Vyan froze, caught like a deer in headlights when Iyana uttered, "Stop."
He took a deep breath, mentally grasping for any excuse to explain why he was in her bedroom at this ridiculous hour. Slowly, he turned around and began, "Iyana, the thing is—"
"Stop, don't take him away from me," she murmured, her eyes closed and her face damp with cold sweat.
Relief washed over him first, but it was quickly replaced with concern. He crouched beside her bed, his expression softening.
"Nightmares again, huh?" he whispered, taking in her distressed face.
"Unlike me, you won't be able to go back to sleep if your nightmare wakes you up," he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
Placing a gentle hand on her forehead, he added with a hint of bitter sarcasm, "I can't fix my own mess, but I can try to fix yours." He cast a deep sleeping spell on her.
