Page 141 of Lured By Shadows

And Ira would wake alone and frightened and confused. Vulnerable in the aftermath of something that had nearly shattered her. I would not abandon her to that darkness while I indulged myself.

I slipped carefully into the bed beside her. The mattress shifted faintly beneath my weight, and the proximity of her nearly undid me all over again. She stirred softly, a fragile sound escaping her lips, and it sent a violent shiver racing beneath my skin. My hand found her waist instinctively, gentle enough to soothe but selfish in its purpose. I needed to feel her. Needed the undeniable proof that she remained here with me. Where she was alive, breathing, and safe.

My nose brushed the curve of her neck, and Gods, that nearly destroyed what little restraint I had left. The warmth of her skin and the slow pulse beneath it wrapped around my senses instantly, dragging something feral to the surface.

She smelled divine.

Her blood moved beneath her skin in slow, intoxicating pulses, a song only I could hear, winding itself around my senses until it became unbearable. My fangs throbbed painfully against my gums. The beast inside me clawed upward with desperate hunger, screaming to mark her, to sink my teeth into her throat and bind her to me in a way that could never be undone. One bite. One irreversible moment, and she would belong to me beyond death itself.

I did not take it. Barely.

Instead, I pressed my face against her throat and trembled beneath the sheer brutality of my restraint. Her warmth seeped into me slowly, grounding something monstrous clawing at the edges of my control. Her breathing steadied mine. I drew her closer against my chest, not out of hunger, but devotion so consuming it bordered on madness. Relief and guilt twisted together inside me until I could no longer separate them from the devastating truth pressing down on me.

She had become my greatest weakness. And my greatest violence.

She murmured something incoherent in her sleep, and the sound hollowed me out completely. If I had been capable of sleeping, I would have fallen into it there beside her, wrapped inside the rhythm of her heartbeat and the soft warmth of her breath against my skin.

Mine.

Always mine.

And I would slaughter them all for touching her.

35

The sensation was wrong before it even made sense. A strange, hot-cold heat wrapped around my limbs like silk pulled too tight, clinging and suffocating all at once. My eyes snapped open with a breathless gasp that tore out of my chest. For a second, I didn’t know where I was. The world spun slowly, thick and distorted, as though I’d surfaced too fast from deep water. My vision swam, dark shapes melting together, until my focus caught and I found myself staring into the one face I knew too well.

Culver.

He hovered close… so close I could feel the quiet space he occupied, the charged stillness he always carried. His face rested in a soft in-between state, not fully asleep, not fully awake, his expression smooth and unguarded in a way I almost never saw. Whatever calculation he usually wore like armor was gone, washed clean by rest. He looked younger like this. Like the surface of water before it rippled.

My fingers lifted without asking me first, drawn by instinct instead of logic. They trembled slightly as I touched his cheek, the cool smoothness of his skin grounding me even as it made my chest tighten. He was real enough to feel, solid beneath my fingertips, and that alone made my pulse jump erratically.

It had to be a dream. It just had to be, because nothing about this made sense after everything I’d messed up. And especially not after what Kiera had shoved in my face, the pictures of him and that woman. My throat tightened around the thought, but I forced my voice out anyway, rough and thin with exhaustion.

“Culv,” I whispered, the sound barely holding together. “Wake up, please.”

His eyes opened instantly, like my voice had pulled a trigger. No haze or confusion, just his emerald-green gaze locked onto mine with immediate focus. Before I could even process the relief that slammed into me, his arm wrapped around my body and hauled me in. I felt every inch of him, present in a way that made my stomach dip.

It wasn’t the first time I’d dreamed of him with this level of clarity, and I doubted it would be the last. He haunted my sleep the same way he haunted my waking thoughts, his presence etched into me.

“I bet you feel good,” I muttered, shifting beneath the covers as the heaviness pressed down on me. The sheets felt oppressive, clinging to my skin like I couldn’t get enough air. My body burned, every nerve humming too loudly, and his touch only made it worse. It was like ice so cold it burned. “Knowing that you’re playing me like a fool.”

“Never,” he murmured calmly, his hand sliding slowly down my arm.

I shuddered despite myself. It didn’t feel cold to me. It felt like ice left on skin too long, the kind that stings before it numbs.

“But you are,” I grumbled, tugging away from him with sluggish irritation, my thoughts slipping sideways. My muscles ached, heavy and weak, and my vision doubled for a second too long before I could blink it clear. Even throwing the covers off took effort, my limbs moving like they were pushing through honey. “I saw it. I saw her.”

“Ira, what are you speaking about?” he asked evenly, his tone careful and controlled, like someone trying not to spook a skittish animal. “Tell me, my little lamb.”

“I’m not your little lamb,” I snapped, twisting to glare at him as the room tilted in a slow, nauseating wave. “I saw a picture of you kissing another woman! I mean, shit! We just started dating, and you’re already cheating on me?”

His brows knit together, not with anger, but with something gentler, almost uncertain. It wasn’t what I wanted to see, and that alone made my chest ache. Still, he answered at once, as though hesitation might shatter me completely.

“Where did you see such a picture?” he breathed, pulling me back in without resistance, his fingers smoothing through my hair with cool strokes. “You are my Ira. And there is no one else. I vouch for this, and may the Gods strike me down if I am lying to you.”

I wasn’t convinced, not even close, because the fog in my head wrapped around everything too thickly to let any of his words really sink in. But God, I was so worn out in a bone-deep way that sleep couldn’t touch. I just let out a frustrated puff of air as I sagged against him, my whole body giving in like I was some kid throwing a tantrum but too tired to keep it up. My forehead found its way to his chest, where I breathed him in deep without meaning to. The smell of him, all minty cinnamon goodness. And even with the anger I was clinging to, it eased something tight inside me, just a little.