A/N I wanted to thank everyone who takes the time to leave a review. I read each and every one, and I truly appreciate them. I wish I had time to answer each one, but unfortunately, I cannot. I promise to get back into the habit of updating more frequently now that my life seems to be settling back down to its normal pace. Between working on my novel and common day to day issues, the past month has been a bit... hectic, to say the least. Again, thank you all for taking the time to read this story and for reviewing. Your words mean more to me than you'll ever know.

He followed them, first to the commons where Rose stared dismally at her surroundings, refusing to take even a single mouthful of food. When it became apparent that nothing could convince her to eat, Lissa took her by the hand, leading her across the campus to the Moroi dormitory.

He made himself comfortable, leaning against a tree, knowing that he might be waiting for quite a while. Almost without meaning to, he found himself falling into a dream—Rose's dream. He hadn't been attempting to dream walk, so he hovered in a pool of darkness, not a part of the dream, merely an observer, lurking on the outskirts. The dream played out in the center of the black space, like a television sitting in the center of a room.

This was somehow different—not the feeling he had when he consciously attempted to view another person's dreams. He didn't feel the thrum of spirit coursing through his veins, instead he only felt a strange, cold… emptiness. Stranger still, the hairs at the base of his neck stood on end, alerting him that something was wrong. He sensed the presence of another, lingering somewhere in the dark mists that swelled around him. His eyes made a continuous circuit, but there was no aura… nothing to indicate someone was hiding in the fog.

Rolling his shoulders in a futile attempt to lessen the tension in his body, he focused on the dream that was playing out before him, averting his eyes almost instantly. They were in the cabin, Belikov hovering over Rose, pressing his lips against hers as he sighed in contentment. Biting his lip, Adrian dared to glance back at the scene, hoping the worst was over—and it appeared that it was.

Rolling to his side, Belikov pulled Rose against his muscular chest, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Roza." He kissed her again, his eyes locked onto hers, his face filled with emotion. "I'll always be here for you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"And I won't let anything happen to you," she promised. "I love you." He kissed her again, swallowing off any other words she might have added.

The dark fog around him swelled, a strange, tense feeling permeating the air around him, making it feel heavy and thick, as if a thunderstorm were slowly rolling in. His mind felt… odd, as if something were prodding at it, the way it sometimes felt when Lissa was trying to get a grasp on dream walking and studying him intently. He forced himself to ignore it—now certainly wasn't the time to get lost in yet another vision, or God forbid another bout of insanity.

From the darkness he heard a voice call out, the mournful cry of a soul in pain. "Roza…"

Adrian's body reacted instantaneously; sweat broke out on his brow as he realized this wasn't Rose's dream. Well, not entirely. She was here—her subconscious was, at least—but somehow, Belikov was here too. Belikov… who was supposed to be dead, or worse yet, Strigoi.

Strigoi didn't dream—everyone knew that. You had to sleep in order to dream, and that was something their dead bodies did not require. So how, in God's name, was he here?

A sudden movement in the darkness jerked him out of his contemplation, making him realize he might be in an immensely dangerous situation. He had never tested the theory that if one died in sleep or vision, they would never waken, and he really didn't want to start experimenting now. If Belikov was a newly turned Strigoi, his subconscious would be functioning at a primitive level. A Royal Moroi—who also happened to be his enemy—would be an irresistible snack.

Closing his eyes tightly, he concentrated on returning to his body. He imagined the crisp air caressing his cheeks, and the feeling of the roughly textured tree bark against his palms. Ignoring the sound of footsteps approaching him, he struggled to focus on the smell of evergreen trees, and the solid ground he had been standing on before being pulled into this strange, in between place.

It worked.

He came back to himself at the same instant he'd felt movement directly in front of him in the fog. A few seconds later and it might have been too late. His body bucked, his head smacking into the tree, as if he had been asleep and dreaming of falling from some great distance, twitching awake a mere moment before he'd impacted with the ground. Sighing in relief, he glanced at his watch, stunned that thirty minutes had passed. It had seemed like he'd been there no more than a few minutes.

Movement at the entrance to the dormitory caught his eye, as the tall, pale form of Vasilisa exited the building. He watched her as she drew closer to the place where he'd concealed himself, his anger flaring to life at the small, self-satisfied smile on her beautiful face. Waiting until she was even with him, he darted out of the brush, reaching out and grabbing her arm.

"Cousin—" his voice practically dripped with the disdain he felt for her. "We need to talk."

She arched a pale eyebrow, glancing down at his hand as if offended he was touching her. "Where have you been? Rose is—"

"Don't pretend you care about Rose, Vasilisa." He cut her off, leaning his head down so he could stare directly into her jade green eyes. "If you did, you wouldn't have refused to help her."

"I… I have been helping her! I've been sitting with her, trying to calm her down." She looked confused at his angry words.

"You play the innocent so well. Almost as well as Natasha Ozera. Too bad your act won't work on me."

Her look of confusion shifted into one that was almost fearful. "Adrian, have you been drinking?"

"No 'I haven't been drinking'," he mocked her voice perfectly. "Do you know why I've abstained Vasilisa? Why I haven't had so much as a beer, even though I can feel the madness pressing down on me?" His grip on her arm tightened as she attempted to pull away. "Because I need to be sober if they bring Belikov's body back—not that I think that will happen. But on the off chance I'm wrong, someone needs to be able to save him. If you won't do it, I will."

Her lip curled. It was the slightest of movements, but he caught it. "You're not strong enough to bring someone back."

"Fuck you. I'll do it, even if it kills me."

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"Ridiculous? It's ridiculous to do the right thing? Since when?" His anger was apparent in his voice.

She bit her lip, looking away. "I didn't mean—"

"Why do I have the feeling there's more to this than meets the eye, Vasilisa? I heard the excuse you gave Rose, and it was complete bullshit. So tell me, what's the real reason you refuse to bring back the man your best friend loves?"

She glared at him. "I don't have to listen to this—not from you. Why don't you crawl back into whatever bottle you—"

His hand lashed out and he barely stopped himself in time. Another few inches and the Dragomir princess would have been sporting a lovely hand shaped red mark on her pale, perfect cheek. He glared at her, his green eyes snapping with barely contained fury.

"You selfish little bitch. I know the reason. I can see it in your aura. You're fucking jealous. For once in her life, Rose had something that was all hers. Not something you provided or that you bought for her. She had someone who loved her. Who put her first. Someone who took her attention away from you."

Lissa flinched. "That's not true. I would never stand in the way of Rose being happy."

"That, is a complete lie." He stared at her, the pieces slowly clicking together in his head. "Oh my God. You knew all this time. That's why you were questioning me. You suspected there was something between them. You were afraid she would chose him over you. Oh, Lissa…" He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. "How long? How long did you suspect it?"

Her voice was almost a whisper. "A little over a month after we were brought back, Rose got hurt. She was walking on a bench and the wood gave way, trapping her ankle. When she screamed… he was there in an instant. The look on his face when he realized she was hurt… unconscious... it was indescribable. He tore the bench apart with his bare hands to get her free, then carried her to the clinic and wouldn't leave her side. I healed her, then left room. Only I didn't really leave. I watched them—I didn't shut the door all the way. He held her hand, and kept running his fingers through her hair. They way he touched her…" Lissa shook her head. "After that, I made a point to watch them when they were around each other. It was hard, because I had to keep my thoughts hidden from Rose. But it was obvious."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?" She shot back, her eyes snapping with anger. "You knew. How the hell did you know, Adrian?"

"Their auras. And I overheard them arguing, at the resort." He sighed, loosening his grip on her arms.

"Their auras." She laughed. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

"That's why you kept encouraging me to be patient—to pursue her. You wanted her to date me because it would keep her away from him."

She didn't answer for a moment, studying the ground. "Yes. Them… their relationship, if they wanted to be together, they would have to leave. He'd take her away from me. With you… she'd always put me first. She wouldn't have to make a choice."

"You had no right to make that call. They loved each other Lissa. Really loved each other."

"Don't act all high and mighty, Adrian. You didn't want them together any more than I did."

"No, I didn't. But I wanted her to be happy, so I kept my fucking mouth shut and my feelings to myself. When they were together… The only other people I've seen with auras that act like theirs are soul mates, Lissa. Do you understand what that means?"

She glared at him. "I know what soul mates are Adrian."

"That's not what I meant. Do you know what will happen to her if he's dead?" He studied her face, waiting for her to comprehend his meaning. "She won't recover, Lissa. She'll never be our Rose again. A part of her—an important, vital part of her—will be missing."

"You don't know that for sure. You're making an assumption about her. Rose is strong. She'll be fine—"

"I know it. I feel it. If we don't do everything we can to—"

He broke off, feeling that strange pushing sensation in his head. As if someone were prodding at his mind, poking it from within.

"Ivashkov…"

Adrian's eyes widened in shock, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the ground, dragging Lissa with him. It was impossible. There was no way—

"The last Dragomir can bring back the dead. You can enter minds. Yet this is impossible?"

The voice was cold—emotionless—and harsh, exactly as it had been in his visions. "No—This can't…" He broke off, staring into Lissa's green eyes.

"Adrian? What is it? What are you seeing?" Her voice seemed to come from a million miles away, hazy and distant, nothing like the loud, clear voice in his head.

"Where is my Roza, Adrian? Tell her I need her. That I long for her to join me. Tell her I'll be waiting for her. And know that if you touch her, if you try to claim what is mine, I will end you in the most painful way imaginable. I will awaken you, then spend an eternity torturing you, over and over again, until you beg for the final death. She is mine and mine alone. Forever."

The sharp sting of Lissa's palm cracking across his face startled him, driving away the frightening voice that had somehow ensnared his mind.

"I'm sorry, I had to do that. You weren't breathing," she said

"Thanks… It… I can't hear him anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Hear who?"

His mouth was filled with the metallic taste of pure terror. "Belikov. He gave me a message to deliver to Rose." He laughed, and it was a crazy, bitter sounding bark. "You were right all along. I shouldn't have tested spirit out on him. That bridge thing you described… I can feel it, even now, like ice encasing my brain."

Her eyes widened. "He's alive?"

"No. He's…" He ran his hands through his hair. "Oh God—how am I supposed to tell Rose that the man she loves is a Strigoi? How… It will kill her, Liss."

"What was the message?"

He relayed it word for word, ignoring her gasp of dismay. Ignoring the way her aura flared with determination as he finished speaking. That was his undoing. He shouldn't have forgotten who he was dealing with, not for one single minute.

"Adrian—"

He looked directly at her, caught immediately in her gaze, falling into the depths of her eyes. For an instant, a memory flared to life and he struggled against the web her compulsion was weaving around his mind. The conversation they'd had at the ski resort echoed through him, and he knew what she was attempting.

"Okay. So. You don't see auras, and you don't talk to people in dreams. What do you do?"

"I … I can heal people. Animals. Plants, too. I can bring dead things back to life." Lissa offered.

"Really? Okay. You get credit for that. What else?"

"Um, I can use compulsion."

"We can all do that," he scoffed.

"No, I can really do it. It's not hard. I can make people do anything I want—even bad things."

"So can I. I wonder what would happen if you tried to use it on me…."

He bit his lip, feeling the sharp point of his canine tear into the soft, yielding flesh, hoping the pain would help him stay alert. "Lissa—don't do this. Please!"

"I have to Adrian." Her gaze never wavered and he could feel spirit lacing every word she uttered. "I have to protect Rose. You know she'll go to him, and I can't have that. She's meant to stay here. With me."

He wanted to fight her—to stop her from tampering with his mind, but it was futile. Her voice was so soothing… So soft and sweet… She was… right. She just wanted what was best for Rose. Her words cradled him, and in return, he accepted them as the gospel truth.

"You never heard Rose and I discussing Dimitri in the church. You and I never had a discussion about them. You will never tell Rose what Dimitri said, Adrian. In fact, you never heard his voice in your head at all. There is nothing linking the two of you together. Dimitri Belikov is gone. He's dead, isn't he, Adrian?"

"Yes…" His voice was slurred, as if he'd been drinking heavily.

"Good. You need a drink now. You're going to go to your room and drink until you pass out."

He shook his head, staring at her, wondering why they were sitting on the cold, slushy ground. "Cousin? What happened?"

"Spirit. You healed so many people today, Adrian—I think it's affecting you." Lissa's voice was full of concern.

Groaning, he stood, pulling her to her feet and embracing her. He was lucky that she was there to help him. "You're right. I need a drink."

"Go on. You deserve it. I have to find Christian. Can you make it to your room okay?"

He nodded. "Thanks cousin. If you see Rose, tell her I… tell her I'm sorry for her loss."

"I will."

He wandered towards his room, wondering why she had had such a strange, amused expression on her face. What he'd said had not been amusing in the slightest.

Kicking the door shut behind him, he winced as a sharp, painful throbbing started in his head. It felt like something was trying to fight its way out—a disturbing feeling he'd never experienced before. Dismissing it as a side effect of all the spirit he'd been channeling, he grabbed a vodka bottle and collapsed on the couch. As the first burning rush of liquid trickled down his throat he sent up a silent prayer that tonight he would black out, passing into the dreamless oblivion that so often evaded him.