She'd been having the dream for three weeks before she said anything.
Not a nightmare, exactly — nothing as simple as that, nothing she could describe to Kira in a way that would trigger an obvious clinical response. Just a recurring quality to her sleep, the same sense each time of standing at the edge of something vast and dark, the western corridor's unmapped territories spreading out beneath her the way she imagined Rowan must have felt it, that one accidental afternoon, except in the dream it never stopped. It just kept going, further and further, a held-breath feeling that had no edge she could find.
She woke from it the same way each time — sitting up fast, heart pounding, Darius's hand finding her shoulder before she'd even fully surfaced, the bond alerting him before her own voi
