AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m so close now. We’re so close.
“Poppy.”
Strong arms from above. They lift me up, just as the last floorboard falls from underneath me.
No.
No,I want to scream,I’m going the wrong way. Put me down. Down, down, down into the flames below.
“Hold on, kid.” The voice is so familiar but it’s nothis.There are no more floorboards left, but I’m soaring, not falling. Moving towards the small door, encased in strong arms. “You just gotta hold on for me.”
The flames sizzle and fizzle and settle into nothing more than a bed of embers.
He’s not there.
“It’s gonna be okay, kid. It’s gonna be okay.”
Poppy
From dangling above the fiery pits of Hell to heaven’s waiting room.
Well, maybe.
When the rhythmic beeping grows louder, I open my eyes. I’m in a bedroom. It’s light and breezy and white, with a window at the bottom of the bed that frames the sparkling sea. Boats, lazy and serene, float across it like they have no place they need to be.
I’m tempted to close my eyes and bask in the calm. But I’ve been here before. Nothere,in this room, but in this situation. Waking up in an unknown bed, head groggy and heart-thumping faster than I can make sense of.
“You’re awake.”
I chase the voice to an armchair in the corner.
Lorcan.
He rises to his feet and crosses the cream carpet in half a second, sliding his cold hands into mine.
“You’re…” I croak.
Here. Alive.
Heartbreakinglyhandsome.
He silences me with a delicate kiss on my lips. “Shh,” he mutters, stroking my forehead. Those eyes—those goddamn eyes—they sparkle like citrine whirlpools as he studies me with the intensity that I’ve come to crave.
That I thought I’d never be the subject of again.
“Rest, my China Doll,” he murmurs, his warm mouth a beautiful contrast to his cool touch. “You’re safe now. Go back to sleep, everything is okay, I promise.”
The pillow is soft and so is his hand wrapped in mine.
Lorcan Quinn claimed me. Stole me. Betrayed me. Yet when he tells me everything is going to be okay, I melt faster than butter on a warm day.
And I let go.
Lorcan
I pace the oak floorboards of the study, from the bookcase to the desk and back again, only stopping myself when Antoin’s hard face pops into my head.
The bastard always paced.
