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The nightmare returned like it did every time she slept. Thousands and thousands of words she’d spoken aloud over the last week, but none of them had been about the man who hurt her. She wondered if it was better or worse that she had never known his name. The nightmare version of him was a shadow of who he had been; the details somehow faded.
It was her own actions that remained so clear.
“They’re watching, Alina,” the man grunted in her ear as he hurt her. “Let them hear how good you can take it, and I won’t let them touch you.” So often other men watched what he did to her. Before he’d died, he’d mentioned his sons coming for her. Perhaps they had been among the men, wanting to see her beg to be hurt.
“P-please. M-more.” She forced out a moan after the words, one that sounded more and more hollow to her ears as sobs filled it. It wouldn’t be enough, had never been enough. Her body froze, which let his movement rock it back and forth across the mattress as she wished for the loneliness of the cabin.
She’d thought being lonely was the worst.
“Not good enough,” came the voice, just as she knew it would say.
Her head tilted back, and she projected a louder moan as tears ran toward her scalp. Like it had in her prior dreams, the path they took felt almost like a caress. The pain faded as silence returned. Emptiness filled her instead, so much better than the other.
Her eyes opened to find Luka sleeping beside her. The morning light from the window bathed his thin, strong face, tracing over the features that were as familiar as breathing to her now.
She wanted to touch him to prove he was there, but she knew better.
His fingers were loosely wrapped around her wrist, slack in sleep. Often their hands would be parted by morning, but not this time. Maybe because he’d returned so late, but it didn’t matter what time it had been. He was there.
She rotated her hand, wishing the long sleeve wasn’t there so his fingers would brush over bare skin. His warmth filtered through the material when his grip tightened on her, stilling her motion.
Her gaze flew up to meet his, so close.
“Good morning,” she said when really she wanted to thank him over and over again.
He’d come back.
Joy filled her, chasing every other emotion away. It was warm and soft and led to a giddiness that swept over her.
She leaned forward, pressing her lips softly against his.
Luka jerked back, falling off the bed.
Shame filled her at what she had done, then panic. “Oh no! Your stomach!” She scrambled off the other side of the bed, but he was already up, his speed taking him to the doorway.
He was skilled at blending with the shadows. He could disappear so easily, and now, because of her mistake, he would do it forever.
Alina sank to her knees as her legs gave out. “P-Please!” Her arms wrapped around herself as she realized she was begging again. Just as she had in her dream. Her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t go,” she said. The words weren’t forced and false. As tears filled her eyes, she realized it was what she feared the most in that moment.
Through them, she saw Luka freeze just beyond the bedroom doorway. His hand reached out, gripping the doorjamb tightly. Then he backed inside, turning to press against the wall before sliding down to sit.
He stared between his knees at his ungloved hands, which were shaking slightly. “I can’t.” The words were barely audible.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Alina swallowed as she sat where she was. “I never thought I would—” But the words sounded wrong. Like she was making excuses. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
His face wasn’t the blank mask she was used to. Panic skittered in his downcast eyes, and she hated herself for it.
She’d promised more than once that she wouldn’t touch him, but she kept breaking that promise. She shouldn’t want to touch anyone, but the way her lips still tingled from such brief contact with Luka underscored that she did.
Alina laid her head on her knees and let the tears fall.
Chapter 19
Luka fought against the instinct that was telling him to flee. Not because he was in pain. The butterfly-light caress of her lips had sent a swift flash of heat below his stomach. He broke the contact before his erection could form, but disgust at the idea still roiled inside him.
His hands fisted between his legs as he listened to her apologize. Her face was splotchy and wet and completely opposite of how it had been when he’d woken.
Luka had thought her small, genuine smile destroyed him. When he’d opened his eyes, her lips had spread wide, her eyes had danced with joy, and she’d been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His hand had tightened around her wrist in a need to hold on to her. To keep her.
