bedside. Try as she might, she couldn't pick out any distinguishing features aside from tall, lanky forms and long, flowing hair. At first she blamed her inability to clearly see the men on the darkness of the room, but it didn't take long until Silvana realized they had no real substance.
Inexplicably, they were the shadows. Deeper, denser than the surrounding air, their forms rippled in and out of existence like airy flutters of thickening darkness. Their voices, when they spoke, were labored, as though they struggled to maintain their earthly forms.
"You know what's at stake here. You must be able to draw enough sexual energy through this man to keep our hungers fed. You're certain you can do that?"
Silvana thought it was the man on the right who'd spoken. His undulating form appeared agitated.
"I know my duty, Illian. Trust me. When I possess this man, he'll be powerless to stop my dream invasion. Together, we will intrude upon the sleep of others like him. Men and women sexually starved for attention. Needy, feeble minds desperate for release."
Silvana's pulse roared in her ears. Dizziness swept the edges of her mind. Is that why this had been happening to her? Because she was needy, feeble, and sex starved?
The last part wasn't entirely her fault. As a dragon who couldn't maintain her human form during orgasm, her choices of a partner were limited at best. She was stuck with other dragons—dragons like those her mother set her up with. And she'd never wanted to fuck any of them.
Until Paul. And even then, she knew he was simply a substitute for the man she really wanted. A stand-in. Was that fair to Paul? To Rafael?
To her?
She shook her head, forcing the murky thoughts aside. She needed to pay attention to this dream. Something told her this was no random fantasy anymore, but that she had somehow stumbled upon something that held even more significance. Like a past event, or a memory.
"You will make your incubus brothers proud, Fariel,” Illian said. “We will await your first successful dream infiltration."
His companion sighed. “I miss the good old days. It wasn't that long ago when mortals believed in our powers. Do you remember when infiltrating their dreams was simply a matter of knocking on the spiritual door? Back then, they always let us in. Now, we're forced to possess a human spirit, body, and mind, like ordinary parasites. The dream realm is no longer our playground. Mortals are stronger now. More resilient to supernatural manipulation."
"And yet we've found a way to survive. We adapt.” Illian raised his hand, and Silvana thought it was to clap Fariel on his ethereal back. “We always have before."
Fariel straightened his drooping shoulders. “You're right, of course. Tell our brothers to expect me tomorrow night."
Illian gave a sharp nod. “Of course. Is it too much to hope for that we may begin tonight?"
"I'll do my best, but I can make no promises. I need to learn this man's dream landscape first. Figure out his fantasies. If I can draw him to the dreams of those he would naturally find attractive, the sexual energy generated will be that much more powerful."
"And you're sure he'll be unable to dislodge your influence from his mind?"
Fariel laughed, a low, eerie chuckle that made the skin at the back of Silvana's neck pinch into gooseflesh. “Even if he learns of my existence, this man will be unable to take part in the necessary act of sexual purification to expel me."
"You're certain of that?"
"Why do you think I chose him? He's a stockbroker consumed by his work. When he's not at the office, he's either at the gym, or here at home. It's been over twenty-four months since he could claim an encounter with a sexual partner other than his right hand. Do you really believe he'll magically stumble upon a ménage involving a man, a woman, and the sacred ingredient required to concoct an incubus cocktail?"
Illian ran a hand through his hair. “You win, Fariel. He might get lucky