Malcolm’s touch was like a tidal wave, crashing over me and buffeting me about in a turbulent sea of emotions.

It overwhelmed me, consumed me, burned me to ash, and resurrected me.

I’d never felt anything like it, and my body’s response almost terrified me. I’d always liked sex, but I’d never felt such an insatiable, uncontrollable need before. Rational thought died an unceremonious death as a man I barely knew—scratch that, a vampire I barely knew—played my body like a finely tuned instrument, and instead of trying to stop him, I urged him on with everything I had.

I ached to feel his hands and lips all over my body and to explore every inch of his in return. It was torture feeling his hard cock grinding against me and not being able to touch it. I wanted to feel the heat of his naked body against mine. I wanted to feel him moving inside me, filling the desperate, indescribable emptiness in my soul I hadn’t even known existed until this moment.

I was incomplete, and he could make me whole.

Malcolm’s lips were firm and warm, and his sharp teeth sent a shiver of fear and lust through me as they scraped across my sensitized skin. My entire body felt electric, flushed, and almost numb from overstimulation. I couldn’t take this. It was too much. Too good.

Speech was impossible. Thought was impossible.

Nothing else existed in the world—only his hands, his mouth, his sharp breaths, and the scent of leather filling my nose.

Then something changed.

Being surrounded by Malcolm had felt almost like an out of body experience, but this was more than that. I truly was leaving my body.

As if my soul had suddenly become more dense than my flesh and blood, I felt myself begin to sink. I tried to call out, to grab onto him for support, but it was no use. I felt my body jerk, heard the hitch of my breath.

But the body that lay stiff and frozen beneath Malcolm was no longer mine.

I had no body.

Anchorless and heavy, my soul sank. Through the floor. Through the earth.

Into blackness.

The scrap of consciousness that remained of me screamed in panic and fear—a sound no one could hear.

Was I dreaming? Had I passed out from the intensity of sensations and emotions coursing through me? Or had I dreamed about my interlude with Malcolm too? Maybe none of this was real. Was this some aspect of being a vampire the brothers had forgotten to warn me about? Insane, hot hallucinations interrupted by soul crushing darkness?

I tried to cry out again, but I had no voice here. When I lifted a hand in front of me, I couldn’t see it. I wasn’t sure if that was because of the pure blackness surrounding me or because my hand just wasn’t there anymore.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the darkness cleared. I found myself floating under a dim night sky. The shift from sinking to floating made me dizzy, but my stomach didn’t lurch—mainly because it wasn’t there. I had no form that I could see.

Gray storm clouds hovered threateningly on the horizon, but the weather was calm for now. My attention fell to the sight below me.

An old, abandoned building sat in a clearing. Grass and weeds grew tall around it, and vines had started to creep up one side, crawling through the broken windows. The building was large, with a pointed roof and a large tower on one side near the back. A church, maybe?

Before I could take in more details of the structure, I was distracted by movement in the clearing.

Shades.

I hadn’t noticed them at first because their shadowy forms blended so well with the dark, starlit terrain. But there were several of them, drifting fitfully about. Malcolm had told me they’d lost track of the shades they were hunting in New York. Is this where they’d gone? Had there been this many in the city, or had others joined them?

The wind shifted, and the dark clouds rolled in, obscuring the stars. In the waning light, it was impossible to tell if one of the creatures below me was missing a limb. The shades didn’t appear to be aware of me floating above them. I tried to move, to drop lower over the crumbling ruin for a better look, but I couldn’t. Whatever force had brought me here was controlling all this, not me.

Then something new caught my eye. A figure walked among the shadow creatures.

I was too far way to see the person clearly. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, though the figure was smaller than the shades surrounding it. A cloak fell over the newcomer’s face, obscuring the features beneath. But whoever it was, they looked human—or at least, humanoid.

I strained to move forward; I needed so badly to get closer. The brothers would be so happy if I could give them some new information about this threat. Once they took care of the shades, once they figured out what the creatures wanted with me, maybe I could return to some semblance of a normal life.

But the more I struggled to direct my consciousness, to move toward the ruins, the farther away I seemed to float. Rain began to fall—fat, heavy drops that flew past me, through me. The scent of damp earth rose up to greet me, along with a hint of something else. Something floral and sweet. Jasmine?

The rain picked up, individual drops turning into sheets of water as thunder boomed and lightning lit up the sky. I was drifting away faster now, leaving the shades and the unknown figure behind. But for a brief moment, the newcomer’s head lifted toward the sky, and I caught a glimpse of pale white skin.

I wanted to stay, to see more, but there was nothing to hold onto. The ruins and the rain disappeared, and I was left floating in the black abyss again.

Damn it. Whatever I’d just seen had been important. If I’d been able to get closer, maybe I could’ve picked up some piece of useful information.

My abilities were failing me, just like they had in the training room with Malcolm. I screamed into the darkness again, frustration at being constantly out of my depth bursting out of me.

But the darkness didn’t care.

It swallowed up my scream and gave nothing back.

Rejoining my body wasn’t gentle or peaceful.

It was like riding a rollercoaster in the dark, unable to see the twists and turns coming but buffeted from all sides, tossed around like a rag doll.

Then my consciousness slammed back into solid flesh, and I woke with a jolt. I sat up, gasping.

I was on the large bed in my new room. For a second, my mind flashed back to the first time I’d woken in this house, and panic flooded my system. But my hands weren’t bound now. I wasn’t held captive.

My heartbeat slowed slightly with that realization as I blinked. Fog still hovered in my brain, and my body felt heavy and numb. What the hell had just happened? Had any of that been real?

A woman I didn’t recognize rushed to my side, fussing over me. “Ah, you’re awake! Not too fast, not too fast.”

She was older, with a weather-beaten face, silver hair, and bright purple eyes. Despite their odd color, they were warm and kind. But when she pressed on my shoulders, trying to force me back down, my panic resurfaced. Too many strange beings had attacked me in the last week, and my survival instincts kicked into high gear.

“No! Don’t touch me!” I slid away from her, scooting toward the other side of the mattress.

A warm hand caught my arm, and my head snapped up. Sol sat on the edge of the bed, his expression serious, his unseeing green eyes trained on my face. He slid his hand down and grasped my fingers gently, stroking his thumb over the back of my hand.

“Sol!” I gasped. My brain was scrambled mush, and his name seemed to be the only word I remembered. “Sol. I… Sol!”

“Shh, it’s all right. You have nothing to fear. You’re safe. We’ll always keep you safe.”

He pulled me into his arms, and I clung to him like a child, allowing his strength and stability to envelop me. He smelled amazing, warm and spicy, and the slow cadence of his heartbeat soothed my own.

As I regained my composure, my gaze slid over his shoulder to the older woman. She’d crossed around to this side of the bed and now stood behind him with her arms folded.

“Well, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she huffed. A Russian accent tinged her words, and she sounded slightly offended.

I pulled away from Sol. “No, you didn’t. I was just startled. Who… are you?”

“Willow, this lovely woman is Yuliya. She cooks for us, looks after our house, and keeps my brothers and me in line, don’t you, Yuliya?”

Sol’s voice was warm as he tipped his head over his shoulder toward her. Yuliya couldn’t hide her smile when he spoke. She clearly adored him, and I could see why. Even knowing what he was, even having seen him fight, there was something about Sol that made me feel completely protected. When he promised he would keep me safe, I believed him.

The woman laughed, her purple eyes twinkling. “Somebody must do it, eh? The three of you are barely home—and when you are, you make such a mess! Always broken furniture, holes in walls… dirty dishes.”

She poked Sol in the back when she said that last bit, making me suspect he was the worst offender in that area.

Huh. This gorgeous, supernaturally powerful man didn’t like doing dishes. I could definitely relate to that, but something about it still struck me as odd. The image of him padding through the kitchen and slipping an empty bowl into the sink was just so… so human.

As if he could read my thoughts, he chuckled. “I’m not a slob, I promise. Besides, we can’t all use magic to cook and clean like you can, Yuliya.”

Magic?

My brain balked at that word, so I let it float on by. I’d already seen more proof than I needed that the supernatural existed, so why not magic too? But I’d deal with processing that information later.

Yuliya poked him again. “True. True! Which is why you’re so lucky to have me.”

Sol chuckled. “Yuliya was away this past week visiting her coven in Russia. Now that she’s back, don’t hesitate to ask her if you need anything.”

“Yes! Anything you need. Clothes, food, something cleaned, something fixed—I do it all. Goodness, I’ve replaced all the furniture in this house by now. Twice!” She tsked through her teeth. “Boys. They break so many things.”

I was beginning to like the old woman. Something about her presence felt grounding, as if she made all of this more real somehow. She was so solid and down-to-earth, and the way she treated Sol made him seem less like a terrifying creature of the night and more like a regular, if extremely rich, guy. She certainly wasn’t afraid of him.

And Sol seemed genuinely attached to her. I trusted him as a judge of character. If he liked her, she must be a good person.

There was a knock on the bedroom door seconds before it opened. Malcolm strode into the room, followed closely by Jerrett. Their attention landed on me immediately, and they both pulled up short. Worried blue and brown gazes raked over my body, as if searching for injuries.

They’d been worried about me.

The realization cracked open a door in my heart, letting light fill the long-empty space.

“Willow.” Malcolm’s voice was low and rough.

Oh Jesus.

Heat rose in my face as memories flooded me, and I was positive my cheeks were flame red. What had happened between us hadn’t been a dream or a hallucination. As much as I might wish otherwise now, it’d been incredibly real. His searing kisses had seemed to steal a part of my soul, and his hands had been warm, calloused, and possessive.

His breath. His teeth on my skin, tearing through my bra and—

Embarrassment opened up a hole in my stomach, and I glanced down at myself. I wore a soft, long-sleeved shirt and stretchy gray pants.

They’d changed my clothes. Again.

That thought alone wasn’t nearly as humiliating as what they had changed me out of. Had Sol and Jerrett come downstairs and found me like that? Sprawled on the floor, my hair a mess, my shirt ripped open, and my bra shredded? Sol wouldn’t have been able to see me, but I had no doubt his other senses would’ve told him exactly what Malcolm and I had been doing. And that idea was somehow worse.

How did I let that happen?

One minute we’d been fighting, and the next, I’d been completely consumed by a man whose real name I didn’t even know.

I peeked up through my eyelashes. All three brothers were still watching me. Even with my focus glued to the bedspread in front of me, I could feel the weight of their gazes. Yuliya’s too.

“I think I had a vision,” I blurted.

What I’d seen in my dream felt important, but more than that, I needed to interrupt my current train of thought. If I lingered too long on what I’d done with Malcolm, of what his brothers might know, I’d devolve into a full-blown freak out.

Thank God, the vision had pulled me away. If it hadn’t, I was sure Malcolm and I would’ve…

Shoving away a fresh new wave of images and feelings, I forced myself to look up. “I saw something.”

“A vision?” Sol tilted his head.

I nodded, twisting a lock of hair around my fingers. “Yes. One minute I was… in my body. And then I sort of fell out of myself. I sank through the earth and floated in a black void. I couldn’t speak or smell or see. I was nothing.”

“Shit,” Jerrett murmured.

Sol shushed him and turned to me. “A black void. Go on.”

The intensity of his sightless stare made my skin prickle. If I’d thought the brothers might not believe me, that they’d laugh and call me crazy, I should’ve known better.

I was part of their world now. And things like this were real in their world.

Taking a deep breath, I continued.

“Then the blackness faded. I hovered in the sky. I don’t know if I was flying or floating, but none of it felt like it was under my control. I was just… there. I could see things below me, but I was too far away to make out everything.”

“What did you see?” Jerrett pushed his black hair out of his eyes.

Sol gave my hand a squeeze. It felt good to have his fingers interlinked with mine. Comforting. Strengthening.

“I saw an old building in a clearing. An abandoned church, I think. It was night, and there were—”

I broke off, suddenly afraid to speak it out loud. As if what I’d seen wasn’t a vision of what was but a premonition of what could be, and giving voice to it would make it real.

“There were what?”

A muscle in Malcolm’s jaw ticked. His expression was hard, but I couldn’t identify the emotion behind it.

“There were shades. Several of them. Six, maybe seven? I didn’t get an exact count; it was almost impossible to tell them from the surrounding shadows sometimes. They were in front of the church. I wanted to get closer, but I couldn’t do it.”

“You were stuck?” Sol asked.

“Yes! It was like I was suspended in space. I couldn’t move at all; there was nothing to grab onto. When I fought harder, I felt myself being pulled away, and I couldn’t fight against that either. The darkness sucked me back in.”

I paused, gathering my thoughts, trying to remember everything I’d seen. A pale face flashed in my mind.

“And there was someone with them. Someone who wasn’t one of them. The shades were all gathered around this person, but they didn’t attack it—like it was someone important.” I shook my head, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I tried to see more, but I couldn’t.”

The brothers were quiet for a moment. Yuliya’s sharp purple eyes darted from the three of them to me and back again. I shifted on the bed, uncomfortable with all the attention. I’d never had anyone listen to me so intently.

For as long as I could remember, I’d had strange, vivid dreams. I’d tried describing them to Kyle on occasion but gave up after watching his eyes glaze over from boredom one too many times.

This was more than just a dream. Whatever the vision had been, it meant something. It was important. Of course, these men would be interested in it. Still, it was strange to feel so… heard.

Picking at a loose thread in the comforter, I sighed. “I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where the church is or how I saw all that. But it felt real.”

“It was real. You have the Sight.” Sol’s voice was quiet, almost reverent. “An old gift. Most vampires don’t have it anymore. It’s more common in other supernaturals, but even then, it’s an incredibly rare thing.”

“So what does it mean? Why did I have this vision?”

“You’re connected to the shades somehow. Your spirit went searching for them.” Malcolm broke away from Jerrett to pace across the room, his back to us.

Was it my imagination, or was he avoiding my gaze now? Shit. Did he regret what had happened between us? Despite my own misgivings and embarrassment, that thought stabbed like a hot knife.

Jesus. I spent nine years feeling nothing, and now I feel too much. I can’t stop feeling.

I ripped my attention away from Malcolm’s tense shoulders and looked back at Sol. “Connected? How? What does that mean?”

Sol squeezed my hand one more time then let go, rising to his feet.

“Something is drawing your Sight to them. If you can learn to control your power, you won’t be helpless in your visions. You’ll be able to move your consciousness, to have agency. You won’t be able to interact with the things in your visions, no seer can do that. But if you can identify the shades’ location, that’s enough. You can help us track them.”

“And then what?”

His strange green eyes blazed. “Then we’ll hunt them down and kill them.”