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Sweet Ruin(141)

By:Kresley Cole


“Dream?” she asked.

His brows were drawn, eyes wild. “Not quite.”

She frowned. She wasn’t in bed? No, he was outside with her. The air felt really thin. And cold. She peered up. The stars burned bright.

Too bright.

She met his gaze—read their situation from the alarm in his expression. “I sleep-ghosted?”

“Yes, love.” He swallowed. “Up.”

She didn’t want to look. “Wh-where are we?”

He gave a curt nod. In other words, Yes, it’s that bad.

“Why are you with me?”

He grated, “Because that’s where I bloody belong.”

She peered down. Sucked in a breath. Panicked.

She started to embody, her stomach lurching as they plummeted.

As soon as she’d solidified enough, Rune coiled his arms around her and traced them to her bed.

“Ah, gods, Josephine.” He tucked her into his lap, his lungs heaving.

“Wh-what happened?” Panting, she clung to him, savoring his heat and strength, inhaling his scent.

“We went for a trip.” His heart pounded at her ear.

“I took you with me?”

With his chin on her head, he nodded. “You turned intangible and began to rise. I tried to wake you, barely catching your grip in time.” He pressed his lips against her hair.

Catching her grip? “Why didn’t you let me go? I know how scared of heights you are.”

He drew back. “I will never let you go.” He cradled her face in his hands. “Wherever you were headed—I don’t give a fuck—that’s where I want to be as well.”

He’d been her anchor, refusing to release her. Just as she’d always wanted.

Then she remembered.

“I’ve missed you so much, Josie—”

She pushed at his chest until he eased his hold. “How did you know where I was?” She scrambled off the bed, standing to face him.

He stood as well. “I’ve known since that night at Val Hall.” He was unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes. He’d lost weight, his jeans hanging looser than usual.

“You’ve been spying on me!”

He nodded shamelessly. “I’ve lived in the carriage house for the last week.”

Then he’d overheard every conversation between her and Thad. “You need to go. Not doing this here. I’m not doing this with you.”

“Please. Give me five minutes.”

She glared, rubbing her arms. She was freezing in only a T-shirt—since it’d been chilly in the stratosphere.

“You’re cold.” He crossed to her, removing his coat. “Take my jacket.”

Ignoring him, she traced to her closet for clothes. “I can’t believe you’ve been right there all week,” she called as she yanked on jeans. “Why not show yourself?”

“An ally pointed out I shouldn’t barge in on your bonding with Thad. You’d waited more than half your life to reunite with him. I decided nothing should interrupt you two.”

She snatched on a hoodie, her anger seething. She’d been in a good place with hating him. Then he had to go and follow her into space and all. “You were spying on me—except for when you went out to score?” She returned to her room. “The demon in you needs to get off multiple times a day, right?”

He closed the distance between them with two strides of his long legs. Standing too close, he gazed down at her. “The demon in me is mated. As is the fey. Both are quite happy about this.”

Even now he could affect her. Luckily, all she had to do was recall . . . “That didn’t stop you with Meliai.”

“No, it didn’t.”

To hear it confirmed . . . Knife in gut. Her outline flickered.

“I stopped myself with Meliai.”

“What does that mean?” Please mean what I think it means!

“I didn’t have sex with her.”

Wasn’t the word sex a qualifier in this sense? “You two got off another way? A little slap and tickle for the nymph? Hey, as long as she was satisfied, right?”

“I was determined to breach the wraiths that night; I was in bed, naked with her.”

Jo couldn’t stifle her wince.

“No one got off in any way, and I guarantee she was anything but satisfied. But I don’t really remember what I was doing—I get . . . detached. I go cold, and my mind grows hazy.”

Flashes of a dream arose. A new one. Before Jo had sleep-ghosted, she must’ve seen another memory of his. She experienced that night on Ayers Rock from his point of view. When she’d admitted her phobia to him, he’d thought, She fears floating away; I fear extinguishing my emotions forever. . . . Maybe we could be each other’s anchors.