Morpheus's sudden warp startled Arabella. One blink, and he was already at her front. She barely managed to raise her arm in defense, their clash sending a pulse of energy that rippled through the air. His hand shot forward, aiming straight for her throat, pure anger driving each strike.
Arabella twisted away, her boots scraping against the invisible water beneath her feet as she dodged, again and again. A strand of her hair lifted with the movement— and something brushed the back of her neck. Instinct kicked in. She jerked aside just in time to see a hand sweep through the space where her head had been.
But that shouldn't have been possible. Morpheus was still in front of her.
When she turned, she saw another arm— his arm —emerging from behind her. Her eyes widened. He hadn't multiplied his limbs, nor bent the laws of nature to grow another. No, something far stranger was at play.
