Page 88 of Bleed with Me

“He won’t hurt her,” I mumbled, tearing my hair out. The pain exploded on my nape, waking me up from my reverie. Somehow, I stood before the mirror in my bathroom, looking at my pale expression.

Are you sure? The voice mocked, echoing in my mind like a curse. He’ll snap her in half for hurting you.

I blinked, the darkness reflecting behind my irises startling me. It hadn’t been there for years.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled, gripping the sink. My fingers itched to cause some harm to my body, to make that sickening voice disappear. Only pain ever helped me silence it.

Why? Because I’m telling the truth? The loud laughter almost cracked my skull.

My hands pressed against the sides of my head, and a groan slipped past my lips. The volume increased rapidly, the maniacal chortling resonating through my brain with the power to split it in half.

Glimpsing my face, contorted with pain, I grasped the nearest thing, the shaving machine, and slammed it in the middle of the mirror. It broke, but didn’t shut the demon up.

“Get. LOST!” I punched again, with much more force than before, and it shattered into pieces, falling onto the counter and into the sink.

The laughter stopped as if someone flipped the switch. All I could hear was my ragged breathing and buzzing in my ears. The voice was gone, the darkness from my eyes vanished, and the pain evaporated as if nothing had happened.

“Dorian?”

I flinched, my heart nearly giving out. For a second, I thought my sick brain imagined it, but then I heard it again.

“Dorian, are you okay?”

Slowly, I turned toward the door, my gaze settling on my wife. The gentle light illuminated the black leather outfit hugging her body. A white Venetian mask covered her face, showing only her plump, dark-painted lips and the gorgeous, glowing brown eyes I would instantly die for. A bow rested in her gloved hand, a quiver slung across her back, as if she had just stepped out of a war.

My pulse spiked at the sight of her. Still, it had to be an illusion, my brain's desperate attempt to protect me from reality. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Dorian!” Her strong voice felt like a screwdriver into my temple. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I didn’t answer, didn’t move, didn’t think. I just stared at her, waiting for the illusion to crack.

“Hey!” She waved with the bow right in front of my face. “Say something!”

I grasped her wrist instead of talking. The leather was cold under my fingers, her arm solid and real, too real to be my imagination playing tricks on me.

“Dorian—”

“You’re here,” I cut her off, my voice rough and laced with relief. She was okay, safe, with me.

“Obviously,” she deadpanned, scanning me cautiously. “What happened?”

She pointed behind me at the smashed mirror, but I was too engrossed in her presence to care about explaining.

“You broke in,” I whispered, my tight hold on her wrist loosening a little, but I refused to let her go.

“Surprised?” she teased, yet her gaze lacked any playfulness.

“Impressed.” I flashed her my signature sexy grin. “It’s a twelve-story, heavily guarded building.”

“Yeah, I can do that in my sleep,” she retorted, freeing her arm from my hold. “This, on the other hand,” she refused to ignore the argument with the impersonation of my deepest fears, “isn’t you. You’re always in control.” Her fingers cupped my chin. “Something went to shit. What?”

“Nothing.” I lost myself for a moment in those mesmerizing eyes, but she was determined to get an answer.

“Don’t bullshit me, Dorian.” The warning in her voice made my smile widen, but at the same time, the invisible ropes of her natural dominance wrapped around the lingering chaos in my mind, magically soothing it. A soft, barely audible exhale slipped from my throat, and my shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Have you realized we’ve never kissed properly?” I whispered, staring at her defined, plump lips. “You’re my wife, and I—”

“Are you high?” she cut me off, expecting my face from all sides, drawing a chuckle from me. She sounded concerned. It was adorable how someone who stuck a loaded gun into my ass could be worried about my head.