Page 165 of Sweet Nightmare

“Seriously?” I say, ducking down to look at him.

He doesn’t even look embarrassed. “No way am I eating someone’s face off.”

“Is that another one of your nightmares?” Izzy asks. “Wicked.”

“Not wicked,” he tells her. “Disgusting.”

Unfortunately, the nightmare is still at large and looking for a home. Plus, Jude has already pulled off another one, which I’m sure will be circling soon, and the last thing we want is for it to slip out of some crack in the door or something.

Not that I think Jude would let that happen, but these things are slippery.

Although I have no idea what I’m going to do with it if I can grab it, I still reach a hand out for it. But, unlike the others, it doesn’t come near me. In fact, it gives me a wide berth.

I wonder what that’s all about?

But Jude is currently holding two wiggling nightmares in his left hand as he continues to pick the tapestry apart with his right, so I know I’ve got to figure something out.

I have one more idea, but it’s completely outrageous. Then again, everything about the last few days is outrageous. What’s one more thing?

I walk up to him and lay a hand on the center of his back. The second I do, the nightmares in his hands start straining toward me.

Not only that, but the gray one floating around the room makes a beeline toward me, as well.

Maybe this idea isn’t as outrageous as I thought. I glance up at Jude. “Do you trust me?” I ask.

In a moment that I will remember forever, Jude—who doesn’t trust anyone—doesn’t even have to think before he says, “Yes.”

And just like that, something snaps taut inside me.

The sudden tug is so powerful that I stumble back—and into Jude, who also just lost his footing.

Our eyes meet, and the moment they do, a warmth like nothing I’ve ever felt blooms in my chest before fanning out to my entire body. It’s a warmth that feels exactly like Jude when he’s holding me, his big body and beautiful soul sheltering me from the world. And in that moment, as I feel his strength and determination and steadfastness and power deep inside myself, I figure out what just happened.

Our mating bond has snapped into place.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

WELL WORTH

THE MATE

For a moment, I’m too shocked to do anything but stare at Jude in awe. He must feel the same way—in fact, I know he feels the same way, since I can sense it deep inside myself. Also, he’s gazing right back at me with the same awestruck look I’m sure I have on my face.

“Clementine,” he whispers. “Did we just…”

“Did you just what?” Luis asks, poking his head out from under the table to check out what’s going on. When we don’t answer, he turns to the others. “Did they just what?”

I ignore him because right now I have something much more important to do. “I think we did,” I whisper to Jude.

His whole face softens in that way I’ve only seen once before, in the dance hall. And then he reaches for me.

When he takes my hand, several of the nightmares on his skin crawl off of him and straight up my arms.

Jude tries to grab them back in alarm, but something tells me I have nothing to be worried about, so I shake my head at him. “Just wait.”

We watch—Jude a lot more warily than I—as they make their way up my forearm to my biceps. They don’t settle on my skin like they do with him, but they also don’t try to arrow inside me like they did with some of the others.

Instead, they wrap themselves around me like a hug, spinning and twirling until they find their perfect spot.

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