I’m naked.
He’s bleeding.
There’s cookie dough on the counter.
My nightmare is in my kitchen.
My dog stands to his right, tail wagging.
He’s real, he’s bleeding, and the room is getting darker.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Ada’s terrified eyes soften as she looks between my mask, the mess I’ve made on the kitchen counter that I was really hoping to have cleaned up before she woke up, and the blood dripping from the knife trapped between our hands.
For a split second, I think she’s relaxing. That she understands what I’m saying and accepts what’s going on. Her grip on the knife goes slack, and I smile at her in encouragement.
Then her eyes roll back and her body goes limp, crumpling so fast that I’m unable to catch her in time to keep her temple from smacking against the edge of the counter.
“Shit!” I gasp, the knife clattering to the ground as I lunge forward to stop her from falling all the way to the floor and hurting herself further.
She lets out a low groan as my arms wrap around her, cradling her as I lower both of us down, but her eyes stay shut. I bring my hand up to her cheek, wincing at the sting of the deep cut in my palm from where I grabbed the blade and at how I’ve smeared blood on her.
My panic flares as flashes of all the dreams where it was Ada’s blood decorating her delicate skin as my claws brutalized her flood my mind. It’s too similar. Too horrific. Sheshould never be covered in blood like this. She shouldn’t actually get hurt.
Henry breaks through my dark thoughts, his snout snuffling at Ada’s cheek like he’s checking on her too, licking her blood-splattered skin before I can stop him.
He makes a face like he just ate something rancid, and I nudge him away with my shoulder. “I know, I’m sorry,” I murmur apologetically to the dog, who lets out a low whine and nudges his head under his owner’s limp hand.
Eyes burning with tears I’m unable to shed, I reach out and snag a hand towel that’s draped over the oven handle, using it to clean my blood off her face as best I can, and then turning it into a makeshift bandage for my bleeding palm.
“It’s okay, Princess,” I murmur, stroking her blood-smeared cheek, as much to reassure myself and Henry as her, considering she’s passed out and can’t hear me. “I’ll make this okay.”
My heart hammers so loudly in my ears that it’s hard to think of what to do. I keep stroking her cheek with my non-injured hand, then her dark hair, brushing it off of where it’s fallen over her face.
She’s naked, and under any other circumstances my blood would be heating at how her bare, sinfully plush flesh feels against me, but all it does now is highlight how delicate andvulnerableshe is.
She shouldn’t be out here in this cabin all alone, naked and defenseless, for anyone who wanted to bother her. I test my hand under the towel, hissing at the flare of pain when I move it.
Not completely defenseless. Though I doubt she’d have been able to wield that knife against anyone who wished her harm. When I saw the flash of the sharp metal, I didn’t think about anything but neutralizing it so she wouldn’t hurt herself.
So much for that. Now I’m bleeding everywhere, and shestill managed to hit her head and get injured. Fuck, I don’t even know how bad her injury is. Head trauma is bad, right?
My fingertips brush as gently as possible against the spot where a bruise is already blooming, and her face scrunches as she groans.
Henry lets out a low whine at the sound of her pain, attempting to lick the injured spot with his wet tongue, but I grab his collar and tug him back. He huffs at me like I’m keeping him from doing his duty, and that pulls a soft, hoarse laugh from me.
“I know, buddy. I’m trying to help her. I don’t think dog slobber is going to make it better, but you’re a very good boy.”
His tail thumps at my words. The buzzer on the oven goes off, letting me know it’s done preheating.
“Dammit,” I curse, letting out another frustrated huff of laughter as the absurdity of this situation hits me. All I wanted to do was bake her some of her favorite cookies, and somehow I’ve ended up with her naked and passed out in my lap with a head wound.
I release a heavy sigh. “Okay, we can do this. Yes, this was a big setback, but at least she knows I’m real now. Right, buddy?”
Henry’s tail thumps again at my laughter, his sweet eyes meeting mine inquisitively. I still don’t understand why he trusts me and isn’t trying to rip my throat out now that I’m bleeding and Ada is unconscious, but I won’t complain. With a groan, I stand up from the floor, keeping Ada in my arms, then head to her bedroom, careful not to bump her head against the door jamb.
