Do NOT blush, do NOT blush, do NOT blush.
I repeat the mantra as I skirt around him and lay on my back. Sin looks like an angry god looming over me.
“So, what now?” I ask in a way that I really hope conveys no sexual innuendo.
I didn’t think my smut addiction would ever come back to bite me in the ass. But now that I’m having many more close encounters with dark, brooding men, everything has become an opportunity to think about sex.
I have no regrets.
Sin pulls the chair next to the bed and sits so he’s next to the headboard. I prefer him sitting. He almost looks relaxed this way – if I scrunch my eyes just right.
He leans forward, and his face is only inches from mine. The smell of woodsmoke is almost overpoweringnow, with him and his blanket this close. I purse my lips, waiting for him to do something.
“I’ll start breaking the barrier down slowly. So that your memories don’t flood your brain all at once. I’m going to put you to sleep to make it easier for your subconscious to process the information.”
My heart rate picks up at the thought of being asleep with Sin here. But the panic ebbs when I remember that I was unconscious when he first brought me here, and he didn’t try anything. Besides, the man is clearly disgusted with my existence.
Sin leans in closer, his hands settling on either side of my head. His lips are so close to mine, it would take less than a flinch, and we’d be kissing.
Don’t think about it, Vivian.
Sin’s voice comes as a low growl, “And mortal, the next time you enter my room, you’d better be prepared not to leave it again until I’m finished with you.”
I only have a chance to gasp before his voice comes again.
“Sleep.”
And then the darkness takes hold of me.
Chapter 11
Rule eleven:Repress, repress, repress.
When I wake, I’m relieved to find there isn’t another person in my head, trying to co-lease my body. Instead, it’s still just my own depressed inner voice, reminding me that this wasn’t all just a dream and my life is still a dumpster fire.
At this point, I think I am well beyond trying not to fall off the depression wagon. After learning about my corrupted bond with Leon, the wagon has exploded, and I’m in free fall.
I hate to think of what will happen when I hit the ground.
Being pulled into a new fantasy world has done terrible things for my mental health.
I stretch, wincing at the full-body pain. Between daring escape attempts and training with Damien, my physical health isn’tthriving either.
As for emotional health… I’m not even going there.
It’s another bright and sunny day in the Shadow Realm, and I’m officially calling the realm’s name out on false advertising. Even without Damien coming to collect me for our morning run – again, I didn’t sleep in too late. The rays shine directly onto my pillow.
Sweat coats my body, letting me know I had a fitful sleep. I feel gross. But at least Sin left my room at some point. I’ll take that as a win.
Hobbling out of bed, I beeline for the washroom. I will never take hot water for granted again. The water hits me, and I let out a moan of pure ecstasy before closing my eyes to relax under the spray.
In theory, relaxing in the shower seems like a reasonable expectation. It would be great if my brain could let me have such luxuries. But of course, as soon as my eyes close, I get assaulted by flashbacks from Cassandra’s life.
I’m only a few summers old when a man visits the Moon Goddess temple. He takes me away to join the Guardians, a secret religious organization. I don’t want to go. He doesn’t care.
A bright flash and I’m older, running through a forest. My feet are bare, and I’m covered in bruises. Men are chasing us. If we are caught, we are killed. They weed out the weak, so I must be strong. I haven’t slept in two days.
Another flash, and I’m a teenager. Older men writhe against me, using me. Desensitizing me to sex so I can use my body to accomplish my missions.
