25. I Want to be Hers

twenty-five

I Want to be Hers

Rainer

A sweet, romantic scent fills my nostrils. It doesn’t take long to realize I’m dreaming. As soon as I spot the whimsical blue roses, I groan. I looked forward to my dreams for a short period, expecting to see the grey-eyed girl who gave me a reason to sleep and dream.

Lately, sleeping has been a genuine nightmare.

I’m tired of it, but I’m used to it at this point in my life.

Instead of fighting it, I lie back on the ground and close my eyes. The sun warms my skin, but it’s only a matter of time until the illusion shatters.

Sure enough, the sun fades out moments later, and shadows blanket my eyelids.

“Rainer?”

“No,” I groan. The worst nightmares are always the ones with her .

“No? Am I interrupting?”

My eyes flick open. Alessia stands over me, glancing down with a confused smile. The sun hovers in the blue sky behind her, casting light like a halo around her curly ash-blonde hair.

I blink a few times, unable to speak.

“What are you doing down there?” she asks.

Instead of judging me, she drops down beside me .

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you here,” I whisper, taking in the beautiful sight before me. My breathing stalls, and suddenly I'm afraid to move—as if I'll scare her away and be left alone again.

She's here.

My heart skips a beat, fluttering in my chest.

We lie with our arms brushing, gazing up at the sky together. Fluffy white clouds skim across the sky in various shapes.

“I know,” she says quietly. “Have you slept okay?”

Not one bit. “Well enough.”

“You’re lying.”

“I'll sleep great tonight,” I say in quick rebuttal. "You're here now."

“I’m here.” She reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers. I turn to face her, wanting to memorize this moment. It's been too long since we've had time in our dreamscape together. She watches the clouds, her face lighting up. She points with her free hand. “That one looks like a cat.”

“Mhm,” I agree, without bothering to look at it.

She glances at me shyly and scrunches her nose. “Why are you staring at me?” A light pink dusting coats the apples of her cheeks.

I can’t help but chuckle. She had my cock in her mouth not too long ago, yet something as innocent as me looking at her makes her blush.

She sits up, swatting playfully at me. “You make me nervous. Knock it off.”

“Make me,” I tease.

Her bashfulness morphs into a coy smile, and she lifts a brow in challenge. In one swift move, she throws a leg over me, straddling me in the grass .

Immediately, I’m taken back to the time she indulged in moonberries and expressed her desires aloud for what seemed to be the first time.

Her eyes sparkle with lust as they lock onto my lips. I can’t help my body’s natural response, and I’m instantly aroused, my cock hardening beneath her. I reach up, gripping her bare thighs. She’s only wearing a thin nightgown, which rides up with the movement.

I glance down, catching more skin than I expected. The air whooshes out of my lungs, and all the blood in my head shoots downward.

I groan, lifting her skirt a little higher to reveal her bare beneath the fabric.

“You’re not wearing underthings,” I say hoarsely.

She giggles, pushing me back down and leaning in closer to my lips. “Do you like that?” Her voice is husky, thick with lust.

I’m seconds away from undoing my pants and freeing myself. I want nothing more than to nestle into her slick, tight opening—to feel her clamp around me as I pump into her. I’ve envisioned it far too many times, abusing my hand these past few months.

My chest rises and falls violently as I battle to keep my wits about me.

“I love that,” I growl. My fingers tighten around her thighs, biting into the flesh there. She gasps, squirming against me. “But we can’t—not like this.”

Her brows flick up in surprise, and her mouth drops open. “Rainer… really?”

“The first time I have you, Alessia, will not be in a dream. It will not be in a tent with my brother lying less than a stone’s throw away. ”

Her blush returns, this time in embarrassment, as she mutters a non-apology and pushes herself off of me.

“Wait,” I reach for her, pulling back into my lap as I sit up. I pull her back to my chest and wrap my arms around her. Fighting to ignore my painfully hard and demanding erection, I focus on the scent of her—sweet and tempting.

Feck.

It doesn’t help.

I close my eyes, taking a few steadying breaths. Think about anything else—Kenisius’s fur in my mouth, Tynan’s sweaty balls, Yvanthia bonding me—

That does it. The blood returns to my brain as my cock deflates, the desire calming down.

“You kill me,” I groan into Alessia’s ear, resting my chin on her shoulder. She giggles, settling into me. It’s a battle not to get excited all over again.

But the thoughts reminded me of something—the bond .

“You realize if we have sex in our dreams, it very well might complete the soul-bond,” I tell her. “When I fed on you in my dream...”

She exhales long and slow. “It carried over into waking life.”

“We have to be careful, mo róisín.”

“But what if we do complete it, Rainer. What if we just give into the—”

A gust of wind blasts into us, sending our hair tangling around our heads. Alessia screeches as the world goes dark. Thunder crashes around us, and the dreamscape erupts.

I shoot out of my cot, ready for violence. Whatever interrupted such a beautiful feckin dream is going to pay .

Ezamae stands before me with a manic look. His usually styled silver hair is askew, and dark bags line his wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I roar, glaring at the one responsible for waking us.

Alessia yawns, sitting up and looking at us. The early glimmers of dawn peek through the tent, highlighting the flush on her cheeks. Tynan’s cot is unmade, and he’s nowhere to be found.

“What’s going on?” Alessia asks, frowning at Ezamae. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured it out,” he says quickly. His hand cups his mouth as he stifles a short laugh. When he releases it, he smiles widely at us. “I know how to break the bond to Yvanthia.”

The world around me fades away as I lock onto his words. “How?”

His smile grows, highlighting his uncharacteristically wild appearance. “Soul-bonds trump magically placed bonds. It doesn’t matter if she’s queen, Yvanthia’s bond isn’t as powerful as yours will be.” He points to Alessia and me.

“Explain,” I demand.

“I don’t have time. Yvanthia doesn’t know I’m here. The fecking cunt.” He laughs, shaking his head. “She’s a cunt . Wow, that feels delightful.” His laughter grows, and he does a gleeful dance, waving at us. “I must go now, but I’ll return.”

The air wavers around him, and he’s gone as quickly as he appeared.

“What was that about?” Alessia asks, wide-eyed as she clutches the blanket to her chest. “Is he high or something?”

That was a rather strange interaction, yes, but I don’t think he’s under the influence of anything. I scratch the back of my neck. The fact that Ezamae windwalked all the way here… across the Gleam and through another realm. It’s a sign of great power—as in he’s accessing the full spectrum of magic he hasn’t been able to.

On top of that? He spoke poorly—freely—of Yvanthia.

Her bond and glamour no longer restrict him.

Curious, indeed.

“What are you thinking?” Alessia asks. She tugs on my arm. “Rainer, talk to me.”

I chuckle, swiping a hand over my face. “I think…” My amusement grows as I process the pieces to the puzzle, and I chuckle harder, plopping down on the cot beside Alessia. “I think Ezamae is soul-bonded.”

“ What ?” she yells, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “How? To who?”

“I don’t know.” I snort, finding the whole thing rather absurd, but how else would he so confidently know that a soul-bond overcomes a magic-bond? How else would he have been able to windwalk all this way unless he broke his bond with Yvanthia?

“Rainer,” Alessia says softly this time. “You know what this means?”

Her voice has an air of hope, but it instantly brings me back to reality. There is absolutely no way I’m consummating the bond with her now. Because I know her, and I know she’ll do it before she’s ready, just to free me from Yvanthia’s clutches.

The thought sends a searing pain through my chest.

Good hell.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I say coldly. Carefully, I pry myself from the cot and stand. I run a hand through my hair and shake my head. Walking toward the tent’s exit, I pause, looking back as I say, “It doesn’t change anything. We are not going through with it.”

Her face falls as she blinks at me, trying to get a read on me. I turn away before she can.

There’s no way I’m letting her do this now—not if I’m worried she’s making this decision for anything other than her own pleasure. I won’t let her tether her life to mine to spare me from Yvanthia’s clutches.

As I storm away from the tent, a violent anger courses through me. Fecking Ezamae. I want to punch him again—bruise his pretty face—for breaking the news in front of Alessia.

But then again, she has a right to know. It involves her, after all.

And as much as I want her to be mine forever, this isn’t what I meant. This is us being forced into something, and it feels awfully like stealing a bit of Alessia’s freedom, which I abhor.

Furthermore, I can’t risk tethering her life to mine. If something were to happen to me… no . I refuse to increase the risk to Alessia’s life.

No matter how desperately I want to be hers.