I woke inside the dream.
Not drifting into it, not slowly slipping, but waking. As if I had opened my eyes in another world, one that was already watching me back. Awareness didn't dawn gently. It struck like lightning through the spine. One second I was nowhere, the next I was here, and here was not mine.
The room pulsed around me.
Not just seemed to pulse, was pulsing. Breathing. The walls were alive. Velvet, blood-red and veined with dark gold, they curved inward like the ribs of a sleeping beast. Not architecture. Anatomy. The place felt like it had teeth.
The air was thick,too warm, too close, perfumed with something not made for human lungs. Not flowers. No sweetness. It was darker than that. Older. It clung to my skin like sweat in a fever dream.
Sandalwood. Wet stone. Iron.
And underneath it all,her.
Sarassis.
I didn't see her at first. I felt her. A gravitational pull, an aching pressure behind my eyes. Her presence gathered in my chest before my eyes even found her. My skin prickled. My stomach clenched. The hairs on my arms rose in quiet reverence or fear, maybe both.
But this time, she was not alone.
There were three.
Sarassis sat in the center, half-throned, half-reclined on a thing that defied shape. It wasn't a chair. It wasn't a bed. It was alive, maybe. Bone and velvet and breath. Her legs were bare, crossed at the knee, one draped over the side like she was bored with the shape of gods. Her tail flicked lazily. Her eyes,golden, heavy-lidded, ancient,watched me like a cat watches a candle flame: curious, hungry.