“Eat,” Aidan ordered. “No sleep.”
“I got it.”
Lyssa watched him fall into a fitful slumber, and studied his features for a long time after that. Then she made herself a sandwich and sat at the dining table with her book about dreams and reincarnation.
And thought about love at first sight.
Burning.
As awareness took over, that was first thing that registered in Aidan’s mind. A scorching breeze moved over him, blistering his skin, drying his nostrils, cracking his lips. The air was fetid, filled with the stench of death and despair.
Opening his eyes, he found himself facing the Gateway, tied to a pole with his arms behind him. Nightmares poured out in endless, unchecked numbers. Around him, hundreds of voices shouted, casting blame at his feet for actions he couldn’t remember. He was alone except for the slender, golden-haired figure who reached for the door…
No!
Aidan jerked awake, startling JB, who screeched in alarm. His heart racing, it took him a moment to realize where he was. He ran both hands through his hair, wincing at the damp roots and his sticky skin.
Nightmares.
The bastards. He was no longer safe from them in his sleep. They dug deep into his mind, finding his fears and feeding on them. He felt drained and on edge at the same time.
Never having met his foe unguarded before, he felt violated. Wretched. His stomach heaved.
Seeking the only true solace he had ever known, Aidan turned his head toward the low drone of the TV and saw Lyssa at his side, seated on the floor. It was dark, the blinds drawn, the only illumination coming from the flickering light of the television and the aquarium in the dining room. He reached for her, running his hand through the loose golden strands he loved. She moved, sliding slowly away, toward the floor…
…a dead weight.
The panic he’d recently retreated from flared anew, pounding through his blood until his heart was ready to explode. He leaped from the couch, barely catching her slumping body before it hit the floor.
“Lyssa!” He shook her violently. “Damn it, I told you to stay awake!”
Her eyelids fluttered, but her subconscious was already connected to the deadly Twilight.
The cry that tore from him was both desperate and inhuman. His nightmare wasn’t over.
It had only just begun.
Chapter 7
As icy shards tore into her flesh, Lyssa flailed in agony, her subconscious pulling free of the mechanical banging and insidious whispers that were tearing her mind apart. She gulped down a massive breath into tight lungs and opened her throat to scream. Instead, her mouth was covered, increasing her terror.
Struggling to breathe and desperate to evade the needles that struck her everywhere, she clawed at the unyielding arms that trapped and held her immobile.
Sucking in air through her nose, she smelled a scent that caused her eyes to fly open…
…and met darkly determined sapphire blue ones.
Panicked, she clung to the wet, hard body that held hers so rigidly. She gasped for breath, inhaling Aidan’s exhale as he swallowed her cries with the heat of his mouth.
Suddenly her surroundings became clear—the stone tile of her bathroom, the freezing spray from the showerhead behind her, the fully dressed form pressed so tightly to hers. She ceased her struggles, sagging into him, so relieved to be in safe arms after the horror of only a moment before.
He tore his mouth away, breathing harshly, his embrace so tight that no water slipped between them. The feel of his chest was warm, a stark contrast to the river of melted ice water that coursed down her back.
“I-it’s c-cold,” she complained, circling his powerful upper back with her arms.
Turning, he took the brunt of the water from her, the tensing of his jaw the only sign of his discomfort. Lyssa attempted to step away, to free her arms to adjust the temperature, but he held fast.
“L-let me t-turn up the h-heat.”
It took him a long moment to do as she asked, as if he was reluctant to release her. Reaching around him, Lyssa turned the knob. The water began to heat, and steam rose around them. Then she chanced another look up. A tic in his jaw matched his formidable scowl.
“I told you not to fall asleep,” he bit out.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Her arms wrapped his waist in a vain effort to warm up. Aidan moved then, his hands catching the hem of her shirt and tugging upward. If he hadn’t looked so formidable, she might have protested his forwardness. Or she might not have…
“You scared the crap out of me,” he muttered, intensely focused on stripping her bare.
She moved with him, taking his silent commands, understanding by his forcefulness that he was a man who bore the weight of power and responsibility with unusual finesse. Despite how her wet clothes clung to her skin, he had her undressed in no time at all. An expert. The absolute certainty that he undressed women often added to her sense of unrest.