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He visits her in her dreams: the Kain she remembers and loves, warm and gentle.

He’s not there when she’s conscious. The husk that looms over her is as cold as the alien metal she’s chained to. They thrum beside her with a magic that she can’t quite channel.

“I won’t run,” she promises softly as he checks her shackles. His eyes flick across her and she prays it’s a sign he still remembers.

His lips brush against hers and she shivers, the darkness controlling him too strong to manipulate. “Cecil will come.”

His thumb caresses her jaw. “I know.”