*(Halia's POV – R18)*
I knew I was dreaming.
The moment my bare feet touched the moss-soft forest floor, warm and humming like it was alive, I knew. But it didn't feel fake. It didn't feel like something my mind made up. It felt ancient. Like it had waited for me.
The trees whispered in a language I didn't understand. The air shimmered, thick with jasmine and something darker. Wilder. Moonlight poured from above, but the moon was wrong—too large, too red, like it was watching me.
Then I saw him.
A silhouette stood ahead. Broad shoulders. Bare chest glistening with dew or sweat. His skin was golden-brown, kissed by shadows, and though I couldn't see his face, his presence pulled me like gravity.
He didn't move. But I did.
Each step toward him made my heart race harder. My breath hitched as I neared. It was like my body remembered him, even though my mind screamed that this was impossible. I didn't *know* him—but I *needed* him. Every inch of me buzzed with a hunger I couldn't explain.
"You came," he said, voice deep, velvet and smoke.
My lips parted. "Do I... know you?"
"Not yet. But you will."
His hand lifted and brushed against my jaw.
Electricity. Pure, white-hot. My knees nearly gave out.
Then his lips crashed against mine, and I shattered.
I melted into him.
The kiss was slow at first. Reverent. Then it turned desperate. Deep. His mouth claimed me like he was starved for me. My fingers tangled in his thick, midnight hair as heat bloomed between my thighs. He tasted like rain and something burnt and forbidden.
When he lifted me into his arms, I didn't protest. My nightgown slipped off like it was never meant to stay. His body pressed against mine—hard muscle, taut control barely holding back something primal.
"You're mine," he whispered against my throat. "You've always been mine."
He laid me down on a bed of glowing moss, the world spinning above us. His lips trailed fire along my collarbone, my chest, my stomach. Each kiss, each stroke of his tongue, made me arch off the earth. My moans echoed through the dream like a prayer.
And then—his mouth moved lower.
God.
His tongue slid between my thighs, slow and knowing. I cried out, shameless. He devoured me like worship, like sin, like he wanted to imprint his name in my blood.
I came undone, stars exploding behind my eyes. But he didn't stop. He moved above me, lining his hips with mine.
"Say it," he groaned.
"Say what?"
"That you remember."
He pushed inside me.
And the world collapsed.
Pain. Pleasure. Heat.
My body pulsed around him, stretched and filled. We moved together, a rhythm older than language. Each thrust tore a piece of me open and filled it with something new. Something ancient. My name didn't feel like *Rory* anymore.
He leaned close. His breath tickled my ear.
"Halia."
Wait.
I stiffened.
That name—
I never told him that.
The dream cracked.
He stilled, burying himself deep inside me. "You'll remember soon. You'll come back."
His lips brushed my temple.
"The Gate will open."
Then his form turned to smoke. The forest dimmed. The moon disappeared.
Darkness swallowed me.
---
### Reality
I woke gasping.
The sheets were twisted around my legs. My heart slammed against my ribs, sweat clinging to my skin. I blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness of my room.
Silence. Stillness.
But I could *feel* him. Like his presence lingered. Like part of him was still inside me.
My thighs were sticky.
I reached down, slowly. Shaking.
Wet.
But not just that.
Blood.
I stared at my fingers.
Red.
I threw the covers back. My sheets were stained. Panic knifed through me.
Was it a dream?
It *had* to be. I was a virgin. I *was.*
But then... why did it feel so *real?*
I stood on trembling legs and stumbled to the mirror. My reflection looked foreign. Eyes too bright. Lips swollen. Skin flushed.
"Halia," I whispered.
The name tasted right. Like it belonged to me.
"Who are you?" I asked the girl in the glass.
But the girl didn't answer.
The girl only stared back.
And in her eyes...
I saw the stranger.
I saw the moon.
And I wasn't sure I wanted to wake up.