Page 72 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

A weight is on my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the pieces that I have. It’s a puzzle that I’m trying to solve blind. I slowly sink down to my knees, black spots flashing over my vision.

“I can’t breathe,” I mumble.

Caleb stops beside me, squatting. “Hey.”

“I think I’m h-having a p-panic attack.”

He touches my back, rubbing small circles. It doesn’t help. Nice isn’t helping.

I’m gasping for air at this point. My heart is pounding out of my chest.

“Margo.” Caleb’s voice breaks through the fog. Barely. “Look at me.”

I can’t really see anything except for the ground between my knees.

He tugs my hand away from my head—when did I grab my head?—and pinches my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Breathe.”

A whole damn waterfall of grief and confusion is thundering down on me. It’s the realization that my nightmares have been real. Caleb will never be nice, or tell me the truth, unless I give him something in return. My parents are gone.

He lifts me suddenly, cradling me to his chest, and starts walking. I suck in short gasps as he rounds the house, setting me down on the hood of his car. And then he cups my face with both of his hands and presses his lips to mine.

I can’t respond—shock, the panic—until he bites my lower lip. The pain wakes me up.

I gasp against his mouth.

My horror falls away. The panic ebbs. I wrap myself around him, my legs around his hips, my hands on his biceps.

God, what kind of demon is he?

He pulls away, smirking at me. His hands are still on my face, gently holding my cheeks. It’s a nice act, except for the smirk—which seems to grow wider while my face heats.

He drops his hands from my face, and I release his biceps. We stare at each other for a second. He’s perfectly composed, the bastard. My lungs ache like I just ran a marathon.

He pats the bottom of my thighs, winking at me. “You want to stay here?”

Slowly, I lower my legs and slide off the hood of his car. “We’re going to be late.”

“So?”

I snort. “So, I was hoping to slip in undetected…”

He’s grins. It’s like he’s established that I’m okay—well, not on the verge of passing out, anyway—and we’re back to where we started.

“There’s no such thing as undetected when you’re with me.”

“Oh, come on.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You think people wouldn’t notice me walk in to one of the biggest games of the year?”

“Hold up,” I say, raising my hands. “Biggest game of the year?”

He unlocks his car. “Well, yeah. It’s against Lion’s Head. Our biggest rival… number one in the division… You don’t pay attention, do you?”

I huff. “I’ve been too busy being mocked and tripped at school for people to talk to me.”

“Eh. Well, everyone is going to be there.”

I swallow.

---