DOTD Chapter 12

Fever dreams, a brawl between two suitors, Rune an Fluer give in

Chapter 12




My lips were on his, tangled in the sweet, familiar taste of his tongue. His hands trailed delicately across the curves of my body, long fingers gently caressing every memorized inch of me. I surrendered, the weight of him tenderly pressing me further into my mattress, welcoming the raw vulnerability I hid from the rest of the world. My fingers toyed with the frilled comforter, breathing in his honeyed, amber smell. This was our space. One of our nights, a precious moment when our bodies whispered to one another and the demands and rules of the world stopped their screaming. Nothing else mattered here. In my room, wrapped tenderly in the sheets, kissed by candlelight, nothing could touch me except him. I was his. He was mine.

Blood rushed through my veins, warming my face as he bit lazily on my bottom lip. His hips crashed harder into mine, causing a breathless gasp to escape my lips in between the passionate dance of our lips colliding. We were one. One body, one breath.

“ God, Rune,” I breathed into his mouth, his name a desperate plea.

His lips wandered to my jaw, delivering small nips and licks along it as he made his way down my neck. “ I’ll never leave you,” he mouthed into my skin, his breath warm and safe. “ My Slayer.”

The words jolted me out of a heated haze and shot my eyes wide open. Suddenly, my grip on his arms stretched, the muscles beneath swelling. The foreign feeling of stubble scratched along my neck, brushing sweetly against my skin. Only one person ever called me that…..

I looked down. The face before me was no longer Rune’s mousy hair and green eyes.
It was Lucien.

In a flash, it wasn’t my bed I was lying on, the familiar comfort of my room surrounding me. Instead, my back was pinned to the rug on the cabin floor, Lucien’s enormous muscles towering over me. His golden eyes were warmly lit in the firelight, his rough voice barely a whisper against my skin. The rough calluses of his hands nipped along my thighs as I eased into the shape of him. It felt so right.


“ Damn you for being so beautiful,” he murmered.


I jolted from sleep, whipping my head around at my surroundings.

My vanity, my curtains, my slippers by the bed…..my bed.
Thank God!

It was just a dream. Relief washed over me as I flopped back into the sheets, rolling my face into my pillow. A groan escaped my throat, the frustrated sound muffled in the cushion.

What the hell kind of dream was that?
Why Lucien?

My heart surprisingly tugged at his name, the ghost of his rough hands still lingering on my body. It had felt so real, his lips dragging on mine, the electricity burning in the small spaces between us, the warm safety that wrapped around me as he softly explored every curve and dip of my figure. Tangled, strange feelings coiled inside me. Why?

God and Rune.
It had been him first—that arrogant, heart wrenching asshole. This hadn’t been the first time Rune had haunted my dreams, and with the current rift between us, I hated myself for it. My subconscious had decided to torment me. I knew the taste of his lips so well, knew his patterns and soft rhythms that had me begging for more countless times before. Dreams of him were more like memories, real and alive. My heart knotted over on itself, foreign, confusing emotions persisting.

What a mess…

Hot and perplexed, I rolled on my back, no longer capable of keeping my eyes shut, where Lucien and Rune’s faces haunted me with sensual smiles. I stared up at the ceiling as the events of last night unfolded gradually in my mind, recalling every detail to memory. The horrors in the woods, my sword dripping in black blood, Pearl’s lifeless body….the washroom.

I pressed the base of my palms to my eyes and huffed out a breath. I’d hoped the embarrassing moment had been dreamt up too, but unfortunately, it was still very much a reality. I pictured Lucien’s stone face, completely cracked, eyes wide as he witnessed me completely stripped bare before him.

God, it was so humiliating.

Heaps of shame rolled onto my shoulder, hot coals of embarrassment searing my skin. The man had seen me naked, and now I was having dreams about him…special…dreams. Why? It’s not as if we had….connected. The man was an ass and as callous and cold as obsidian. We’d never shared a moment, a breath, a touch. A series of traumatic events and a few laughs to be sure, but our friendship was like a fragile ember struggling in the wind, destined to flicker out without the warmth of care, and emotion, both of us were not well-versed in. In fact there had been nothing to even remotely suggest he thought of me in that way. I felt foolish, even if it was impossible to control your dreams. And yet, despite all of that, something unfamiliar and so, SO wrong pulled at my heart when I thought of him. A stupid, ridiculous thought that I was sure would be fleeting. He was a timeless one, an immortal being salted with years and weathered by time, and I…I was, well…

I was nothing.

I wondered if the handprint I’d left behind on his cheek had faded by now.

Holy shit, I had actually slapped him.
A small laugh of disbelief tumbled out of my mouth, shocked at my own brash actions.

Now knowing who he was….or what he was, I probably should’ve reconsidered the act of violence. Lucien could flick me with the tip of his pinky finger, and I would go flying halfway across the globe. It was foolish, I knew that now. And yet even with his supernatural strength and gruff demeanor, he’d carried me all the way back to the manor so that I might rest a few moments longer. The hard-faced, cold-hearted Hallowbane had gently scooped me into his arms and brought me back to safety.

What made someone like him do that?
Why even bother? Why not hurl a pillow in my face or shake my shoulders awake?

No, something shifted last night. The way he’d unfolded his past, vulnerable and honest, allowing me to peek through the crack in the door to his soul. Against his very nature, there had been a softness about him, a relaxed ease that seeped out one slow drop at a time. Was it possible when the Gods had chiseled and chipped him from limestone that they managed to bury a heart deep within him somewhere? I wasn’t sure it was possible for Lucien to feel anything but obligation and pride.

What a stupid, stupid dream….

I sat up, flustered, easing both of my legs off the side of my bed. I was surprised I was even awake this early. I’d probably gained a solid four hours of sleep since the last restless night, and had been physically exerting myself training. My mind and body screamed with exhaustion as I sat, bleary-eyed and barefoot, on the edge of my mattress. I was still wearing Lucien’s shirt, his warm, masculine scent clinging to the worn flannel. I should have changed last night, but I was too tired and it was too comfortable, the long black fabric encasing me like a soft fortress. So instead, I climbed under the covers and hit the pillow hard, too lazy to do anything about it.

I scratched my head through my mess of tangled black hair and yawned as my toes curled and flexed awake. My room was undisturbed, quiet. Sunlight bled through the sheer curtains framing my window, filling the room with a cosy warmth. I sat still, blinking hard at my surroundings and drawing up the strength within myself to stir my body into motion. My eyes settled on my letter to Edwin still folded and tucked undeath a stack of books on my desk.

A sting pinched my insides, nipping at a wound that was far from healing. Every morning I woke, every breath I took was one more Edwin would never see, never breathe. Guilt gathered and sat on my chest, resuming its assigned seat.
“ Good morning, friend,” I whispered. My words fell flat in the silence, ringing hollow in the air and reminding me of his absence.

The day was waiting, and following close behind, a night of more training with Lucien. I needed to get moving. Just as I began to ease to my feet, muffled voices sounded from outside my door. It was Eleanor and….a male voice, too. Discussing something in forceful, hushed tones.

“ Miss Undergrove is still asleep. It would not be appropriate-” her muted words were interrupted by the man.

“ I need to see her! You need to let me pass,” he said, the urgency in his tone unmistakable.

Who? Who needed to see me?

“ No, I cannot do that,” she replied. “ It’s not proper-”

There was a series of shuffling noises. The handle on my door rattled and turned. Blonde hair and eyes the color of a clear summer sky came into view.
James.

His face was flushed, worried lines creased across his brow. Eleanor appeared, tacking behind him, her face exacerbated with tired frustration. I stood immediately, hastily grabbing the sheets and wrapping them over my bare legs. “James, what are you-?”

“I'm sorry, Miss Fluer. I tried to stop him from coming in, but he insisted and-,” words were tumbling out of her mouth in one jumbled mess. “ He- he pushed past me.”

His eyes widened when he beheld me wrapped in sheets, the blind determination to find me wearing off. “ I- uh, I didn’t realize you’d be,” he mumbled, “ I’m sorry, it was foolish of me to barge in.”

“ It’s okay, James,” I said, gathering my wits. “ Eleanor, you may leave us.”

Her lips disappeared into a thin line, clearly disapproving of my command. But nevertheless, she muttered “ Yes, Miss Fleur” and took her leave, closing the door behind her.

James descended, deciding to disregard my appearance and wrapping me tightly in his arms before I could get a word out. “ God, Fleur, I’ve been so worried,” he said, concern clear in his tone.

“ Jesus, James. Easy,” I said, my cheek smooshed against the golden buttons of his silk waistcoat.

He pulled me back, bracing both of my shoulders, eyes restlessly searching my face. “ I heard what happened with Edwin and-and the carriage and…I feel terrible. If you had stayed for dinner, this would never have happened. I can’t help but feel responsible.” He was rambling, stammering, each word tripping over the next.

A sharp, painful cord rippled through my chest at the sound of Edwin’s name. The grief-stricken memories clawed their way into the front of my mind, nails digging in deep, reminding me of all that had broken, all that had shifted.

“James,” I said, the sound of his name causing him to still. “I'm okay,” I assured him, lying through my teeth. The words were difficult to get out, each one sour, leaving behind a vile aftertaste on my tongue.

He huffed out a loud sigh and brought one of his hands to his face, pinching his brow and shaking his head. “ God, I was just so worried. A death… here in Innswood. It just doesn't happen. And with the rumors about you and all—I just didn’t know what to think. I didn’t think really. Before I knew it, I was in a carriage heading towards the manor and harassing your poor handmaiden to let me in.”

“ James,” I said again. “ It’s okay. I'm safe. This wasn't your fault. It was an accident.”

Accident.

The lie was almost unbearable, the festering rot of defaming his honor eating away at my insides. Accidents were tragic, unpredictable events in which the only direction a finger could be pointed was at Death himself and his elusive timing. No, it was no accident that a knife was taken to Edwin’s flesh and his blood written across the glass. It was no accident because whoever murdered him was after…me. His flesh and blood were sacrificed as a warning, a warning I still had yet to understand.

“ An accident,” I whispered, the repeated phrase falling from my lips like lifeless foliage in Autumn.

His tense shoulder dropped slightly, his hand still on my shoulder, easing down my arms and dropping to cradle my wrist. I could feel the weight of his gaze, eyes searching for my own. I would not meet them.

Just then, the latch to the window creaked open. Boots landing on the floor below followed.

“ What the hell,” said a voice. One I wished I would never hear again.

We both turned to behold Rune easing off the windowsill, dressed in his usual worn tunic and trousers. Layers of confusion were plastered across his face, his devastating emerald eyes holding millions of questions. They sharpened with disgust when he saw James.

Dear God. Not now.
Instinctively, I wrapped the sheets tighter around my legs. Him showing up, here, now, and after that god awful dream. This was the last thing I needed.

“ Rune?” James said, his tone surprised and appalled. “ What are you doing, climbing through the window of a lady’s bedroom?” he questioned. His words were dripping with disdain, every syllable was a dart thrown and aimed at the bullseye right between Rune’s eyes.

My pulse began to race. I felt exposed, in more ways than one. My physical appearance was nothing in comparison to the secrets that were now being drug out of the shadows. This was bad. Really, really bad. If Father found out….I shuttered.

“ I could ask you the same thing, Lord Estridsen,” Rune replied, drawing out his title with disgust and sarcasm. He paced around James, each step aired in imitation of a nobleman.
“ Where is your lovely bride-to-be?” he mused, his beautiful, agonizing face twisting with mischievous delight as the spiteful words left his lips.

I should’ve known he would jump at any chance to cause trouble instead of closing that rutting mouth.

“ Rune, why… the hell… are you here?” I asked through gritted teeth, my question laced with a silent threat. I was going to strangle him.

His eyes shifted to me, then to my legs wrapped in the sheets from the waist down, and finally to James’s protective grip on my wrist. His face contorted as he put together pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to fit. He met my gaze, raw and tangled emotions blatantly painted across his face for the world to see. Rune was seldom subtle, his overflowing reservoir of passion betraying him at all times. Locked on me once more, I saw the betrayal, the hurt, the confirmation all twining together in a suffocating mess of green, spindly vines.

“ I came to see how you were doing. What is HE doing here?” He seethed.

My hand went to my temples, pressing hard into the soft tissue as if it would remove the headache of these two idiots facing off in my room. It was clear by now that the gods had selected and deemed my life a constant amusement for them, throwing fiery balls of chaos at me whenever they could. Before I could reply, James was strolling over to Rune, chest puffed with pride and a false sense of defense for my honor.

“Well, I came to see if she was alright,” he boomed, standing a little taller. “ Clearly, seeking out her well-being is not your intention if you're sneaking through the window like a rat in the shadows.”

Don't say anything stupid. Please don't say anything stupid!

“ Oh, don’t worry, she’s very well taken care of,” Rune mused, a malicious grin growling wildly on his lips, “ Her well-being is usually on mine, and my name is usually on her lips.”

Oh, no.

The words caused me to flinch, my face immediately flushing, cheeks hot with embarrassment. Prickling heat pulsed through my body, my fury at Rune reaching its highest peak.

“ What is wrong with you?!” I breathed, my breath hotter than the flames in hell.

He had just casually spilled to James Estridsen, son of Charles Estriden and the wealthiest, most influential man in society, that we had been…intimate. The daughter of a Duke had been sleeping with a tradesman's son. The action alone was enough to have the whole town in an uproar, and Father hand delivering me a fresh round of purpled bruises, but Rune’s station…that somehow would be the worst part. My palms turned sweaty, fury and anxiety fighting within me for the spotlight. I glared at Rune, my bright eyes darkening with molten rage. I would not let him get away with this.

James’s whole body had gone stiff, soaking in the brash meaning of Rune’s words. A dark cloud settled over his brow, and his fist curled into a tightly coiled ball, knuckles turning white.

“ If you want to keep that mouth, I kindly suggest you close it. You speak disrespectfully of Miss Undergove. I won't let you continue,” James thundered, all formal grace and poise lost to his growing anger.

“ Oh, look at this, ladies and gents! Daddy’s money wants to dance,” Rune taunted, eyes flashing with challenge. “ Go on, pretty boy, take a jab!”

“ Both of you! Stop this instant!” I yelled from behind, eyes darting from Rune to James and back. My heart raced, still gripping fiercely to the bedsheets. They were about to brawl…in my bedroom…and I still had… NO PANTS ON!

How the hell was this happening?!

In a flash, James grabbed the collar of Rune’s shirt, bunching the fabric tightly in his fist. Rune’s smile only grew wider, his eyes glinting with anticipation, waiting for James to strike.

“ Do it,” he panted, taunting through a smile. “Go on!”

“ Damn it, you guys! Just stop!” I shouted again, my plea bouncing off their numb ears and wounded pride.

It was useless. James' fist connected with Rune’s jaw…hard. He stumbled back, bracing an arm behind him on my vanity, knocking over a glass bottle of my perfume. A low chuckle broke free from his throat as he licked a small drop of blood from his lips and spat at the floor. He dragged his dirty sleeve across his face, wiping his mouth.

Oh my god!
Oh my god!

I rushed to both of them, dropping the sheets and my dignity on the floor. At this point, I was more concerned with one of them breaking my furniture or each other's bones than I was with the bare state of my legs.

“ Not bad,” Rune taunted, standing to his full height again. “ I smell roses. Did you moisturize your hands?”

“ You little-” James boomed under his breath, his furious steps starting to close in on him again.

I wedged myself in between them, both my arms outstretched in each direction, warding them off each other. James heaved in ragged breath, the fury in his eyes burning brighter than a dying star.

“ That's ENOUGH!” I yelled, my voice carrying through the room. Someone would have definitely heard all the commotion. “ Both of you need to leave! NOW!”

“ You heard the Lady,” Rune crooned from my right.

That was it.

I was done, so done with his childish, brash behavior. He never understood the concept of consequences, but I vowed that once James left, the lesson would be branded into his memory and possibly smacked across his smug face. I slammed my palm against his chest, pushing him back with all the force I had. He stumbled back slightly.

I glared at him with ferocity that promised a slow, painful death, silencing the next snarky words forming on his tongue.

“ Shut your damn mouth,” I snapped, boiling over completely.

James didn't move an inch, just stood there frozen in rage, eyes unwavering from his target.
I placed my finger on his jaw, drawing his eyes to me.

“James, you need to leave,” I said, maintaining eye contact.

“ I can’t leave you alone with this- this pathetic womanizer!” He declared, eyes wandering back to Rune. I gripped his chin in my fingers this time, forcing him to look at me.

“ I can handle myself. You need to leave. Now,” I said firmly and released him.

Confliction flashed across his face, as if he was contemplating ignoring my wishes and driving Rune thoroughly into the carpet. But his features eventually settled, complying with surrender.
He took one more glance at me, then at Rune. He shook his head at his feet and scoffed before leaving the room in the same long strides in which he entered, leaving the door open and the scene exposed. Dread fell all the way to my feet. The words that had been spoken here in this room could be my undoing.

The rhythmic clinking of Eleanor’s heels sounded, approaching in the hall. Panic set in, heavy and all at once. My heart rate kicked into high gear, sweat beading on my hairline.

“ Shit. Shit. Shit!” I cursed under my breath, flying towards Rune with insane speed. She couldn’t know. She couldn’t know! I could feel the future sting of Father’s ring ripping into my skin once more. I needed to do something and fast!

He was leaning up against my closet door, biting at his nails casually as if he hadn’t just humiliated the life out of me and flown into my vanity. I grabbed his shirt, hastily pulling him off the door, and turned the handle.

“ Woah, woah, Groves. At least try to keep your hands off me,” He hummed.

“ Shut up and get in there now!”

I shoved him with all my might into the closet, causing him to trip on a chest and fall.
“ Hey! What the hell-”

“ Just be quiet you asshole! I’ll deal with you later,” I commanded, shaking my finger at him in warning.

“Looking forward to it,” he drawled, smiling up at me from the floor.

I huffed and slammed the door, leaving him dangerously to his own devices in the darkness. Eleanor’s steps were getting louder, closer. I rushed back to my bed, throwing the coverings over me once more and assuming my previous stance. I attempted to steady my breathing and my racing pulse. Taking a few deep breaths, I frantically pushed the hair from my mouth and primped the sheets once more.

Her concerned face came into view, followed by small, elegant steps. Her brows were drawn to the center in speculation, just like the tight bun atop her head.

“ There was an awful lot of common,” she said, scanning the room. “ Is everything alright?”

“ Fine,” I breathed out too quickly. “ I tripped and knocked over one of my perfumes, that's all. No harm done, I have quite a few.” I offered her a sheepish smile, attempting to mask the growing dread in my gut from a certain asshat in my closet.

Her gaze shifted to my vanity and the tipped-over bottle, skepticism flickering across her harsh features. “ What did Lord Estridsen want?” she prompted.

“ Oh, nothing! Just needed to discuss a few details for the ball. It’s approaching so soon!” I lied, biting my lip anxiously.

“ The masquerade has been delayed, Miss,” she replied, suspicion rising in her tone. “ The Estridsens deemed the celebration inappropriate in light of Edwin’s death. It will resume in three weeks time.”

Rats. Of course, they would move the ball….
God, think, think!

I nervously fidgeted with the sleeve of Lucien’s shirt, racking my brain for an excuse. “ Yes, well, it was related to a wedding gift for Aurelia. You know how picky she can be. He wanted my opinion!”

“ He seemed very urgent. For a wedding present?” she asked, her eyes seeing straight through me.

I hated playing this card, even if it was on Eleanor. The servants were still people who thought, spoke, loved, and in my boisterous opinion deserved respect too. I liked to believe I wasn’t a part of the snobbish nobility cult who talked down to the help like they were nameless, but at this moment, it was my only option. I puffed my chest slightly and turned up my nose like I’d seen Aurelia do time and time again. With as much elevated rank as I could muster, I spoke my next words.

“ Yes, a wedding present. And quite frankly, I don’t think you get paid to put your nose in my personal matters.”

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side, left eye surveying me. “ Apologies, Miss, I forget my place.” Her words were not apologetic in the slightest, not that I cared. The only thing that mattered was that her questions would now cease. Her speculation would be forced to submit to her station.

She approached the closet, speaking to me as she walked. “ What will you be wearing today, then?” Her hand reached for the knob.

“NO,” I blurted out, too loud and too fast.

She whirled around in surprise, hand jumping from the knob.

“ Ah- I mean, no thank you! I’ll be dressing myself today,” I stammered, swallowing hard.

She gave me a look that suggested the thought I was plum-mad, and honestly, she wouldn’t have been wrong. I had my sister’s fiancé in a raging tizzy, my former lover stuffed in my closet, all while wearing another man’s shirt. Good, god….

“ Very well… Miss,” she finally replied, each one of her words laced with silent judgment.

A thud came from the closet.
Damn it Rune!
Both of our heads shot to the door.
“ That will be all. Thank you,” I said hastily, attempting to draw her attention away from it.

She gave me a slow, skeptical nod and took her leave, closing the door behind her. I flung from the bed, locking the handle from the inside so that nobody else could ambush me. I waiting to hear her footsteps disappear down the hall once more before storming over to my closet door.

I swung it wide to reveal a lazy Rune, sifting through my nightgowns. He held up a vivid crimson cami, the one I’d been in the night he came to tell me the news about his Father.

“ What the Hell, Rune!”

“ This one is my favorite,” he mused, running his fingers along the buttery fabric.

“ Put that down! Do you have any idea the problems you just caused for me? You irresponsible, childish, stubborn ass!” I barked, attempting to snatch it out of his hands.

He held the garment higher, his long arms putting it out of my reach. I missed, hands swiping through the air. “ Wow, harsh! Irresponsible, childish, and stubborn? That's quite a list,” he replied, amusement painted across his face.

“You’re so selfish, Rune! How could you say something like that in front of James? If this gets back to Father, you know what he will do!” I fumed, breath ragged with exasperation.
“I know! I know,” he mumbled, “ But you really think James would say anything? He practically drools on you every time he sees you. He clearly cares about you. Why would he put your reputation at stake? ” He dangled the nightgown in front of me again, smiling, taunting in his usual way.

“I don’t know, maybe jealousy. Sound familiar?” I huffed, swiping at the cami once more.
“God, will you just give it to me? I’m gonna kill you!”

He chuckled, my threats rolling off him like rainwater, lifting the nightgown out of my reach again. Body all ready in motion, I missed for the third time, grabbing aimlessly at nothing. My foot caught on something below that sent me sprawling, landing smack on top of him. His smile grew wider as I tumbled into him, my legs landing intertwined with his, our mouths inches from each other.

“ Hello, Pet,” he purred, green eyes holding troves of playful mischief.

Face flushed with aggravation, hair tangled across my eyes, I blew out an angry breath. “ You little son of a bitch! How dare you! How dare you humiliate me like that, how dare you assume-”

He placed a long finger gently across my lips. “ Shhh,” he coaxed.

The touch sent sparks flying, a trill of electric nerves fluttering through my gut, betraying my better judgment. I batted away his finger and attempted to crawl to my feet, but he was too quick, securing my wrists in his strong grip and kicking my knees out from underneath me. The motion had me falling on top of him once more, slamming into his chest. A labored grunt left my lungs as I yanked against his grasp on me, all the useless writhing getting me nowhere.

“ Let go of me Asshole!” I growled, still struggling against him. I blew more hair from my flushed face.

“ Say please,” he sang softly. His lips were curled into an effortless, gorgeous smile, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“ Never,” I wheezed, the words barely upright. “ I don’t owe you anything, ever!”

“ Not even a please?” he purred, his hands still tightly coiled around my wrists.

“ I’m done playing this stupid game! Let go of me, Rune!” I bit back, pulling with all my might against his grip once more. I continued to struggle, drops of sweat falling down my spine. This stuffy closet, his cocky smile, the words that were carelessly tossed around just moments ago, I was going to explode.

“ Hey,” he whispered to me, drawing me out of a spiral of overstimulated heat. “ How are you? Really?”

His words cooled my skin slightly, the genuine concern for my state ringing through clearly. Despite his attitude and careless words, I knew he cared. It had been him I’d run to, his shoulder I’d cried on, his fingers who’d gently tended to my battle scars after nights with the Duke. Through all of the possessiveness and mounds of insecurity was a boy whose heart dearly longed to hold mine. And as wrong and backwards as it was, it felt so natural to tell him, so easy to share my burdens with him.

Our eyes met, and I was lost, walking along a well-worn path inside a dense, mossy forest. My thrashing ceased, breath catching in my lungs. Suddenly, I was very aware of our placement. My bare legs tangled in his, my palms pressed to his chest, the rapid thrum of his heart beating through, the feeling of his skin on mine. It was never a good idea to be this close to him, but my heart ached with the weight of Edwin’s death. I was vulnerable and he— he was familiar.

“ It’s been…hard,” I managed to croak out. The words throbbed relentlessly at my heart as they left my lips.

“I'm so sorry, Groves,” he murmured back.

He loosened his grip, reaching up a hand and gently brushing the stray hairs from my face, tucking them behind my ear. His touch was reverent, endearing, as if he held moonlight in his palms. Instinctively, my body leaned into him, like a flower starved of sunlight, desperate for even the tiniest of rays. The small movement cracked open my ribs, spilling out years of turmoil, hurt, anger. Thunder rumbled, lightning cracked, and the waves within my heart crashed and tossed about in chaos.

“ You don’t get to do that. Not anymore,” I whispered, my words husked and broken.

Ignoring my wishes, his fingers traced behind my ear and down my neck, tangling themselves at the base of my skull, each feather-light brush stirring a deep and buried longing within me.
Warmth bloomed in my lower belly and rose to my cheeks. His face was inches from mine, emeralds barreling into my eyes, holding an understanding only he possessed. I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, the ghostly movement of his thumb dragging softly along my wrist in reverence.

What am I doing?
I need to get up.
It would be all too easy to fall into…

The movements grew heavier, begging. His eyes dropped to my lips, his gaze heavy and heated. My breath became ragged, an invisible pull lulling me into something very, very stupid. Shivers ran over every inch of my body, pleading with me to give in.

Get up…
Get up!
It didn’t matter if he cared. It didn’t change what he did, what he continued to do.
“ No,” I said softly, my protest weak and defenseless. “ Not after how you talked to me. Not after everything, after all these years.”

I was better than this, stronger than this, but his touches felt like heaven, and his lips were so close to mine, so much so that I could feel the heat of his words. I needed to get lost, to break away from the pain, the grief, the destruction of the world around me. I needed to be loved, just for a moment, even if it was all a lie.

“ I take it all back. All of it. Don’t you know how much you drive me crazy?” he replied, his words breathy and soaked with emotion.

This wasn't fair. I was too vulnerable, too…lonely.

“ You don’t deserve me,” I replied, a whirlwind of betrayal and desire raging within me.

“ I know,” he breathed, his lips parted in heavy longing. “ I know.”

The pull was heavier now, gravity sinking me further into him regardless of how hard I tried to resist. I traced a finger along the inky bruise blooming along his jaw, tenderly, cautiously touching. His skin was warm, heartbeat drumming fiercely as I leisurely traced the outline. He was beautiful, heart-wrenching, painful, and my safety all at once. His fingers toyed with my hair in soft, circular motions, his thumb straying to the corner of my lips. He tugged softly at the tender skin, silently pleading with me.

“ Rune, I can’t do this-”

“ Will you just shut up already?” he whispered.

That was it.

His lips crashed into mine, breaking through my walls. The sun and moon collided, stars bursting into a million specs of dazzling light as we lulled into a hazy, slow rhythm. I was drowning, all my willpower lost in the taste of his mouth. His hands found my hips, gripping deep, pulling me further into him, the places where our skin connected burning with fierce passion. Our lips danced playfully, slow at first, then faster, more frenzied. It wasn’t enough, I needed more of him. I couldn’t think, couldn’t break away, couldn’t stop myself from being hopelessly and utterly consumed by him.

“ Asshole,” I muttered into his mouth in between kisses.

“ Fluer,” he exhaled back into mine.

God, my name. My actual name.

It had me throwing every bit of caution to the wind as he rolled on top of me, kissing down my neck feverishly as if he could never get enough of the taste of my skin. His hands traveled to my inner thighs, exploring freely from memory. His body pressed into mine, the shape of his lips dragging across my skin, the known sound of his staggered breaths as heat continued to build, it was all-consuming. I let him burn me alive, the mistakes, the pain, the wrong choices bleeding into the very fragments of this moment. I didn’t care, all of it, wrong and backwards, only had his name on the lingering tip of my tongue all the more, waiting to rip free from my lungs. His legs pinned me as he heaved himself up and began unbuttoning his shirt, chest rapidly rising and falling. His smoldering gaze shifted from his buttons to me, sprawled on the floor of the closet below him, face flushed with impatient desire.

The lull was agonizing, my body blazing with heated passion. The seconds ticking by felt like hours, my lips craving his taste with every fiber of my being.

His fingers stopped. He sat there… frozen, staring at me. His face twisted with something I couldn’t place.

“What?” I managed to get out, my breathing raspy and uneven.

“ What are you wearing?” he asked, his voice low.

Dread hit me like a cold, hard brick, dousing frigid water over my flames.
….Lucien’s shirt.