Page 38 of Blood Freed

My limbs feel weighted with lead; the simple act of removing my shoes feels impossible. The bed beneath me is almost too soft after days on that cold cell floor.

Another gentle probe from Mia sends cracks splintering through my defenses. I grit my teeth, reinforcing the barrier even as exhaustion pulls at me. The effort makes my head pound.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

The room grows hazy around the edges. Shadows stretch and dance across the walls, making strange shapes as my eyes grow heavy. Still, I feel her there, waiting. Patient. Persistent.

My grip on consciousness begins to slip as the line between waking and dreaming blurs. It gets hard to work out what is real and what is not. Images flash behind my closed eyes – her face through the barrier in that warded room, the way her fingers felt twined with mine, the surge of power when our lips met.

No. Have to keep her safe. Have to…

But exhaustion wins. The walls crumble as sleep claims me, and I feel Mia’s consciousness rush in like a tide…

The red mist materializes before I fully register that I’m dreaming. No – not dreaming. This is more.

I’m on my feet, the room fading around me. The haze coalesces, taking shape, and there she stands. Mia. Mia in a white cotton dress, looking like the answer to all of my prayers.

“Soren!” Her voice is broken as she rushes to me. “Oh, my God!” Her arms slide around my waist as she presses herself against me. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.”

For a moment, I just stand there, letting the sensations soak into me. Her warmth, her fragrance, the softness of her skin.

“Mia,” I murmur, lowering my face and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

God, she feels good.

But this is wrong. “No,” I say firmly, pulling away. She clings to me, resisting when I try to pry her hands loose from behind me.

“Don’t do this, Soren,” she says, her jaw set. “I won’t let you.”

“It’s not up to you, Mia. I told you to leave me.” It rips a hole in my heart as I pull free from her grasp and push her away. But there isn’t pain in her eyes when I do it. Just determination.

“I know what you’re doing, Soren Daire, and I’m telling you now that it’s not going to work. You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” I mutter.

“People are working to help you,” Mia says, her eyes blazing with that stubborn fire I know so well. “But you’re making everything harder with this ridiculous confession.”

I step back, keeping my voice cold. “There’s nothing ridiculous about it. I orchestrated the whole thing.”

“Stop lying!” She advances on me, jabbing a finger into my chest. “I was there, remember? I know exactly what happened.”

“You know what I wanted you to see.” I fight to get the lies out. “Everything was calculated, Mia. Every interaction, every moment—”

Her lips crash into mine, cutting off my protests. The crimson mist around us intensifies, thickening until it feels like we’re standing in the heart of a ruby. Her kiss is desperate, demanding, trying to break through my walls. For a moment, I’m lost in it – the softness of her mouth, the heat of her body pressed against mine.

I wrench myself away, stumbling back. The movement makes my head spin. Something’s different. The mist… I blink, trying to focus. Crimson tendrils writhe about her like living smoke, curling around her arms, threading through her hair. They pulse with a strange, hypnotic rhythm.

“What—?” I start to ask, but she’s already moving toward me again.

Her lips find mine once more, and this time, my resistance crumbles. The crimson mist pulses around us, matching the thundering of my heart. Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling me closer, and memories of our last night together flood my mind – the way she arched beneath me, her breathless sighs, the perfect fit of her body against mine.

It’s just a dream,a treacherous voice whispers in my head.What harm can it do?

I groan against her mouth, arms wrapping around her waist. She tastes like magic and starlight, intoxicating as ever. The mist coils around us both now, binding us together as her hands slide under my shirt, tracing the muscles of my back.

“Mia,” I breathe, nipping kisses down her neck. She tilts her head, offering better access, and the scent of her skin makes my head spin. My fangs ache with need.

“Don’t fight this,” she murmurs, pressing closer. “Don’t fightus.”

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