The walls shook as she woke, Kagome falling out of bed with a groan. Chest heaving, she grappled for purchase, finding the edge of her bed and pulling herself up to her knees.
She could still feel the webs on her hands, the rage coursing through her as she confronted him. The anger had felt so real, fingers still tingling with the need to attack—to harm. She looked down at her hands, turning them over as if they weren't even hers.
What had he done that had made her so mad? She'd initially wanted to keep him safe, to help, but he seemed to know more about whatever was out there than her. Didn't it make sense for her to let him take care of it?
And yet, it didn't. It hadn't made sense at all. The feeling of being left behind, of being useless, had gripped her to the point of wanting to tear into the pristine silk covering his shoulders—of wanting to make him understand that she wasn't some damsel in need of protecting.
Something had taken root beneath those feelings, something dark. But then the webs had been cut away, and the feeling had disappeared so quickly that it had left her reeling.
Breathless.
She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes until spots appeared, giving her something to focus on as she struggled for control, a deep sense of foreboding settling onto her shoulders.
There had to be more to the dreams than some desire-filled fantasy.