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Even though her hair is in braids, I can tell it’s thick and wild. She stares at me with her big blue eyes, and I lose myself for a moment. Her lovely face is calm. The magic she holds reaches out to me, eager to get to know mine. She holds herself with confidence, comfortable in her body and her power. Her clothes give me a sense of her personality. She seems like a woman who embraces life. I didn’t think I needed or wanted a soul bond, but being in her presence has made me reconsider.

“How old are you?” I ask. We can usually tell a magicked age by the strength of their power, yet if I judge hers, she rivals my years.

“Thirty-eight,” she says, smiling slightly.

I move to her side, easing onto the cushion. “Your magic is beyond your years.”

“I practice.” She lifts a shoulder. “Why is yours filled with pain?” She presses her palm against my chest. “There are massive amounts inside you, but it’s fiercely controlled. I can tell you're experienced.”

“I’m a hundred and fifty.” I grit my teeth. “I have to control it.” I can’t hide from her.

“Why so tightly?” she asks softly, tilting her head.

“If I let it out, people die,” I confess, and her eyes widen.

“Mmm…” She drags her hand down my chest and away. “I’ve heard that soul bonds can help stabilize each other's spells.”

“Yes, but I don’t think you can,” I say, even though I don’t know what her gifts are. What could counteract someone's worst fear?

“Don’t underestimate me.” She grins, and I stare at her mouth. “I don’t share with many people. Keeping my spells a secret is easier for me.”

“I understand.” Rome and his family are the only ones who know what I can do. If Rome told Mara and Lace, I couldn’t tell from their expressions. “I fear the reactions of others.” I move my gaze up.

“Are you going to ask?” She folds her hands in her lap.

“No, trust is difficult. It’s your choice,” I say, but I’m curious.

“I like the nickname you gave me.” She smirks, and I lift my brows. “My life has been wild, and I’ve worked hard to be in a place where I’m happy. I love being a witch, even through the challenges of my childhood.” She lifts her arms, rotating them as she looks at her tattoos. “My ink grounds me, and jewelry helps keep me in this world.”

“Where would you go without it?” I ask, never having heard magic described the way she did.

“Sometimes I can see the future. It’s always a puzzle I have to figure out. I predicted Rome coming here for Mara, yet I didn’t see you.” She lowers her arms. “I can’t force the predictions. They come, or they don’t. The skills of my spells are vast. The basics are easy for me. It has been a constant journey with my other gift. I've found that mixing gold into the ink and spelling it helps me the most.” She turns further to face me. “I'm a dream-walker.”

“What?” My heart thuds.

“I can walk through the dreams of any being, whether human, witch, warlock, or shifter. Vampires aren’t as easy, but it’s possible. If they're having a nightmare, I can change it. My spells can relieve them of the painful memories of life. I use different techniques to keep myself grounded. In the past, I've been at risk of getting lost in the dream world.” She flutters her fingers over her ink. “I don’t quite understand why, but metal is the key. It's heavier than ink and grounds me in the physical world so that I can wake up. I deploy spells every night before I sleep. Protection spells.”

“How can you sleep?” I ask roughly. The potential of what she can do is astounding.

“Many nights I couldn’t,” she whispers, leaning back, resting her head on the back of the couch. She stares toward the front of the store. “It took a long time to learn the intricacies of my magic. The more populated the area, the greater the number of dreams I could stumble into. It increases the risk of getting lost. Over time, I've learned to control it while I sleep. I can choose to ease others or not. Still, I’m careful. I've never slept more than six hours in a row.”

“Shit.” I rub my jaw, and she rolls her head, meeting my gaze.

“Don’t worry, I take naps.” She smiles. “I’m the queen of speed naps.” Her lips slowly relax. “It hasn't been a pleasant road to peace. Nothing worth having is easy. I bought a house at the edge of town, and it helps. I wish my neighbor would quit dreaming of his best friend's wife,” she snorts. “Do you know how hard it is to keep from blurting out the truth when I see them? I’ve thought about turning his dream into a nightmare.” She laughs, and I inhale sharply. “Archer?” She sits up and grabs my arm.

I exhale. “You can change their dreams. Bad or good?” I cannot seem to get enough air in my lungs. The possibility of her spells could change my world in ways I never thought possible.

“Yes, though I try to stay away from bad. Brad from next door tempts me to cross the line,” she says dryly.

“What are the effects?”

“On Brad?” she asks, and I nod. “Maybe he would realize what a sleaze he is, and stop dreaming of cheating on his wife. The most he would have in the morning is a headache.”

I hang my head, running my fingers through my hair. I freeze as she brushes her fingers over my jaw. Her touch is loving, and it’s been a long time since a woman who wasn’t family cared about my emotions.

I lift my head. “I don’t deploy my main spell much.” I slide my hand over hers, holding her hand to my face, hoping she can accept me.

“I can tell,” she says.