Page 90 of When the Woods Go Silent

It’s no wonder the magic has been outlawed, but who is here to catch me?

I let my dream-self touch dream-Ruby, fascinated with how our real bodies are several feet apart in her room, yet I can still feel the ghost of her touch. Her dream world is foggy and dark as she arches up to meet me, her breasts spilling from the tiny lace bralette she wears. I wonder if she has one like this in her closet. The magic lets me feel the whisper of her fingers on my real body as she tugs the shirt away from my dream self, and I marvel again at the power of this magic, that can make an illusion feel so real.

I want to make her feel so much.

I let her undress me, and I do the same to her in the dream, playing along with the torturous pacing. Even in sleep, she goes slowly. But finally, we’re naked in the hazy moonlight of her mind, and I spread her thighs, my thumb on her clit as I sink deep inside her.

The heat of her body meets the ice of mine like a cataclysm. She moans, and I hear the sound echo in her bedroom, too.

“Ruby,” I whisper, and I no longer know which one of me is speaking. Her legs wrap my waist as she raises her hips, grindingagainst me, the inner muscles of her pussy squeezing the length of my cock. I draw out slowly to the tip, and she whimpers, tightening her thighs around me until I plunge back down, pinning her to the dark forest floor.

Again and again we separate and meet, the flush growing on her cheeks as her body heats to a level I can barely touch.

I feel myself melting for her, and I hate it.

My hands twist in her hair, and I take control of the dream, imagining myself pounding harder into her, demanding the dominance that can bring me back to myself.

A soft cry reaches my ears as she comes around me in the dream, her thighs shaking as I rut against her. It takes me too many seconds to realize the cry didn’t come from the dream, but from Ruby herself. A huge effort is needed to pull myself from her dream world and focus my mind on the room where we really are, and when I manage it, I press my hands against my eyes, scrubbing away the lingering magic and trying to bring myself back to the darkness of her bedroom.

Fuck, that was almost too real.

The room even smells of sex, and as I move to stand over her sleeping form, I realize Ruby’s dream orgasm was real. Her cheeks are pink, her lips wet. Her legs press together under the light blanket as her breathing slows. Even with my cock fucking aching to make the dream a reality, I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face.

This pretty little human belongs to me now.

I watch her a while longer, letting her sleep cycles pass until she dreams again. I could force her into one, of course, but using the magic against her body is a good way to ruin her mind. And I quite like that devious midnight creature she keeps inside.

I wonder if I tell her what I am in a dream, if she would screw up the courage to ask me about it in real life. It’s only a matter oftime, now that Rose is being shown fae magic. These two share everything.

The thought sobers me. My magic is just as powerful as Kier’s, but gobbelins are very different from fae. Ruby wants magic to be real, but I doubt she’s imagined all the different kinds of magic that Haret contains. Will she still want mine, when she sees what other magic she could choose?

My temper surges as I imagine her preferring the glittering fae court over me.

What do I really have to offer her, in the face of all that luxury and spectacle? Gobbelins live like warriors, not kings. Ruby is a romantic. She would want to be a princess of the forest, not one of dark caves and mountains made of ice.

The thought of her choosing a fucking fae over me brings all of my magic to a head, both gobbelin ice and fae fire. Her bedroom floor heats, even while the windows crystallize with frost.

Ruby stirs, and I struggle to rein in the magic. This certainly isn’t how I want her to see it. See me. Out of control and incensed with anger. I bite it all down, clamping an iron will over my temper. And it works, until I senseher.

Ruby is beginning to dream again, and the sweet musk of dreamwalker magic is filtering through the bedroom.

This time, it isn’t mine.

I dive into Ruby’s dream, finding myself back in the forest. But Ruby is different now. She’s a child, chasing a glittering woman through the trees, laughing and calling for the magic to see her, to wait for her.

Ice and rage shoot through my mind as I understand.

Julianna was here.Ishere, right now.

Something stirs in Ruby’s bedroom, and I yank myself from the dream. Ruby is sitting up in bed, her eyes open and glassy. I watch in growing horror as she swings her legs over the side ofthe bed, stepping carefully over her shoes and scattered items as she moves toward the door.

The dreamwalker magic pulses around her, pulling her gently along like filaments of silver. If I wake Ruby now, her mind could splinter. If I enter her dream again, Julianna will see me there, and meddle to find out why. I can’t let her have that leverage.

The only way out of this now is to find Julianna, wherever she’s casting her magic, and stop her there.

I dodge around Ruby as she steps lightly toward the stairs, rushing to get ahead of her and into the forest. I don’t know why my mother is trying to draw Ruby to her, but I have to stop her now. I speed through the forest, tracking the ice and floral sweetness of the woman I hate most in the two worlds.

All the while, trying desperately to think of how to stop her, without giving away my own interest in Ruby.

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