felt like he was crafting starlight and dreams into an inescapable plane of existence, using his very essence to mold the perfect containment chamber.
While he wasn't working on the trap, he spent a considerable amount of time with Lucienne on making sure certain aspects of The Dreaming were sustained. They made preparations for the worst, such as if the sealed trap somehow broke – which he highly doubted, but arrogance had led him astray before – and what to do if the Night King was unleashed.
He was making an effort to listen to the advice of Lucienne and others, understanding there was much he could learn from those he ruled. Mervyn Pumpkinhead – an incredible builder by design – suggested assembling the trap like an onion, so if The Night King broke out of one layer, he'd slip into another.
Morpheus was delighted by this concept and worked it into his construction sessions.
Lucienne then urged Dream to meet with his sister, Death, as he kept repeating the ominous phrase throughout their meetings, "Should I not return, this is what you shall do." And while Morpheus hated to admit any weakness, he was taking active steps to listen to those around him. On the advice of Lucienne, which was a first, he heeded her words to seek out his sister.
It was Monday afternoon when he met Death, who was leaning against a metal railing alongside the River Thames.
The sun was brilliant overhead with a rich cerulean sky and life bubbling around. The evergreen trees were swaying in the gentle breeze, and the temperature was crisp and light. Birds were in flight, soaring through the sky in patterns of intrinsic magnificence. The sun's rays beamed down from above to kiss the earth, shimmering through the air in streaks of heavenly beauty.
"About time, yeah? You took your sweet time getting here," Death outwardly scolded with a wary smile, looking directly at Morpheus.
Her ebony skin was as smooth as silk, and she wore her customary black attire and trademark Ankh necklace. Her coal-black hair was perfectly kept in its spring curls, dancing around her shoulders. The daylight seemed to latch onto Death, basking her easily in luster as she came to stand upright.
Dream always was amused that despite being Death, humanity had given his sister such a stamp of darkness for her gift – a black cloak, a scythe, a face made entirely of bones, when she was actually the epitome of vibrance and beauty.
"It is good to see you too, sister," Morpheus warmly replied, the smallest grin stretching at his lips. He found it harder nowadays to scowl all the time – he was abruptly optimistic with his life, and he could not suppress his lips from their joyous curved betrayal.
Death instantly noticed her brother's uniquely bright expression. She huffed a knowing smile. "We clearly have a lot to talk about."
"Lead the way," Morpheus announced, and Death guided them along the river's boarding stone walkway.
Morpheus had a subtle crinkle at the corner of his eyes, his mind distracted and continuously drifting back to his woman. The embodiment of Death took note, an amused visage rippled across her face. "I'm assuming things went well with Elara?"
Morpheus exhaled a considerable breath, straining to drive his never-ending grin away. "To say things are going well is an understatement."
Things with Elara were going incredible, even better than incredible.
She was enthralling, mesmerizing, liberating, temptatious, effortless… Morpheus was immersed in the deep well of passion he had for Elara. He unabashedly could admit his feelings of love for the first time in his existence. Morpheus truly believed he had found the one being in the entirety of reality that could warm his callous heart.
Death kept her stride, mirroring Morpheus' pleasant composure. "I never thought I'd live to see the day. You look positively thrilled."
Morpheus let his lips widen for an instant before hardness overflowed his eyes. His jaw tensed, and veins flexed along the columns of his neck as he shoved his hands deep into his pocket, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"You were right, though," Morpheus dimly muttered. "There was much more to this than meets the eye."
"How do you figure?" Death examined him closely, always listening like the thoughtful sibling she was.
"In recent days," the King of Dreams said, his normal stoic exterior firmly in place as his throat, in stark contrast, bobbed with hesitation. "We discovered that Elara is, in fact, Alena's reincarnation."
Death immediately halted in her tracks, her arms folding to cross in front of her chest. "I had a feeling that might have been the case – I couldn't know for sure, though. How did you come about this?"
Morpheus slightly pursed his lips, his vision washing over the greenery behind Death as he sourced the best way to continue. "Alena visited Elara in her soul space."
Death's big brown hues searched Morpheus as she commented, "Remarkable."
Morpheus' lips tautened as he grumbled, "It gets a bit more complicated than that, sister."
He reached forward to grasp Death's hands, holding them firmly within his own. Death cocked her head at his sudden intensity, her forehead scrunching as she waited for him to speak.
It was as if lightning struck behind the verdant color of his eyes, boring into Death as he uttered, "Elara, within her very spirit, is The Great Power."
Astonishment snapped onto Death's face before their next heartbeat. Her brows raised to her hairline, her jaw hung low, and she instantly took a step backward as if the information compelled her body to recoil.
Morpheus held her securely, knowing that the details he just shared were euphoric to The Endless. It was the most important aspect of their very being. The Great Power was their creator.
His sister's mouth gradually curved upward before a sudden bright laugh unleashed from her throat. Morpheus' head tilted in confusion as Death grinned, "You would fall in love with The Great Power." She reconnected her lips as she squeezed back his hands in return. "The two greatest creators of our reality also happen to be intended."
Morpheus exhaled a deep breath that was tight in his lungs. "It is precisely what the Night King was attempting to find all this time within Elara. The Eternal Essence he had been stealing was used to break into The Dreaming, kidnap Elara's soul, and torture her in hopes of her revealing where it had been hidden."
Death bobbed her head, hooking her arm into Dream's as she gestured down the walkway. They resumed their stride, the light melody of the river trickling beside them as their background symphony.
Morpheus pursed his lips before he remarked. "I will have to go to war with the Night King in the coming days. He has broken many of my laws, such as stealing and murdering dreamers, kidnapping Elara, and plaguing my realm."
"How unlike you to be so confrontational," Death mused aloud. The melodic rushing of the river alongside them was soothing, despite the dark dynamism of their exchange.
"I realize now that actions speak louder than words," Morpheus admitted, feeling pridefulness swell within him. "I cannot rule my Kingdom powerfully if I do not protect those who inhabit it. And with the Night King's increasing power, it will only get worse."
Death glittered in response. "You have changed, brother. For the better."
"I suppose I have."
Morpheus allowed himself to warm at his sister's compliment, which he usually would cast away as a part of his mental defense. Before his imprisonment, he was commonly known to be aloof, petty, and vindictive, and he actively distanced himself from... anyone. Since he had been freed and was infected by Elara's love, he had become committed, protective, and hopeful. He had changed.
But, Death's voice was low when she warned, "You do realize how dangerous it is, fight with the Below. You truly have no idea how strong he has become."
Morpheus nodded, the gravity of the upcoming week pressing down on him like the universe was set upon his shoulders. "I'm aware... it is why I am taking time to prepare for all outcomes." His eyes flickering to meet hers as they walked, "But, should anything go wrong, all I ask is that you ensure The Dreaming does not decay in the way it had in the past. I cannot let my dreams and nightmares suffer again."
Death immediately frowned at his words, mulling over the promise she was able to make. She could only wither at his statement. "I can't do much, but I'll do what I can. And good luck with what is ahead. I know it won't be easy, but I know you'll come out of it the better."
"Thank you," Morpheus breathed. Suddenly, strong arms enclosed him as Death brought him into an unusual, compressed hug. Dream could not remember the last time he embraced his sister, and yet the sensation was dispatching warmth into his chest.
At her gesture, he knew it wasn't enough to thank her – this could potentially be one of the last times he spoke to his sister. He fully enveloped Death back within his arms, grateful he had someone like her for all this while. In their embrace, Death couldn't help but murmur a familiar phrase against the lapels of his coat, "The Night King has no idea what is coming to him."
A tiny, minuscule chuckle radiated within his ribs.
Once again, Morpheus held his sister just a bit tighter, burying himself in the forest of her hair and the sweet aroma of sunflowers that came with it. When Death pulled away, she locked gazes with him once again. A new kind of sorrow set on her lips as she whispered, "And if I see you at the end of all of this, I will gladly guide you to the Sunless Lands."
By the time the workday came to an end, Lucy and Elara had done copious amounts of work toward their Thursday meeting. They were silent most of the day, getting through the mundane tasks and writing obscene amounts of analysis within their proposal. By the time they shut their laptops at 5 PM, both women had completed enough work to satisfy what they needed to get done but left their brains as puddles of liquid.
Jason had not made another appearance, and Elara could've sworn she heard a few people around the office ask, 'Have you seen Jason?' 'Jason was supposed to look over this, but I can't find him.'
It made Elara's hair stand on end, but it seemed that Jason had left the office after their encounter at her desk. It was beyond the point of suspicion, and Elara knew it was first on her list to address with the King of Dreams.
Elara and Lucy were zombies as they packed their bags and headed downstairs at the day's end. As they left the elevator in the lobby, Jenn waved at them. "Have a good day, girls."
"Bye, Jenn," Lucy replied for the both of them. They exited the building with their coats securely fastened and bags clutched tight under their arms.
The girls did not get very far after the building door closed behind them.
Elara heard Lucy mutter, "Wow."
And she knew exactly what she was referencing.
Elara's face immediately lit up at the sight of Dream standing not too far from her building. He was cooly waiting outside, and the sight of him evoked a temptatious warmth to cascade under her skin like the beginnings of a fire. He wore his black wool coat, lapels twisted up and dressed ever so him. His vision locked onto hers, and she instantly flushed – she would never be able to stop her body's inherent, heated reaction to him.
A smile tugged at her lips as he approached the two, his hands deep in his pockets. He stopped before them as he ever-so-slightly inclined his head. "Elara, Lucy."
Lucy ushered out her hand to Dream. "We weren't properly introduced last time."
Morpheus' gaze flickered down to the small girl and her extended arm. His face was neutral as he clasped her hand, giving it a small shake, then returning to his pocket. "It is nice to meet you, Lucy. Elara speaks highly of you."
"She speaks very highly of you," Lucy grinned widely, only for Elara's lids to flare wide. LUCY.
Elara knew her best friend extraordinarily well, and she could pinpoint exactly what Lucy was referencing by the inflection of her tone. Elara never denied Lucy's remarks about his… size. Sometimes, Lucy was too bold for her own good.
The brunette used every ounce of strength within her to control the scarlet coloring from creeping into her cheeks. She simultaneously restrained herself from smashing her face into her palms to stifle her rising embarrassment, hiding from the outward comment on Morpheus'... size.
"Does she?" Morpheus amusedly buzzed, retraining his vision back on Elara. He seemed refreshed, bright-eyed, and… almost human. His eyes scanned her face with a slight hint of a smile while Elara battled down her mortification.
The minuscule cheerful gesture made her chest grow warm, a wave of calm. Elara subtly motioned down the street. "We should get going."
He gave her a faint nod in agreement. Elara swooped forward and braided her arms through his, instantly dissolving at the sensation of his body touching hers. The pair took a step away from the building before Elara glanced back at Lucy. "See you tomorrow."
Lucy crossed her arms, and a devilish smirk marched across her mouth. She gave Morpheus a once-over from top to bottom. Elara knew exactly what her friend was doing – sizing him up… in many ways. In all ways.
"Why is she looking at me like that?" Morpheus bent down, whispering cautiously in Elara's ear.
Elara gulped, her face on fire. "Don't worry about it."
The brunette watched her work wife's grin transform into the most endearing smile. Lucy was truly happy for her, and Elara could tell. Lucy then hollered, "Let me know if you can do Thursday! I promise it'll be fun!" Her friend gave Elara one departing wave as she made off in the opposite direction.
"Thursday?" Morpheus smoothly inquired, steering them away from Breckett.
"Another wine night with the girls. I don't know if I should go," Elara honestly answered.
"Does it involve dramatic staring contests and simultaneous ingestion of wine?"
It seemed Lucy's stare down and wine-chug left a permanent mark on Dream of the Endless.
"Not on my end." Elara brightly laughed, "I am still shocked that Lucy didn't even breathe the entire time. We should just send her to face the Night King." Elara joked, "I'm confident he'd back down the moment he saw her."
Morpheus finally let a half smile tow at his mouth now that the two of them were alone. He quipped back, "Our most fierce warrior."
Elara curled into Morpheus' arm, inhaling his familiar scent of pine and honey. Her fingertips brushed his wool coat and instinctively stroked the fabric in an affectionate way. She was secure with her beloved in her grasp, the last rays of sunlight beaming down on them from the rich reddening sky. The sun was slowly receding, and nighttime was quickly drifting into the atmosphere. They had walked into the square they had traversed together before, bustling with people.
And for a moment, despite Jason lingering at the forefront of her mind, she simply wanted to take a second to bask in something she loved, not something she feared. With Morpheus by her side, it was like a surge of tranquility whisked over her mind and body, and she selfishly wanted to steal an instant of normalcy before being thrown into the chaos that was her co-worker.
Her boots clinked against the sidewalk, enjoying the beat to decompress. Morpheus was rather quiet, but Elara didn't really mind. It was refreshing to have a simple, normal walk home from work. The birds were flying overhead with the wind, the clouds were smoothly rolling, and the sky continuously transforming into a darker blue. The air smelled clean, filling her lungs with freshness.
And weirdly, the thought hit her.
Her power built this.
At some point, the swirling energy inside of her created everything she witnessed before her. It was an astronomical thought that made her feel like a fraud in her own body.
Morpheus gazed down at her, noticing her vision wandering more as she welcomed the magnificence of life through new eyes.
"What is on your mind?" He steadily asked, interrupting her other-worldly introspections.
Elara hugged him a bit closer and glimpsed upwards to encounter his kaleidoscopic stare. "It's still all… settling. You know? I don't know how to feel like myself anymore, and I am still working on accepting who I am."
"It will come in time."
"I know."
Morpheus leaned down a bit, and Elara could faintly detect his fragrance waft through her nose. He curiously questioned her, "And your work? Did you enjoy it?"
Elara nodded and responded proudly, "I always enjoy it. I love what I do, even if it's a little monotonous some days. I really think that we are changing the world with what we publish."
"It is important to have pride in what you do – it is where inspiration meets fruition."
His words were always so incredibly meaningful, woven and crafted like spoken art itself. She wondered if, one day, she would be able to compose sentences with such depth and weight.
They had just passed Sam, The Ice Cream Man, happily scooping his dessert for a few awaiting customers. The square was bustling, and a giant water fountain in the middle sprouted water upwards into the sky. Children played around the fountain, their lively laughter like a song against the spouting water.
"Today went well, all things considered," Elara candidly noted, remarking on how well she did at her office. "I didn't feel the need to implode so we can mark this Monday a success."
Morpheus hardened considerably at her joke. It was as if she extinguished the brightness in him, despite thinking her sarcasm was very funny. It was obvious that Dream of The Endless was extremely possessive of her life.
Elara laughed it off with a shake of her head. "Don't be so serious."
"I'm not serious."
"Yes, you are, you're practically pouting." The brunette nudged him lightly, shaking him in her grip in a failed attempt to loosen him up. He sometimes acted like a moody teenager.
Suddenly, the thick, heavy knot in her stomach jostled, pushing to the edge of her tongue. "Something weird did happen today. One of my co-workers, Jason Lancaster, who already gives me the strangest feelings, was really… off today."
Morpheus's eyebrows lowered, listening intently as his eyes thundered with forewarning.
Elara lightly licked her lips, continuing, "I've honestly enjoyed working with him, but he has mismatched eyes. Diana said the condition was common, but after he was so… aggressive today, it put a pit in my stomach, and it's still there."
The King of Dreams frowned, the creases by his eyebrows deepening as he brought the two to a stop. His head tilted at her words, processing, before he darkly replied, "Does your hesitation come from his likeness to the Night King?"
It was his particular choice of words that had her freeze entirely. Her mouth parted as she ingested his suggestion, and her lids enlarged. Fear trickled into her expression as she whispered, "In some ways, yes."
Morpheus' countenance immediately blackened, his swirling hues narrowing at her like a viper ready to embed its sharp fangs into her flesh. Her skin prickled as he intensely inspected her face. "Have you felt this way for a while?"
Elara's nose scrunched as she pulled the observations from her throat. "I always felt like my skin was crawling around him, but… he was so normal. He is normal. We've had beers and coffee and have talked about his life extensively to the point where I didn't think it could be a lie. All the dots were connected. I just thought it was his eyes that made me feel this way. But now, looking back at Alena's memory, I think the eyes are the same. Obviously, without the hair, pointed ears, and teeth…."
At that moment, Elara nearly became afraid of Morpheus. His hues had hatred swirling behind them, and all signs of comfort from moments ago had dissipated entirely. All she saw was the King of Dreams, fuming at the thought of the Night King infiltrating another area of her life.
"Let's find out then," Morpheus spoke steadily, his voice dropping to an octave that she didn't think existed. It forced an unforeseen shiver to sprint down her spine.
Before Elara knew it, sand was enclosing them in a vortex of cosmic glitter. The infinitesimal grains whisked into the air, churning around them like a whirlpool as their bodies shifted through space itself. Elara would never get used to the sensation of her body being displaced and then reformed, transported away from The Waking World.
Morpheus was already storming off when the sand settled them down in the Library of The Dreaming on one of the upper levels.
Before she could even really understand what was happening, Moprheus was shooting down one of the aisles, his long black coat flailing behind him. Elara gathered herself, her hand gripping the oak railing beside her for balance. She exhaled a large sigh as her eyes tracked around the various columns surrounding her, the smell of books tickling her nose. Warmth trilled inside her, the way it always did when she entered a place of boundless knowledge and worn pages. She loved libraries but evidently loved this one the most.
Within seconds, a light voice piped up from Elara's right. "Hello!"
Elara turned her head to encounter Lucienne, currently standing beside her and seeming ever so chipper. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she acknowledged Elara.
A friendly smile immediately spread across her lips. "Lucienne, hi."
The Librarian pointedly watched the back of Morpheus' head disappear behind a far row of shelves, vanishing from sight. "Is he alright?"
Elara couldn't stop the faint laugh from escaping her throat. "Honestly, I never really know. He has like 3 expressions that have very little variation from one another."
Lucienne instantly reflected her laughter, joining in. "Brooding Version 1, Brooding Version 2, which is slightly scarier."
Elara couldn't help but add, "Brooding Version 3 is my favorite – it has the lip pout."
The two women flashed their teeth as chuckles continuously paddled through their lungs. Elara knew she was supposed to take this journey to the Library very seriously, but Morpheus didn't disclose why they were there. Morpheus had just vanished behind some of the soaring racks of texts and had not returned.
The brunette grinned familiarly at Lucienne. "I know the last time we were here, we barely had a chance to speak, but… I have heard so much about you, Lucienne. Morpheus told me incredible stories."
Lucienne beamed back, mirroring the compassion. "It is a pleasure to formally meet you, too."
The two started a slow walk down the stacks, attempting to locate the Dream Lord, who was still nowhere to be discovered. She figured she'd take the time to get acquainted with Lucienne.
"Morpheus told me you remained when all the other Dreams left. That's so admirable," Elara heartfeltly expressed. "He told me about how much he appreciated all you did during that time and how important you are."
Lucienne straightened the cuff of her collar, appearing a bit bashful at Elara's statement. "He said that?"
Elara nodded, her brown hair dusting in front of her shoulders.
"He really has changed, then."
The brunette cocked her head as they continued down the hallway of the library. She rather enjoyed being with Lucienne; weirdly, it felt like she already knew her. Elara realized that she probably interacted with many inhabitants of The Dreaming without even knowing – the unknown companions humanity harbored in a world of dreams. The ones you forget as your eyes open but know within your heart and sleeping mind.
Lucienne was a different breed altogether, though – she was overwhelmingly thoughtful, had a sharp sense of humor and responsibility, and selfishly was the key to understanding who Morpheus was before they had met.
"Was he different? Before?" Elara questioned openly, "I didn't know him."
Lucienne lingered for a moment, her eyes sweeping around the stacks before settling on Elara. "Lord Morpheus was always a superb ruler, and still is, but he has… softened since his return. He is more open to listening to us, willing to bend his rules for our happiness, and his subjects are beginning to love him, not simply follow him."
Elara's lips curled. "I'm glad he eventually noticed that he has a pair of functioning ears."
The Librarian shrugged. "He always listened, but I think what changed is that he began to care about what he was hearing. We finally feel like we have a voice."
Lucienne's comment made Elara feel as light as air. Morpheus was evolving right before her, and it was magnificent to think she was able to witness how the changes made him a more decisive, considerate, and forthright King.
"Elara," Lucienne articulated, snapping Elara out of her mind's drifting thoughts. Lucienne had paused in her tracks, and Elara heeded suit. Elara's vision passed over the captivating dream: her bright white smile, perfectly tailored suit, and charming demeanor. Dream really did create marvelous individuals who had the ability to develop and learn. He was as much a brilliant architect as a monarch, and Lucienne was a testament to that. Elara might have to take a lesson or two from the Creator of Dreams.
The Librarian's lips tugged into a smile. "I want to let you know that I truly believe you played a part in Lord Morpheus' transformation."
Elara's brows reactively furrowed. "Why do you think that?"
Lucienne puffed a knowing smile. "Because all of the places he has created since his return, generally speaking, are reflections of you."
Elara's mouth parted, and disbelief misted behind her complexion. Her brows scrunched deeper when she shook her head – because Morpheus clearly didn't reconstruct the entire Dreaming in her image… did he?
She almost had a chance to respond to Lucienne, but Morpheus plowed out of a nearby stack with three books in hand. The expression on his face was that of night itself, complete with simmering fury and darkness. She could almost feel the black rage crackling off his form as he swiftly approached them.
"My Lord," Lucienne formally greeted, seizing the books from his grasp.
Morpheus stared straight at Elara, and the vehemence he held in her gaze was as heavy as the Earth – she felt that weight crush her chest. He began, "There are 278 living Jason Lancasters, and these three currently reside within London. One is 87, one is 38, and the last is 6 years of age."
"Well, he is not 87 and not 6," Elara commented, regarding the apprehension twisting in her stomach.
Lucienne grabbed the book that was of 38-year-old Jason Lancaster, handing over the text to Elara to examine. The brunette took the book and gently flipped open the cover. Her eyes narrowed at a picture of Jason Lancaster, 38 years old, on the title page.
She didn't need to scan the image for more than a breath to confirm the truth.
Her bottom lip instantly quivered, and her heart pounded, evoking fear to unfurl and band around her stomach. The knot that sat heavy in her belly sprouted painful, whipping vines, lashing her stomach lining, and forcing her to clench every muscle in her body. Around her neck, a sickening heat pricked at her fine hairs, skating along her jawline until she felt overwhelmingly hot.
"This isn't him," Elara whispered, the air departing her lungs. This man had olive-toned skin, fluffy dark brown hair, and perfectly-matched bright green eyes.
Lucienne took the book from Elara's trembling hands. Her legs nearly gave out as she asked, "What does this mean?"
She regarded Morpheus, whose glare was goading the pit to continually unfold in her abdomen.
Morpheus glowered threateningly. "It means your Jason Lancaster is not who he says he is."
Elara's hysteria scattered through her chest like wildfire at the actualization of his statement. Her hand came up to seal her mouth, stifling the abrupt gasp that wretched through her throat. Her body instinctively knew that something was amiss with her coworker, and she denied it repeatedly, always putting trust first. Her very human flaw – unfailing trust – that constantly put her in harm's way.
And yet, her gut was correct. Jason Lancaster was lying about who he was.
But if he wasn't Jason… then who was he?
Can we get a "hell yeah" for movement on Jason? Can I also get a "Can Morpheus pick me up from work too?" because that is a total dream.
We are finally entering the last arc of the story. Some smut to come, lots of conflict, and then we are straight on to the end.
I will do my best to update every 2 weeks, but until the end of March, things are a bitttt hectic on my side! After March, all chapters will resume the normal posting schedule. I appreciate your understanding because, you know, life :)
Please review, fav, or follow if you've made it this far into my little world! I promise the rest of the ride is worth it!