She’s captive to her dreams.
“Night terror,” Jase says with a heavy breath. The metal of his gun rubs against his jeans as he slips it back into place and then looks at me. “I thought someone got in here.” Tiredness is etched onto his face, but also the raw look of fear. He takes a moment to compose himself before starting to tell me, “I thought…”
As he starts to speak, she screams out again and the sharpness of the pain sends spikes over my skin that scrape their way down my body.
It’s a desperate cry that sounds foreign to my ears, although I’m so used to hearing something similar. Pleas for mercy, which I never show.
“What do you want to do about it?” Jase asks me. He’s still catching his breath, just like I am. I can feel him staring at me, wanting to know what to do next. I can’t tear my eyes from her as she curls on her side.
Jase turns to the door as the sounds of someone else coming down the hall makes their presence known.
“I’ll put her on the mattress,” I tell him absently. “Take care of whoever that is and shut the door behind you,” I order him, and my words come out flat. I try to keep the emotion away, but a sense of despair is evident. This wasn’t a part of my plans. My fingers dip into my pocket, fingering the clicker that will open the door to the cell while I’m on the inside.
“You think they did something to her? Romano? Or maybe it’s what she thinks is coming?” Jase asks and finally I turn to look at him.
“How the fuck would I know?” My words come out harsh. The anger at him suggesting her terror is caused by thoughts of what I’ll do to her is unexpected and more than that, unwanted. Of all the things I expected from her, I didn’t anticipate this.
It cuts me in a way I can’t explain. I want to consume her every waking thought. I want her to live and breathe for me and my desires. And maybe this is the cost of it all. That I can have her during her days, but her nights will destroy her.
“Just a nightmare then,” Jase says as if it’s a casual observation. The whimpers still slipping through her parted lips are accompanied with a strangled sound of pain.
“You aren’t supposed to wake them, you know?” Jase breathes out. “When they have night terrors, you’re not supposed to wake them up.”
The light from the door is blocked and the shadow of someone else covers Aria’s slender neck and bared shoulders. I don’t turn to look, but I don’t have to. It’s Declan, asking what’s wrong. He knew she was here, but he doesn’t want any part of this.
“It’s fine,” Jase tells him and then continues, “I don’t think you can do anything really.”
“Just go,” I tell them both and stand as still as I can as they leave the room, taking with them the light from the hall as the door shuts. The creak of the steel is met with a thud and then the click of the lock. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. Another moment of her small cries and then a scream. A terrified scream.
“What did I do that earned me this?” I question her although I know she can’t hear. I haven’t touched her; we haven’t even started. I almost touch the cuts on her wrists, but I pull back. I’ll give her ointment and bandages in the morning. She’ll have to do it herself until she earns my touch.
“Please don’t,” she begs in her sleep. Her words are whispered so softly, and I wonder if they came out that way in her dream. “Please,” she begs.
“You don’t know what you’re asking, songbird,” I tell her softly and consider my own sanity in this moment. “You never had a choice. The moment your father left me alive, your fate was sealed,” I confess to her. Something I’ve never said aloud to anyone.
He should have killed me. It’s Nicholas Talvery’s fault I’m allowed to live another day.
His fault… and someone else’s. The moment the thought comes to me, I see her tremble. Beautifully weak on the cold, unforgiving ground, the sleep taking more and more of her as her words become quieter.
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and it’s the only part of her that moves. “Please.” Her lips mouth the word.
Kneeling before her, I’m slow and deliberate as I pick her up. Conscious of where my gun is tucked away in case she’s playing me. She’s light and fits easily into my arms. I thought she may fight me. That she’d react in fear to my touch. But instead, she molds her body to me and her slender fingers grip onto my shirt. Holding me tighter to her.