Shadow.
They were together in his bed, and the two of them were naked. Fueled by unbridled passion and hunger, their bodies became tangled in the sheets as he took her the way he’d always imagined.
Over and over, he drove himself deep into her core. She was hot and wet and staring up at him with those incredible eyes, and all he could think was that he was finally home.
But then something changed, and her expression turned from wild abandon to one filled with fear. And when she opened her mouth, it wasn’t his name she cried out. Instead, he heard her shouting for?—
“Help!”
Slade’s eyes flew open, and he threw off the covers, shooting straight up in his bed. His chest heaved with heavy pants, just as it had been doing in his dream, and his dick was so full and hard the damn thing physically ached.
What the hell was that?
He ran a hand through his already-mussed hair while his sleep-ridden mind worked to figure out what exactly had woken him. When the answer came seconds later, it sent his heart racing and his hand reaching for his gun.
“Please…help!”
Shadow!
Her echoing scream had him leaping from his bed, gun in hand as he raced from his bedroom into the hall. With his weapon held tightly in his grip, he kept it up and at the ready. His bare feet covered the wooden floor separating his room from hers in the span of a few terrifying seconds.
Slade didn’t go slow or even consider using stealth as he burst through the door and into the room. His pulse raced, and his trigger finger slid into place, ready to take out anyone daring to come after the woman he was protecting.
But a quick and efficient sweep of the shadowed room—as well as the connected bathroom—he realized there was no intruder. There was only…
Shadow.
She was lying in the middle of the bed, her body thrashing about beneath the thick bedding. He lowered the gun and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he willed his heartbeat back into a normal rhythm.
With the knowledge that no one had broken in with the intent to do harm came clarity. And as Slade made his way toward the bed, he finally understood what was really going on.
She’s having a nightmare.
His heart ached at the sight of Shadow’s tortured expression and the distressing sounds she was making. Unlike before, he couldn’t quite make out her pleading mumbles, but their message was crystal clear.
She was stuck in a terrifying dream of her own mind’s making. One that he suspected was more a memory from her past, rather than a fictional dream.
He went to the bed, unwilling to let the heartbreaking scene continue on his watch. With his free hand, he carefully reached out, placing his palm on her blanket-covered thigh.
“Shadow,” Slade whispered as her leg shifted beneath his gentle touch.
Her eyes remained closed as she shook her head against her pillow with a whimpering, “No.”
Several strands of her long, blonde hair became strewn across her grimacing face. Not seeing any signs that she was close to waking up, he used a little more force and nudged her again.
“Shadow,” he said her name more curtly in the hopes that she’d hear him.
When the struggle against a monster only she could see continued, Slade put his pistol on her nightstand and ended her suffering once and for all.
“Dammit, Shadow!” He yelled that time. “Wake the hell up!”
With his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a stern shake.
Her eyes flew open, but it wasn’t his face that she was seeing. Slade knew this because, rather than shake off the remnants of what had been an obviously awful dream, she immediately began to fight.
Son of a…
Slade lifted his arms in front of his face to defend it from her flailing hands. The sound of her palms slapping against his skin echoed, and she got in a few good hits before he literally got the upper hand.
