Page 12 of Lost in the Dark

Mahal

“Mahal? Can you hear me? Ms. Evangelista?”

The insistent tone of voice wakes me with a start. I know that voice. My mind is groggy. I feel like I have a hangover, caffeine withdrawal headache, and the flu all at once. “Artemisia? Why can’t I see anything?”

“Hush now,” Artemisia says. “You still have your sleep mask on. I would suggest keeping it on, though. The light is at its dimmest setting, but your eyes will be sensitive for quite some time, still.”

The silky feel of the mask underneath my hand is oddly comforting. Yes, that’s right. I’m at Somni doing a sleep study.

Relief and disappointment mingle within me, and I hate not knowing why I’m so disappointed. Did I really believe that I lived in a fantasy world where my whole life has been a computer simulation?

I take the mask off of my face and massage my temples, anticipating the transition between total darkness and dim lighting. I blink the fuzziness from my eyes and try focusing.

Instead of the discreet medical spa facilities I expected, I wake to a lavish bedroom suite. Piles of blankets, pillows, and other soft things adorn the room. “Where am I?”

I jump when Artemisia answers me. I had forgotten she’s here. “They moved you from the facility to your personal suite.”

I freeze when I’m finally able to focus on Artemisia. She is not the same woman that helped me before. First, she’s blue. Second, she has wings.

“Holy gods, am I still dreaming?” I snap.

Startled mid-speech, Artemisia fumbles her tidying. “Oh! I apologize Mahal. I thought you knew? The neural process should be complete, but sometimes it takes a bit for the mind to comprehend what your body already knows to be true.”

I know it’s rude to stare agog at a person, but words have escaped me.

“Let me get your mate. Commander Vox will be so pleased to know that you’re awake.” Artemisia put down the place setting she was working on, and backs away from the room, leaving me alone with my shock.

Shower. A shower will feel nice.

I drag myself into the shower, leaving my clothes where they drop. Thank goodness the controls are straightforward. I grasp the cold water controls and let the spray cool off my heated skin.

I sink to the floor, propping myself up against the cool tile.

Much better. It’s so much easier to think now. What the hell is wrong with me? Is this all a hallucination from a fever dream?

I no longer wear a watch, so it can’t be that I’m still being monitored for my sleep study. Why am I so tired then?

After a few attempts at turning off the water, I decide it’s not worth it and just close my eyes. I’ll get out, eventually.

As if I manifest it, someone lifts me out of the shower. The muscular arms, powerful chest, and the blue-gray cast of skin are familiar along with the runes that I trace along his body. I rub my face against him and revel in his clean and masculine scent.

A rumbling purr vibrates beneath my cheek, and I answer it with a contented sigh of my own. “Vox?” I ask, sleep heavy in my voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes, my sweet soul. It is.”

I tilt my head back, working my eyes open to verify his identity. Black, curling horns. Blue skin with gold markings. Cheekbones that can cut glass. The set of his jaw and line of his lips are more serious than I remember, and I want to make him smile.

I trace his bottom lip with the pad of my index finger. His black tongue darts out to lick it. Golden fire dances in his eyes.

“There’s the smile,” I say.

He takes my hand and kisses my wrist. Pleasure darts between my pulse point and core as if they are the same. “You are sick, and need rest,” he says.

I want to wipe away the worry from his brow. “I’m fine, and will continue to be fine. Besides, I recall something about you promising to take care of me for the rest of our lives.”

With a growl, he crushes me to his body into a searing kiss. He breaks apart from me, kissing all over my face as I gasp for breath. “I’ve been so worried. It’s been days since the ordeal in the ark and the hallways. Days of not knowing if you’ll ever wake.”

I know that what he says is important and confirms that the things that I’ve experienced were real. But none of those things matter right now. All I know is that he wants me, and I want him. My skin aches for more of his touch. I need to feel him against me, inside of him.

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