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“Aria is special, and her spells are almost too much for her.” I glance at Archer. “We decided to separate when we were teenagers. Granny trusted her care with friends. My parents don’t know the extent of what she can do, but if they somehow found out, they’ll do everything they can to find her.” I frown. “What changed? Why do they care now?”

“Who knows,” Mateo snorts. “They use everyone around them.”

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Four,” Lace says.

“What are you thinking?” Archer asks.

“I could warn her.” I hold up my hand as Mateo opens his mouth. “When I sleep. I could go to her in her dreams.”

“You’ve been doing that?” Mateo asks.

“Yes. What? Did you think I would go years without seeing her?” I snark.

“I wasn’t aware you could.” He frowns.

“I didn’t share,” I say, and I sense his hurt.

“How does it work?” Rome asks.

I look at Mara, and she turns her head slightly. She didn’t tell Rome everything I could do. We're protective of each other and don’t reveal our spells. Since I haven’t known him long, I didn’t give my permission to tell him.

“I can dream-walk.”

He glances sharply at Archer. “How?” he asks me, but stares at my bond.

“I can enter anyone’s dream, change it, and communicate.” Aria has been the only person I've sought out while sleeping. We have developed a bond that can’t be broken by distance. I could be anywhere in the world and find her in her sleep. We have spent hours through the night catching up, speaking in our subconscious.

“You can change it,” Rome says slowly.

“Yes.” I look between him and Archer. There's more I don’t know. I’m an important part of Archer's magic. I don’t want to push him, yet I'll need to be informed soon.

“Is anyone hungry?” Mateo asks, rubbing his stomach.

I tilt my head, and he winks at me. He’s rescuing the men. He sees more than he lets people believe, and it’s his way of forgiving me for keeping things from him.

“Starving,” Lace says.

“Let’s eat,” Mara adds. “The store is closed anyway. Savy?”

“We can pick something up and go to my place.” I turn to face Archer.

“They know where you live?” He lifts his chin.

“Yes.”

“Get food,” he commands. “We’re riding the bike.” He pulls me around them, sliding his helmet off the counter on the way. Opening the door, he waits until I step outside before following and reclaiming my hand. “Put your address on my phone.” He hands it to me, and I struggle to enter it on the map with one hand.

Handing it back, I walk beside him in silence to the side of the building. We stop next to a motorcycle, and I stare at the pretty black bike.

“This is yours?” I ask, trailing a finger over the little seat on the back.

“Yeah, have you ridden before?”

“No.”

“Glad I could be your first.” His lip tilts up, and he lifts the helmet. “You can wear mine for now. I have more at home.” He pushes it on my head.