“It was just a nightmare,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Except nightmares weren’t that real. Nightmares began to vanish once you woke up.
I realized I was crying when he brushed a tear from my cheek, his thumb impossibly soft. More tears followed, hot streaks down my face. I couldn’t stop them.
“Must’ve been one hell of a nightmare to make you wake like that.”
“I just…” I trailed off. I just what? I just thought I’d witnessed my final battle? I just felt like I was still there?
My nightmares had never been that real. And I had been plagued by vivid dreams all my life, although I normally only remembered flashes of them.
I realized I hadn’t spoken for a while, but Griff was patient, staring down at me. His eyes held so much concern—and another emotion I couldn’t name—that I had to look away. I noticed for the first time that his chest was bare and my mouth went dry. I’d known he was fit, but Erde be damned, did he have an ounce of fat on his stomach?
“How did you get in here anyway?” I asked, tearing my eyes awayfrom those abs that looked like stone. “I thought this room was warded for intrusion.”
He ran a hand over his scruff. “I thought so too. They must have been fainter today or something.” He looked at me, considering. As he went to stand, panic shot through me.
“No!” I cried without thinking, lunging forward and intuitively grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. The contact sent that familiar jolt through me, but more than that, it anchored me.
Instantly, he sat, alarm in his eyes at my desperate cry. His hand came up to cup my cheek again and I closed my eyes, leaning into his soft touch. There was something about this man that made me feel safe, protected. My breathing still hadn’t returned to normal, and with the battlefield scene and the terror sticking with me, I really didn’t want to be alone.
I struggled for a moment before I gave in and voiced it. “Will you stay? I… don’t want to be alone.”
“Nightmares can do that.” He looked at me, then around the room, stopping to evaluate the desk chair.
I scooted over in the bed to make room. “Please?” My voice broke on the word.
He froze as he realized exactly what I was asking. Before he slid the mask back onto his face, I thought I saw a flicker of… something break through. It certainly wasn’t desire.
“Of course, Princess,” he murmured.
He climbed into the bed, making it creak and shift with his weight as he lay on his side. “Come here.”
He held up his arm, and I hesitated. I was torn between maintaining some distance, some dignity, and a much larger part, the part that was still trembling from the terror, that craved the safety that I knew he’d provide. I scooted back into the space he’d made, my back pressing up against his bare chest. At any other time, I would have been completely distracted by the firm, broad expanse radiating heat along my spine. But the nightmare still clung to me like smoke. I could feel the burn of the flames, smell the stenchof death. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those endless dark holes staring back at me, felt the phantom weight of the gauntlet around my throat.
My heart continued to race and I shook slightly, the adrenaline refusing to drain despite the solid, protective presence guarding my back. And to make matters worse, here I was asking the Champion to spend the night with me to protect me from bad dreams like a frightened child. I should have been embarrassed, but I was still too raw and shaken to care about my pride. I’d see if that returned in the morning.
He gently rested his arm around my waist, respectfully holding me to him. Or as respectfully as he could with his massive, warm body curled around me.
“Sleep, Princess. I’ll be here if you need me.”
His voice was a deep rumble against my back. I wanted to believe that this, him holding me in his arms, hand splayed over my stomach, would be enough. But the shadows in the room seemed to shift and writhe from the corners of my eyes. Every small sound made me tense. But slowly, gradually, his rhythmic breathing and the security of his arms lessened the lingering terror. I matched my breathing to his, slow and steady.
Somehow, impossibly, I fell asleep.
The next morningI woke slowly, a warmth spreading through me, which was shocking because I was always cold here. I glanced at the window to find that it was still dark out. Something warm shifted under my cheek, and it all came flooding back.
The nightmare.
Griff appearing after being summoned by my terror.
Me asking him to stay like a frightened child.
And… oh gods. I had been using Griff as a pillow. Sometime in the night, I must have turned to him, seeking his warmth and security, even in sleep. Now my head was nestled in the hollow of his bare shoulder, my hand splayed across his chest, and I had apparently thrown a leg over him too. His arm was around my back, holding me to him like I belonged there.
Shit.
His breathing was steady under my cheek. I had no idea how to disentangle myself from him without waking him. I wasn’t even sure if I did want to move. I stayed still, debating what to do, until I felt a hand stroking my hair.
“You’re thinking so loud I can hear you.”
