Shimmering light presses against my closed eyelids and a slight breeze carries with it the warmth I've been craving for the past year. Birds chirp to announce the wake of a new day. This is how it used to be.

Before the darkness.

Before the terror.

Before the cold.

I sigh. Silk sheets, soft and intimate, press against my cheek. When I inhale, a hint of lavender fills my nostrils. I'm scared to move, scared to wake up, scared to destroy the illusion. Whatever Carter did to transport me into this vivid dream, I'm not ready to let go.

"Good morning, sleepy head."

My eyes fly wide open and I gasp. There, in the doorway without the slightest worry in the world, stands Carter, face beaming. His features brim with life.

"What is this?" The raspy words hurt my throat.

His forehead wrinkles. "What do you mean?"

"This." I wave my arms. "What did you do?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

He steps fully into the room and I register a tray in his hands. A plate stacked with pancakes and strawberries, a large, steaming cup, a vase with a single white rose.

He looks down on the tray. "I made you breakfast."

"How?" And why is he not in prison? I pinch myself hard, no longer in the mood to be trapped by this hallucination.

With a smile, he sets the tray on the nightstand and lowers himself on the bed. "I know this might come as a shock, but I do know how to cook." Leaning closer, he pecks my forehead. "And since it's Litha today, what a better time to spoil my wife a little."

Wife!

"Emh, Carter, it's okay if we wake—"

A knock on the door cuts my sentence short.

"Is it safe?" a young voice asks.

Carter chuckles. "Yes, you can come in."

A boy of maybe seven or eight peeks around the door. His red hair is just a shade darker than Carter's, but the mischievous green eyes are identical to his. "Can I go and meet Faolán at the waterfall?"

"As long as you are back this afternoon and help me gather wood for the bonfire."

"Sure thing."

"And Zach, didn't you forget something?" Carter's chin points at me.

"Oh, sorry. Good morning, Mom, and happy Litha."

I gulp.

Mom!!

Digging my nails into my arm, I fail to wake up. The boy disappears before I can quiz him about this new turn of events.

This can't be real!

Carter gets to his feet. "I let you enjoy your breakfast. And maybe afterward"—he wiggles his brows—"we could take a shower together."

No freaking way. "Make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

"This. The hallucination."

"I'm honestly not sure what you are on about this morning, but the world will look better once you had your favorite pancakes and your tea." He leans down and kisses my cheek. "Later, babes." As he walks out, my gaze is glued to his back.

What the heck is going on?

The amazing smell of the food proves distracting and my stomach growls. I haven't had pancakes in forever, so I might as well take advantage of this weird situation. Digging in, I'm not disappointed. The pancakes are fluffy and melt on my tongue; the fresh strawberries add a slight sour tinge and tease long-forgotten tastebuds. The liquid in the steaming cup turns out to be peppermint tea and Carter sweetened it perfectly with honey. This is a breakfast I've missed since the world plunged into darkness.

As I scrape the plate clean, I take a moment to inspect the room. Wooden paneled walls with colorful paintings that look as if drawn by a child, a wooden floor covered in front of the bed by a cream, woolen rug, and a small table perched in a corner that is littered with an array of jewelry and hair ties. Minimalistic but cozy and far removed from the hyper-modern apartment with the chrome and leather furniture and the black and white color scheme I've called home ever since Carter and I broke up.

I set the plate back on the tray and roll out of bed. The rug is rough under my feet but also provides warmth. Walking over to the window, I pull the powder blue curtains aside. The light is blinding. For a breath, I close my eyes and relish the sensation of sun on bare skin.

Hot.

Bright.

Exquisite.

My heart aches. I missed daylight so much.

Taking the deepest breath, I soak up the scents of the humming air. Freshly cut grass, the sweet, nectar-like aroma of honeysuckle, the remains of petrichor. Insects buzz. When I open my eyes, the serene and idyllic picture of the surrounding forest clashes with the cold, horrific hike to the prison. The walk feels like only minutes ago; now, I'm in this blissful version of a world I don't recognize.

Venturing out of the room, I explore the rest of the house. The living room is as minimalistic as the bedroom; the only furniture is an overstuffed couch and a coffee table facing the open fireplace and a bookshelf covering an entire wall. The kitchen is beyond cozy with an old-fashioned iron-cast stove and a cute dining set right in front of a sun-flooded window. Loud thumbs from the outside draw me out on the porch. My breath hitches in my throat.

Carter is out in the yard, chopping wood, in nothing but shorts and sandals. Sweat glistens on his golden-tanned skin; when he lifts the axe, the muscles tighten in his broad chest and lean stomach. Heat blossoms in my groin. When we were together, he used to work out and was quite fit, but this version of him is downright hot. Drool forms at the corners of my mouth. I wouldn't mind taking a shower after all and making love under the pelting water.

I clear my throat in the hopes he won't hear the friskiness in my voice. "Carter."

When he turns his head, the rambunctious spark in his eyes releases fragments of the terrifying memories that are stuck in my mind. The darkness that eats everything in its path, the stench of blood as shapeshifters tear into their victims, the feral fear which has turned into a constant companion. I sway and clutch the porch rail for balance.

Carter's smile fades; he drops the axe and closes the gap between us in few long strides. "Harper, what's wrong?"

I wipe my face; the skin under my fingertips is cold and clammy, A sudden sickness is so overwhelming that I gag. "Something happen to me and I need your help to figure out what it is."