The world felt heavy and warm.
Jude blinked open his eyes slowly, his gaze adjusting to the soft light slipping in through the leafy canopy above. A few sunbeams filtered through the open window of his treehouse, dancing lazily across the wooden walls, casting green shadows that swayed with the breeze.
For a long moment, he just lay there, unmoving, his arms pinned beneath the two women curled on top of him, Grace to his left, with her cheek nestled into his chest, and Lucy sprawled over his right side, her soft hair tickling his neck. Their breathing was slow and steady, completely at peace.
Jude stared at the ceiling of woven leaves and wooden beams and exhaled.
It was just a dream.
That terrible, long, impossible dream.
He didn't remember all of it, just pieces. Blurred shapes and panicked feelings. Death. Monsters. Blood. Shadows behind the trees. The heat of the volcano. Screams. Loss. Lyla… Something about Lyla.
And then, nothing.
