“Dreams?” The similarity between us knocks the wind from my lungs. “You dreamed of me? You are the one yelling my name?”
He takes a moment, pondering thoughts in his own head. He places one hand on my cheek, the other moving into my hair. My breath hitches at the touch as he pulls my face closer, our lips nearly touching.
“I’ve dreamed of you almost every night for five years. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw you. Standing in blood, surrounded by ruin. I would scream your name until my own voice grew hoarse—trying to save and protect you—but I failed every time. It was like you couldn’t hear me. I would wake exhausted and desperate to find this woman I called to nightly. When I heard the news of a competition of deadly trials to win the heartof Daramveer’s Princess, Briar Blackbyrne, my world stopped moving. I knew it was you, and I’d travel across any ocean, put myself through hell, and die trying to save you. However, I’ve never been able to figure out how I knew your name in my dreams. Something connects us. It’s as if the Gods whispered it to me, pushing me to find you, to help you.”
That’s how I know him. Why he’s so familiar. I’ve heard him cry my name for years. I lean closer and breathe him in. Silas. The one I’ve also been desperate to find for so long—the man who wakes me from my darkest nightmares.
Our mouths collide as I grab the back of his neck. His kiss is deep, almost feral, as if he’s longed for this moment for ages. A shock moves between my legs as the need for him grows. I deepen the kiss—my desperation taking over—our teeth clashing as I move closer to him, inviting our bodies to touch. He groans into my mouth, his hand becoming tangled in my hair. He slowly lays me back, making sure not to break our deep connection. Returning the desperate feeling of needing to be touched, he moves his large body over mine. I can feel him hard over me as my hands reach down, curious about what lies beneath his clothes. Impressive.
Desperate for more friction, I grind my hips against his body, a moan leaving my mouth. “Silas.” His hands begin to explore my body. Trailing down closer to my middle and back up, grasping my full breasts under my thin shirt.
“You are beautiful.”
He moves to my neck, his tongue licking every inch of my sensitive skin. He continues to move his mouth lower as his hands release my breasts and move to the waist of my pants, pulling them down. The cool cave air hits my skin, and a fire burns between my trembling legs.
“Oh Gods. Silas!” I moan.
He moves between my thighs and pauses, looking up at me. “You will be my only God, Briar. I will happily praise and bow to you. Say the word and I’m yours.”
My vision blurs at his touch so close to my center, my body burning for more of him. His tongue sweeps around my most sensitive area before he looks up at me again as if savoring this moment, his piercing eyes looking at me. His fingers plunge into my wetness as my back arches off the cold floor, the only thing keeping me from bursting into flames. He pumps his soaked fingers in and out as his head lowers once more, his tongue joining in. I run my fingers through his dark hair, my moan echoing through the cave. Pleasure clouds my vision as he places one hand over my stomach, keeping me still so he can better devour me. I hear a muffled laugh come from him as I know he’s enjoying my spasms.
“Silas!” I rasp.
I open my eyes to enjoy the sight of him before me. I could live in this moment for a lifetime. I watch him work, my prince drinking in my wetness like his thirst for me can never be quenched.
Tipping my head back, an explosion of electricity moves through my body as the release I was desperate for claims me. A cry escapes my throat as I arch my back, moving my center closer to his face, praying he doesn’t stop. His fingers continue to pump in and out of me, his rhythm quickening, as my core continues to clench around him.
“Fuck! You are magnificent.”
“Don’t stop,” I beg, clawing against the stone floor.
“Such a greedy girl.” He smiles against my center.
Getting up, he flips me onto my stomach, his pants falling to the ground with a thud. The cold stone against my thin shirt makes me gasp, my breasts aching for more of his touch. His hands dig into my hips, likely causing bruises, but the sensationof pain mixed with pleasure almost sends me over the edge again. My breathing hitches as I anticipate what’s to come. Him.
A loud bang startles us from the opening of the cave. “Shit!” Silas yells. “What the hell was that?”
Before we can exchange a look, Oak’s scream in the distance tells us all we need to know. The wards must have failed.
“Run!” I say, quickly dressing. Silas does the same.
He bounds toward me, grabbing my face. “I have many things planned for you, Princess. Next time, there will be no distractions.” He smashes his lips into mine, and for a moment, the others don’t matter. A smile forms at the corners of my mouth as Silas slaps my ass, sprinting to the mouth of the cave toward the noise.
Chapter 26
We round the final corner, the noises growing louder. “We should have never left Rohhit and Oak,” I whisper.
Silas squeezes my hand in response. “I’d say it was worth it but you care for them—I won’t let anything happen to them.”
Peering around the rock, I spot Thatcher and Bardot standing with weapons drawn, clearly catching Rohhit and Oak off guard. Thatcher holds a bow with an arrow locked into position, his typically strong arms now trembling under the pull of the weapon. Bardot holds spikes, ready to throw.
Rohhit lies on the ground, propped on his elbows, still unsure of what’s happening. I’m relieved to see him conscious, color returning to his face. Oak stands between them, a sword drawn, no fear in his gentle eyes. One of my axes lies beside him, and panic floods me—if Thatcher notices it, he’ll know I’m here.
It hits me that Silas doesn’t have a weapon. I whip my head in his direction to ask, but before I can speak, he lunges around the corner, shadows rippling off his incredibly toned body.
“Ah, Prince, I’m so glad you could join us. I was just getting ready to finish the job. You all are starting to be a pain in my ass,” Thatcher sneers. His eyes flick to Rohhit. “Such a shame you had to be looped in with them. We had big plans for you.” His gaze lands on the ritual residue beside Rohhit, and a wicked grin forms on his face.
“Fuck off, Thatcher,” Rohhit rasps, using all the strength he has.
