Arik watched as Wink withdrew, then left him in the dream chamber to face the darkness alone.
Perhaps this was just punishment after all. A son of the god Morpheus, Arik had originally been one of the Oneroi. As was customary for such, he'd been assigned humans to watch over and protect against the Skoti who sometimes preyed on them. In those days, he'd spent his life monitoring his subjects, making sure the ones under his protection had normal dreams that would either help them work through their problems or inspire them.
Until that one fateful night.
He'd gone to help one of his assignments who was ill. Because of her sickness, her dreams had become extremely vivid and emotional-so much so that one of the Skoti had latched onto her. Such a thing was common and even tolerated. Skoti fed from human emotions, but so long as they kept it under control and didn't lead the dreams or interrupt the human's life, they were allowed to drain humans. It was only when the Skoti began to return repeatedly and took control of the host that they were punished.
Humans held fragile psyches. A returning Skotos could easily turn human minds and either drive them insane or make them homicidal. In the worst case, a Skotos could even kill the human, which was why the Oneroi monitored them. If a Skotos spent too long with their host, then it was the Oneroi's place to step in and drive them out.
If all else failed, the Oneroi would kill the Skotos.
At one time, Arik's life had been dedicated to protecting his humans. To feel nothing and to only follow the orders of the elite Oneroi. In his day, he'd vanquished numerous Skoti without understanding or caring why they sought humans the way they did. Why they felt a burning need to risk their lives for their quest.
And then one night... no, one encounter had changed that and brought with it a clarification that still resonated within him.
Born of a human mother and the dream god Phobetor, Solin lived on earth, but at night he ran amok in the dreams of other humans. Completely amoral, he didn't care what he did to others so long as he enjoyed himself.
For centuries, the Oneroi had been trying to stop and trap Solin. He was one of the few Skoti who'd warranted a death sentence. His voracious appetites and fighting skills were legendary among the Oneroi who'd been unfortunate enough to confront him.
And Arik had been one of them. Still young by their years, Arik had thought to take Solin on his own.
Most of the Skoti fled at the approach of an Oneroi. The Oneroi had full backing of the other gods to do whatever they had to do to control the Skoti. Since a Skotos could drain emotions from any human, they normally left without issue and didn't waste time fighting when they could simply move on to someone else.
But Solin was stronger than most. Bolder. Instead of fleeing as Arik had expected, Solin had turned the human loose on him. By their laws, Arik had been forbidden to hurt the human, and Solin had known it.
Arik had tried to pry her away without harm, but the moment her lips had touched his and he'd tasted her lust something inside him had shattered.
He'd felt pleasure and arousal for the first time in his life.
And when the human had dropped to her knees and taken him into her mouth, he'd known his war in this was lost and his conviction shattered. In one heartbeat, he'd gone Skoti.
He'd been Skoti ever since.
Drifting from one dream to the next, he'd been searching all these centuries for someone who could raise his emotions to the level of that first night. But no one had come close.
Not until Megeara.
Only she was able to reach through the emptiness inside him and make him see vivid colors again. To make him feel her emotions. After all these centuries, he finally understood why certain Skoti refused to leave their partners.
Why they were willing to risk death.
Because of Megeara, he wanted to know what the world looked like through her eyes. What it tasted like. Felt like. And her ability to pull herself away from him was starting to seriously piss him off.
But what could he do? Even if he went to earth to be near her, he couldn't really experience her or her environment.
He wanted her passion. Her life force.
There might be a way to touch her...
Arik paused at the thought. It was true that both the Oneroi and Skoti could take human form in the mortal realm, but because of their curse, they still lacked emotions. So what was the point? They were just as cold and sterile and unable to feel in human form as they were in their own god form.
That wasn't what he wanted.
No, he wanted to be human. He wanted feelings and emotions so that he could experience her to the fullest extent possible.
It's impossible.
Or was it? They were gods, with god powers. Why should such a thing be unattainable?
Your powers aren't capable of such. Zeus had made sure of that when he punished them for tampering with his dreams.
Then again, Arik's weren't. But there were others whose powers made a mockery of his. Gods who could make him human if they willed it.
Zeus would never concede such a thing-he hated the dream gods too much. His children would be too afraid of him to try. But his brothers...
They were a different matter entirely.
And Arik knew which one to barter with.
Hades. The god of the Underworld held no fear of anyone or anything. His powers were more than equal to any of the others', and best of all, he hated the other gods as much as they hated him. Because of that, Hades was always open to a good bargain, especially if such a bargain would irritate Zeus.
It was at least worth a shot.
With Megeara's niggling emotions retreating from him, Arik flew from the Vanishing Isle where most of the dream gods resided and descended down, straight into the heart of Hades' domain. It was dark as night here. Dismal. There were no ivory or gold halls like the ones found on Olympus. At least not until one visited the Elysian Fields, where good souls were sent to live out their eternity in paradise. Those lucky enough to attain residence there had any- and everything their hearts conceived of. They could even be reincarnated should they choose it.
But the Elysian Fields were only part of a much vaster realm. One that held nothing but misery for those who were damned to it. Especially this time of year. Three months ago the god's beloved wife, Persephone, had been sent to live with her mother in the upper realm. Until Persephone's return, Hades would be literally hell to deal with. From the moment she left until her return, he would spend his time torturing all those around him.
A saner god would wait to try to deal with Hades after Persephone's return, when he was more reasonable, but Arik was desperate. The last thing he wanted was to take a chance on another Skotos finding Megeara.
No, it was now or never.
Besides, Arik had never been a coward. He'd never once retreated from battle or conflict. It was what had made him one of the best of the Oneroi and what had made him one of the deadliest Skoti.
He always took what he wanted. Damned be the consequences. He had eternity to deal with those.
What mattered most was the present, and that was what he focused on. Always.
As he flew past Cerberus, the three-headed dog rose up to bark at him. Ignoring it, he dove down into the catacombs made of the skulls and bones of Hades' enemies. Many of whom had been Titans and ancients who'd had the misfortune of irritating the somber god-they didn't even warrant Hades torturing them for eternity. He'd relegated them to nothing more than decoration.
That alone should be a warning to Arik...
But the brave and the desperate never heeded such.
Arik slowed his flight as he entered the main chamber of Hades' domain. This was the only room in Hades' opulent palace that was open to outsiders... But there was a lot more to his home than this one room.
Arik knew that because no one was immune to the powers of a Dream-Hunter. No one. All gods were vulnerable whenever they rested, which was why they feared the Dream-Hunters so, and it was times such as those that Arik had ventured here to see what Hades kept so secret.
Now Arik faded to invisibility and rose up toward the black ceiling that glittered eerily in the dim light.
Hades sat below, alone, on his throne. Made of Titan bones, his black throne had been polished until it gleamed like steel. Hard and intimidating as the god had intended, it dominated the dais where it sat.
Beside it was a much smaller chair. One made of gold and cushioned with pillows the color of blood. It was where Persephone sat whenever she was home with her husband.