Page 52 of The World Undone

“Please fucking breathe. Please,” my voice seemed disturbingly loud in the quiet of the woods, the clear panic lacing it enough to know that I didn’t fully believe my theory that she was most certainly alive.

My vision clouded as I started CPR, pumping her chest and pressing air against her cold, soft lips, as I fought like hell to keep the fear back, to stay focused.

With a gasp, she coughed, a small fountain of water dripping down her cheeks. She turned over, eyes wide and panicked as she fought for more oxygen.

I fell back on my ass, relief coursing through my veins as her gaze fell on me.

“Wade?”

An anxious laugh tore from my lips, like my body didn’t know what to make of the simultaneous fear and joy fighting for control of it. “You’re okay?”

She nodded, brows bent in confusion as she took in our sorry state. Her hands curled around her arms as she shivered. “I’m okay. Guess that dreamwalk was a bit more intense than usual, huh?”

I pulled her close to me, not that I had much heat or warmth to offer her right now, and nodded as I breathed into her neck, letting the feel of her skin, her scent—now coated with the briny water—wash over me. She was okay.

She pulled her face back slightly until her nose was just an inch from mine. Rivulets of water dripped from her eyelashes, her hair, carving delicate streams down her face and neck. Her lips were a few shades deeper than usual from the cold, and the soft moonlight highlighted the sharp angles of her face.

After a night of resisting her nearness, it was no longer possible. I pressed my lips to hers, swallowing her soft hum of surprise, and drank her in.

My body heated from her touch, my dick stiffening as her lips met mine with a need and force that matched my own.

I gripped her close to me, my hands finding the gap between the soaked shirt and boxers she wore—my brother’s, probably, he seemed to like her wearing his clothes—and pressed against her skin, both of us desperate for warmth and nearness as we fought for closeness.

She straddled me, deepening the kiss, her tongue hot and demanding, as she started to grind against me.

Would it always be like this? Would I always want her so badly—every molecule on fire at the touch of her, every thought consumed entirely by her? Because if so, we’d never get anything done.

But I was okay with that—more than okay.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance, and we ignored it.

But then another ruffle followed, another twig snapped, closer this time, and we froze.

A dark figure emerged from between the trees, just a few feet away, its face cast in shadow, like the moon didn’t dare shine on it.

Max tensed against me, then held her hand towards the figure, sparks of her fire dancing around her fingers in a heated glove as her eyes narrowed, focused. “Darius?”

11

MAX

He didn’t move, and I couldn’t quite see his eyes, but I knew with a fierce certainty that they were locked on me.

For a long, tense moment none of us so much as breathed.

The chill air whirred around me and I shivered, suddenly aware of how cold it was—and how drenched I was—now that the adrenaline and heat between me and Wade had dimmed from the interruption.

I climbed off him, my movements stilted and awkward as I held my hand between us, the fire casting deceptively pretty lights around the small clearing.

“Max,” Wade stood beside me, in one fluid motion, his hand reaching for my shoulder, to pull me back, “don’t. Something’s—not right. He seems—” his eyes narrowed, “off.”

He was right, I knew he was. But I also knew, with an unwavering clarity, that Darius wouldn’t hurt us.

At least not intentionally. And if he tried, I could teleport us out.

Still, he seemed to be almost in a trance, standing there, an icy chill emanating from him that had nothing to do with the patches of unmelted snow on the ground.

If not for the bonds, I’d think it was his twin brother, Claude.

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