That night, Elena dreamed again. She stood in a vast hall of black stone, lit by a thousand red candles. Darius sat upon a throne, his eyes glowing.
"You came," he murmured, his voice like velvet.
Elena wanted to run, but her feet carried her closer. Her heart thundered.
Darius rose, tall and graceful, his hand reaching for hers. "You cannot fight me, child. Your blood knows mine. Your soul knows mine."
When his fingers brushed her cheek, fire spread through her. His face was inches from hers, his lips curving with hunger and longing.
"Let me show you eternity," he whispered.
And then his lips touched hers.
The kiss was not cold. It was fire, deep and endless, pulling her into him, drowning her in desire. She gasped, her body trembling, her heart breaking with forbidden need.
"Elena!"
The dream shattered. She woke to find Lucian shaking her awake, his golden eyes wide with fear. "You were calling his name," he said. "You were lost in him."
Elena's lips still burned from the dream. She turned away, ashamed. She had kissed the darkness, and part of her had wanted it.