PROLOGUE.
devour.

  Clara Ives does not dream.

  She is 27 now and has not dreamt in 7 years. Being 20 was meant to be fun. She had just moved out of her parents home, frantic with the prospect of freedom. Of staying out late until her legs gave out.

  Her first night in the city, Clara had went out to every club. Every bar. Every after-party. It wasn't the alcohol she was chasing, it was the people. The overwhelming, the overstimulating.

  Clara wonders if maybe one of those wild companions (the ones she'd swept into the night with) had stolen her dreams.

Perhaps the girl who had stuck too close, trailing her like a ghost. But, she was too young. Too naive. That girl had puked four times before they'd gone to the second location. Sent home in a taxi by Clara.

It could have been the man lurking in the alleyway, who had reached out as she passed, stumbling on her way to the next club. He told her she was beautiful. Like a painting. He must have been half-blind, because though Clara was beautiful, he had missed her arm by four steps.

There was only one other person Clara met the night of her 20th birthday, the only likely culprit. Clara had tripped into her apartment, falling over boxes and trinkets on her way to the bathroom. It was her first time drinking alone, of course she would puke. Such an amateur as she was.

She later passed out in the living room, on the only available surface; her sofa. The sun was rising and she slept, skin sticking to the leathery material of her love-seat. Her dreams seemed to crash against each other, like waves.

First, she was in a garden. The sun was too bright. It made Clara's head spin. She sat on the grass, body resting against a tree. The shade was bliss. Wind whistling through the grass, it felt like paradise. Perhaps it was.

Momentarily, Clara wondered if she died.

It didn't seem likely. She'd vomited enough not to choke in her sleep, but this dream seemed too real. The kind of dream she would get before a storm. Before a decision. Before a birth— or a death.

"Clara."

There was a gentle caress against her cheek. The touch was cold, in a way that was refreshing. Like drinking water. She could devour a lake of this touch, if it meant that it stayed forever.

Clara opened her eyes. The tree was no longer there, no longer lending its support. In it's place there was a body, lean and soft as it curled over her. Not hard or resilient. Not a tree, but a man.

He was staring down at her. Black eyes, glittering with the reflection of light. His hair was black too, soaking in sunlight. Tufts of it stuck out at odd ends. He was very beautiful, but very odd in his appearance.

"Marry me, Clara," he whispered and he smelled of pine and citrus. Scents she didn't know she loved, until then.

"What's your name?" Was all she could ask.

"You will have it, if you say yes."

Clara smiled, wild with her amusement. "No," she said, "Only a fool would give herself away in dreams."

  He sneered, vicious and angry. "Only a fool would reject my offer," he seethed.

  Clara rose a brow, still rested against his chest. "I know much of this land and I have ventured here often. It gives us warnings and kindness. I know better than to let you steal from me openly."

  He was confused, lips parted, brow furrowed. "What warnings did the land give you?"

  Clara touched his brow, smoothing it's creases. "They told me you would come, that you would steal something from me. You are pretty, but I can't marry you."

  He frowned, "And if I tried to change your mind?"

  "Well, you could certainly try," she told him.  Clara didn't mind the prospect of visitors. Dreams could be strange without companions.

  Her mother often accompanied her, but she'd visited rarely since her death. Now, Clara was mostly alone, wandering this land without her teacher.

  "I will come to you three times. Only three," he said. His voice was deep, soothing. Like a lullaby.

  "And if I say no each time?"

  "Then, Clara," he leaned closer, hovering above as his lips pressed to her forehead. "I will indeed steal something from you."

  And then she woke.