27

D ane Dalton can suck my imaginary dick.

I mean it. If I had one, it would be freakishly big, deadly thick, made of sandpaper, with blades poking out from every angle, and I would make him suck it until he begged me with his eyes to stop.

Then I’d watch him bleed to death.

An exaggerated sigh brings me back to the present as Dane pinches the bridge of his nose. “I really hate that I can hear what you’re saying in your mind. Sometimes it’s funny, but other times I think there is something genuinely wrong with you. Did you hit your head one of the times you tried to escape?”

He dodges a candle I throw at his face.

“And you’re violent. I think you forget I could stop your heart without even looking at you.”

“Shut up, asshole. If you ever want to pass mortal studies, then stop being a douche and actually pay attention.”

“So moody,” he muses, narrowing his eyes at me. “Was your first day back at classes not to your liking?”

My eye twitches as I look down at my notes. “I was distracted.”

He hums, lifting the textbook on electronics. He really needs to soak up the information like a sponge. The guy knows nothing about humans. I nearly died when he said he had no idea what a TV was—or a gaming console for that matter. So, since he can’t attend any classes but is still being forced to take his tests in the dungeons, I’ve agreed to help him.

But when I made an appearance in class yesterday, I couldn’t focus. I had a headache, and all I kept thinking about was the night before.

When he siphoned the curse, it overwhelmed us both and we dropped onto the floor in a heap. A connection formed between us, and Dane reached out to me and pulled me into his mind. Everywhere was blurry, dreamlike, echoes around us, and each breath in and out of my lungs felt fake. I initially panicked, but he kept his hand in mine as he pulled me through the corridor of his tower.

I followed him into his room, all hazy and full of fog. I could hear soft moans coming from the bathroom and gasped when I saw us both, the real us, collapsing to the floor with my hand on his cock and his fingers touching me.

There was a burning sensation on my hands, and when I looked down, the black veins were twirling around my fingers and up my wrists.

Dane told me to watch, to focus on us.

I could feel it all, and the intensity of pain mixing with pleasure had me screwing my eyes shut. My thighs clenched, and my lungs tightened from a wave of euphoria hitting me just as my true self began to writhe beneath the real Dane.

We were ghosts watching ourselves, and I got turned on by it.

I kept my eyes closed, desperate for release, to go back to my real body and feel it in the flesh. To tell Dane to finish the tasks, regardless of how dangerous it would be.

“Open your eyes, human,” he ordered me, and when I did, he came up from behind and held my nape, his other hand a ghost on my hip. “Watch what I do to you.”

We were dragged from the dream the moment the guards burst into the room, and a vortex of white pulled me back to my own body, where we lay on my bedroom floor, panting, the curse seeping into Dane’s sweating skin.

He lifted me into bed, told me to sleep, and that he’d see me later.

I could still feel it all as if it just happened, as if the back and forth of our orgasms were still vibrating like a wire between us.

The echoes of his orgasm are still zapping through my every nerve ending now, setting them alight whenever the images come to mind. His touch and taste and the way his eyes glazed over when he shoved his cum inside me are permanently etched into my mind.

Since the night I levitated in the air and fucked myself with my own hand, with Dane’s voice in my ear, I’ve been feral.

Earlier, when the world around me went silent, a coiling sensation bloomed down low. My nipples tightened, my thighs clenched uncontrollably with the need for friction, and a building pleasure had me standing from my seat in the class I was in and excusing myself for the rest of the lesson.

I hurried to my room, lay in bed with my hands fisting the sheets, and tried to work out why I was still feeling the after-effects of Dane Dalton. I wanted to slide my fingers between my legs and hear his voice telling me what to do.

Distant. A growled-out whisper. An order. A plea.

But instead of giving myself pleasure, I showered with frigid water, went to my next class, and tried to ignore the ache.

It kept happening randomly throughout the day. The need for touch. Just before he came to see me, I was concentrating in my last class, writing a paper on different animals in the mortal realm, when I felt a wet stroke against my cleavage. My knee smacked my desk as I jolted, and every student stared at me while I tried not to make it obvious that I was instantly aroused.

I glanced down, seeing a shadow wrapping around my thigh, and I just knew what it was and who was doing it. But despite him being locked away in the dungeons and only able to see me twice a day, it’s like a part of him is with me all the time, lingering, teasing, doing what he can to drive me insane.

It’s been over a week since Dane was arrested, and no one has mentioned it. The twins are the only ones who ask if I know what’s happening, but Dane told me not to tell anyone that he can reach me.

If the academy finds out, then there’s a chance they might use a barricading spell on him until his trial, and I won't be able to slow down the curse on my own.

Simply, I’ll die if Dane gets caught sneaking into my room.

So, yeah, it’s been over seven days of everyone pretending life is normal, going to classes and laughing and making sure all their homework is completed on time while I walk around wearing gloves to hide the deadly staining. Not once has anyone spoken about the brutal killing of a student or the fact that Dane, the popular heir who everyone bows down to, has been absent from each lesson. And not once have I been able to sleep without feeling like something is missing, without the urge to leave my room and go to him when he returns to his cell.

I look up from my notes, watching his forest-green eyes flit left to right as he reads. His lashes are so dark and thick, matching his brows. I won’t tell him, and I’ll shut my mind off while I think about it, but I saw him in my dream last night.

When I closed my eyes, I was smaller, younger, my voice gentle, grinning with excitement when I saw him hiding behind one of the stone pillars. A younger version of the prince of shadows. Around sixteen. A tall, white-haired boy with a smile that could light up the sky.

My family was staying in the kingdom for a few days. We’d snuck around after dark, away from prying eyes.

I remember the softness of his hand as he held mine while we ran through the tunnels beneath his father’s castle. I don’t know how I knew it was his father’s castle—I just did. Everything looked familiar, comfortable, like home.

And I’m surprised at how much those thoughts don’t scare me.

We’d giggle, then I screamed and laughed as he picked me up and carried me to our secret spot under the tree. We’d cradle each other among blankets, where I’d trace his growing tattoos and kiss his lips, watching the sunrise, only to separate again when we returned to our kingdoms.

Quite strange that my mind conjures up these crazy scenarios, considering Dane is anything but the cute, charming boy from my dreams. He’s rough and ruthless, and doesn’t hesitate to scowl at me and snap back at my attitude.

He’s aggressive and has a thing for trying to drown people.

Hell, I think if we were in a sword fight, he’d pin me down with the blade to my throat and make me surrender by begging for mercy, then make me crawl back to where I came from.

Not that I ever would.

I don’t remember the name of the street I live on.

Strange.

He must be getting beat up or abused in some way because he hasn’t been able to heal himself, and he has a gash on his cheek, a cut lip, and bruising around his neck, as if someone tried to strangle him with a large metal chain.

I did try to ask what happened when he materialized in here and fell into my wall, but apparently I’ve to stay out of his business and focus on my own problems.

“Okay, so. First question. Who invented the television?”

Dane glares at me. “What kind of fucking question is that?”

“A relevant one.”

“Disney,” he answers, quirking a brow, pleased with himself. “Walter Disney.”

I bellow a laugh. “Are you serious?”

He sags on a huff. “Do all mortals know the answer?” he asks, his jaw ticking as his patience wears thin. We have nine questions left, and I have a feeling he’s going to get all of them wrong.

“Well, most do. Do you at least know the year it was invented?”

His tone deepens. “Your voice is annoying me.”

He ducks when I toss a pen at him.

I shriek as he grabs my ankle and tugs me across the bed. I kick him and move away, and he shakes his head. “Stop throwing shit at me.”

I roll my eyes and put distance between us again. “You said my voice was annoying.”

His shoulder raises lazily as he lifts his own notebook, probably full of stick men of him killing me. “It is annoying.”

“Four inventors were involved in creating the first television,” I say, reading and making sure I have the correct names because I really don’t know the right answer. “It was first demonstrated in 19.”

“Stupid,” he says with a scoff. “There isn’t a chance that all humans know that. Ask me something else. Something important.”

I smile to myself. “Who’s the better singer… Billie Eilish or Taylor Swift?”

“Who?”

I toss down my book. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Dane chews on his lip, pressing the tip of his pen to his temple. “Here’s a question for you then, mortal. What happened to the Shadow Realm?”

“This is for the mortal studies test.”

“Answer the question.”

I frown. “How am I supposed to know?”

“You’ve been studying me and my world enough—surely you have an idea.”

I try not to stare at his bottom lip, which he’s holding between his teeth, or the lone lock that’s fallen in his eyes. “It was destroyed.”

“When?”

I shrug. “I assume it was a while ago?”

“Five hundred and seventy years ago,” he says, leaning back on his elbows on the bed in front of me. “Give or take a year. I’ve lost track.”

“Why didn’t you just teleport to the Mortal Realm instead of doing this school thing?”

He stares at me for a second. “Jumping between realms is an extremely rare occurrence. Only the most powerful are capable. I’d die if I even attempted to do it.”

“There are immortals here that are more powerful than you?” I ask, tilting my head.

He scoffs. “Of course not.”

“How was I brought here then?”

Dane stares at me for a long moment. “Power linking. If we combine our powers, then it’s possible, but again, rare. Whoever took you must’ve linked. Unless they used a portal, which isn’t safe.”

I flatten my lips and think back to that day I was taken. “Whoever took me drew runes or something on my wall and a sort of hole opened. Is that not the same as jumping between realms?”

“No. Portals aren’t the same, but have the same outcome,” he replies, dropping his gaze for a second. “Is there a reason you’re asking all these questions?”

“Do you know who kidnapped me?”

“No.” Dane tilts his head, gesturing to my book. “Ask me the next question.”

“You’re just going to change the subject?”

“Yes. This is more important.” He sits up and leans forward, placing my book back in my hand. “You don’t want me to fail, do you?”

I lower the open pages. “One more off-subject question. What did Valin do to me?” I ask, chewing my lip and looking at the words in my textbook. “You never told me, just that he took me and that’s it.”

“He didn’t hurt you. He removed your memories and planted a new one there in its place. Almost generic.”

“But why ? Why did he take me?” I ask, looking back up at him and curling my legs beneath me.

Dane sighs and drops his book, giving up on the questions. “Valin thinks you belong to him after one taste. He’s delusional. I’ll deal with him once I get out.”

I snort. “Why would I belong to him? I’ve never been near Valin for him to get a taste.”

For a second, Dane seems stuck on words. He clears his throat and gets off the bed. “You don’t need to lie to me. There have been multiple occasions where you were alone together.”

Fucking multiple , he says in his head as he fixes his tie.

“Although jealousy on you is catching me off guard, I’ve never as much as kissed Valin.”

“Jealousy.” He scoffs, cracking his neck to one side then the other. “Kneel,” he says, gesturing to me to rise to his height from the bed. “Let’s get this over with.”

I do as he says with a scowl on my face. He wraps his fingers around my wrists, and I take the opportunity to sink my nails into his skin. “Stop being such a dick to me for no reason.”

Dane glares at me. “Do you need to be so fucking violent?” he hisses.

I tip my chin. “Yes.”

He clicks his jaw, tightening his hold on my wrists and tugging me forward on my knees. “I’m starting to think you actually want me to kill you.”

I snort. “I’m seeing that word very differently now.”

I’d kill you if I fucked you.

A long silence, a slow blink, and then he says, “Meaning?”

“How exactly would you kill me?” I ask, tilting my head, a lock of brown hair falling in my face. “An ax to the gut? A ball of lightning to the chest? Maybe properly drowning me?” My eyes light up, and I see amusement in him.

Dane fights a smirk, leaning closer as he pulls me to the edge of the bed on my knees, until I feel his breath on my face. “I have imagined your death in many ways, mortal. But not quite like that.”

“I hate you.”

“You really don’t,” he counters.

“I saw you kill me once,” I say, and his hold falters on my wrists as he looks at me with shock. I keep going. “I was on a stone altar-type thing, and you stabbed me with a knife.”

“Quite imaginative, mortal.”

“The Blade of the Gods.”

Dane’s body freezes, his eyes widening. “How do you know about that?”

“I told you. I saw it in my dreams. You stabbed me with it.”

“What else do you know about the blade?”

“Nothing at all. What does it mean?” I ask. “The dream?”

But then I scream as he abruptly siphons the curse pumping through my veins. I fall into his chest, panting, but neither of us lets go as his entire body goes stiff against me.

My head drops onto his shoulder, and he does everything he can to bear my weight as he takes the burning blood, the dark poison transferring to him.

My eyes close, and my body grows tired and limp.

Wake up. You need to be awake for this to work.

I open my eyes—they’re watering and stinging with pressure behind them. Lifting my head, I look at Dane, who has blood dripping from one of his nostrils, his forehead pressed to mine.

Stay awake.

Keep your eyes on me.

Push through it.

Ten more seconds.

I feel it the moment the last string of the curse is plucked from my soul, and as my body gives in to the exhaustion, Dane manages to catch me and drag me onto the bed, where his own body gives up, and he passes out beside me.