The nightmare came two nights later, loud enough that Silveria heard it clearly through the wall separating their two carefully separate wings of the enormous house. She found herself out of bed and already moving toward his room before she had properly, consciously decided to go at all.
His door was unlocked. She slipped quietly inside to find him thrashing violently against the sheets, caught firmly in the grip of something that had him gasping desperately for breath, his face twisted with visible pain even in the depths of sleep.
"Damien," she said, hurrying to his bedside. "Damien, wake up. It's just a dream."
His eyes flew open suddenly, wild and completely unfocused, still half caught somewhere in whatever terrible memory had gripped him so tightly. For a long, frightening second, he didn't seem to properly recognize where he actually was.
"It's okay," she said quickly, keeping her voice low and steady. "You're okay. You're here, in your own room. You're safe now."
