Page 112 of Beautiful Prey

Slowly, I turned to face him, straining my arm to lift his even a little so I could move freely. His eyes were shut tight, his face contorted in pain. He trembled.

I put my arm around him, gently petting his back.

“Emery,” I whispered. “It’s okay. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

He whimpered again, inhaling through clenched teeth. “Don’t,” he hissed. “Don’t go.” His face pressed into my chest, pulling me close again.

I brushed a hand through his hair. So, I wasn’t alone in my nightmares.

Eventually the trembling subsided as did the soft cries coming from him. He grew still and quiet and I thought he might have fallen back into dreamless sleep when his arm moved and his hand gripped me tight, his face lifting from my chest.

Eve,” he choked out. “Are you really here?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I said.

He let out a slow breath. He blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with where he was. “They took her,” he said. “They took her away and she never came back. I was so alone.”

My lips tightened. Nina.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand. She got away. She got above,” he mumbled. “Then they took her from me. She was gone for so long until she came to visit. But…only in my dreams.” He shifted beside me. “She stuck around so I wouldn’t be alone. She stays near and whispers to me.”

“I know.”

He didn’t say much after; he searched around the dark until his eyes caught mine. He watched me with a half-lidded gaze.

“I’m in deep water and you’re the moon,” he whispered. “You know that?”

I didn’t know what he meant exactly, but I nodded anyway.

He blinked a few times, and the glazed look disappeared. His hand trailed along my ribs, down to my hip. “You sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I did.”

“I didn’t bother you too much?”

“No.”

“Good.” He drew me closer, his arm encircling me, his leg crossing with mine. “I think I slept better than I have in years with you next to me.”

My brows furrowed against his chest. “But you were just…”

“What?”

“You don’t remember the dream you just had?”

He paused as if thinking. “No.” he said after a moment. “Not really. I don’t remember most of them, thankfully. Guess I learned to shut them out after so long.”

“You said that before, I must have forgotten.” I stirred a little against him, remembering something else. “Emery…do you remember you also said you had a dream, when we first met? You said it grew into a story in your head. That you thought about it often?”

He shifted. “Yes.” he breathed. “Fuck, I…I’d let it slip away when I thought that you…”

He didn’t say it, but I knew. When he had been in a murderous rage to get to me.

“What was it?” I asked. “The dream.”

He held me tighter. “It was this.”

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