The lad had no idea.
I wanted to love her. Loveonher.
For the rest of our?—
A scream shattered the stillness. I bolted upright. “Natasha!”
Adrenaline tore through me. My feet hit the marble like gunfire, slipping, skidding—didn’t matter. I ran. She was home plate, and this was game seven.
Another cry. Softer. More broken. I slowed into the living room, heart hammering.
Then I saw her—curled on the couch. Moonlight streamed over her clenched fists. Face contorted in fear. No attacker. No danger … outside of the confines of her mind.
The nightmare swallowed her whole.
I dropped to my knees beside her. “Shhh,” I whispered, brushing damp hair off her forehead.
Her soft skin was slick. Horrified and clammy. She flinched when I touched her—but then melted into it. A soft sigh. A dying whimper. Like my touch slayed her tears.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Go back to bed, Lach.
But my legs ignored me.
I did what my instincts screamed. I slipped behind her, slow and careful, and settled onto the couch. I’d stay. Lay next to her for a few minutes. No touching. Just present. I’d show her I would not leave, regardless of the money and sponsors.
As if Natasha recognized me, even asleep, she scooted closer. Tucked herself into my chest, and my arms slid around her.
Protect this woman. Never let her go. Stay. Always.
I’d never killed anyone. Prayed I never had to.
But I’d defend Natasha, no question. I’d become whatever the nightmare feared. Slay her dragons. Wait in her tower. Wait out the dark until the demons lost their grip.
Okay, yeah. I’d read too many princess books to my niece Carly. Of all of Camdyn’s wildweans, Carly had a softer side. To get to it?
Princess fairytale books.
But whatever. Natasha had dragons? I’d be her knight.
“I’m here, Tash,” I whispered, shifting my hips back. Yeah, the temptation was there. I was a man. And she was my dream woman. But tonight wasn’t focused on my unavoidable suffering. Tonight was about embracing her through the dark. About staying when it mattered most.
As she relaxed, my heartbeat slowed in time with hers.Just a few minutes, Lach.
Those minutes turned to hours. Those hours brought daylight.Sunlight illuminated the space, and I awoke in the middle of a chick fight. Flailing mess of limbs, arm swinging, nails clawing, like she was fighting off hell itself. An elbow slammed me under my rib.
I gasped, blinking. “Natasha … Natas?—”
14
NATASHA
Sleep paralysis.
Pure evil dropped onto my chest. The devil himself came to steal the breath from my lungs. Helpless. Frozen. Screaming inside while my body refused to move. Usually, after a time, my brain worked in overdrive to startle me into movement. The veil, a fog so deep, would lift. I’d jerk awake. Bite down on my tongue hard enough to stop the scream pressing up my throat. A scream I never let loose. Because crying out meant explaining. And if I explained, my parents’ pity would return.
So, I always remained quiet.
