16. Shya

Chapter sixteen

Shya

S leep was my only respite. Always, I would close my eyes and try to picture Mason's face, to remember his scent surrounding me, his touch when he stormed into my bedroom. I would hold on to that as I sank toward oblivion.

Tonight, though, there was no oblivion. Voices filtered in from outside the tent, weaving themselves into my dreams until I wasn't sure if they were real or not.

"This is dangerous." It was a voice I didn't recognize.

"I'm well aware of how dangerous it is. But it's not working. She is compliant, but only for food. I need her compliant in everything. I need her to see the real me. To love me, worship me." That one was definitely Tristan.

"Why do you want this so much? She's a female. You could have any female here. Click your fingers and they'll spread their legs for you. Why this one?"

"Because she was supposed to be mine! I worked on her for months. Months of my time to get her to see we were meant to be, and after all that, she still turned against me."

There was a slight pause, then the voice said, "Ah, so that's it. She said no. And you can't handle it."

"It's not like that! Yes, it will be sweet as fuck to see her on her knees begging for my cock, which she will, and I will enjoy the hell out of fucking that bitchy mouth of hers, but she's my ticket to the Bridgetown Pack. They'll accept me if she's hanging on every word I say. I'll be able to take it over and reshape it in less than a year. If I have to fight them every step of the fucking way, it will take at least three years before I can launch phase three."

"Three years is too long."

"You think I don't know that? That's why you have to do this. We have to speed this up."

Another long pause, then a sigh. "Alright. It will take time. This isn't an overnight fix."

"Just do it. I want her in my bed by the end of the month."

"You slipped the powder into her food?"

"I followed your instructions to the letter."

"Very well. You'll have your wish. By the end of the month, you'll be able to click your fingers, and this one will ask exactly how wide you want her to spread her legs."

I wanted to get up, to rip Tristan's fucking eyes out. What the hell was he planning? I would never spread my legs for him, would never be in his bed. I struggled to open my eyes, but sleep's arms had me caught tight and kept trying to drag me down.

Then the world around me shifted, the colors bleeding together, the edges blurring. I knew I was dreaming, and the bars of the cage fell away, the tent disappeared, and I was standing in a meadow. Next to me was a hooded figure. I assumed it was a he, given how tall he was, perhaps six feet, but I couldn't be sure as his face was obscured by a deep hood that cast shadows across his features. His cloak was simple, midnight black, and reached down past his ankles, but his hands emerged from the folds of the cloak as he gestured, showing a jagged scar that ran from his left wrist to the base of his thumb. It looked old, the tissue puckered and white against his tanned skin.

He started chanting in a language I couldn't understand. The words seemed to echo, to vibrate through my bones. It was eerie, unsettling. I wanted to run, to hide, but I couldn't move. I was stuck, frozen in place, and I could feel my heart rate spiking in panic. His voice as he chanted was deep and resonant, each syllable precise and measured, and I watched his breath misting in the air despite the warmth of the meadow. The mist seemed to take on a life of its own, coiling around us both like spectral tendrils. I shut my mouth with a click. There was no way I wanted to breathe that in.

Come.

My eyes swung to the left, and there, standing in the midst of this strange, hazy dreamscape, was a wolf. It was looking right at me, its eyes glowing an unearthly blue. I felt this pull, this connection. He was calling to me, and I knew as long as I kept my focus on him, I would be able to move.

Come.

Without thinking, I took a step toward him, then another. The chanting took on an urgent, angry tone, and the mist tried to pull me back, its tendrils grasping for me, but I shook them off; I kept my focus on the wolf and the wolf only. On my next step, the world around me seemed to warp and twist. The meadow evaporated like the steam from a river on a warm morning, and my foot hit sand. I blinked; I was in the middle of a desert. I took another step, and the desert disappeared, and I was in a city with skyscrapers towering above me. I took another step, and it changed again. Nothing made sense; nothing was real. Nothing except the wolf. He was my anchor, my guide, leading me deeper into my subconscious.

The wolf led me through this maze of dreams, the landscape shifting and changing with each step. Trees sprouted from the ground, only to melt into wisps of smoke moments later. The sky changed color from a deep, midnight blue to a fiery orange, then to a sickly green. But through it all, the wolf remained constant, a beacon of stability in this chaotic world.

Finally, after what felt like hours, we landed next to a river, its waters black and mirror-smooth. The wolf paused at the bank, then turned to look at me. His eyes seemed to pierce through me, to see into the depths of my soul.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

The wolf turned to look at the river.

"You want me to go in?"

He lay down, put his head on his paws, and sighed.

Okay, then.

I stepped into the river, expecting to feel the cold bite of the water. But instead, it was like stepping into a warm bath. I waded in, the water enveloping me, soothing away the aches and pains of my physical body. I felt weightless, free, all my troubles washed away by the gentle current.

And suddenly, Mason was there with me, standing in the middle of the river, the water swirling around his waist. Shirtless, his skin glowing with an inner light, the sight of him took my breath away.

"Shya," he said, his voice echoing through the dreamscape. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

He held out his hand, and without hesitation, I took it. His touch was electric, making me tremble. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me, and I melted into his embrace. It was like coming home, like finding a piece of myself that I hadn't even known was missing.

"I'm coming for you," he whispered into my hair. "No matter what it takes, no matter what I have to do, I will find you."

I clung to him, my face buried in his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. It was a promise, a vow. In that moment, I knew nothing would stop him. Not Tristan, not the cage, not even the vastness of the dream world.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both tender and fierce.

And as our lips met, the river itself seemed to come alive, pulsating with energy in time with our heartbeats, as if responding to the force of our connection. My hands slipped down his chest. He wasn't wearing pants, and my fingers traced the hard contours of his abdomen, their path mimicking the ebb and flow of the river around us. I trailed my hand lower and squeaked when I closed my fingers around his hard cock.

Fuck me, it was big!

I looked down; I just had to see it. It was the most beautiful cock I had ever seen, hard, smooth, glistening in the river water.

Eek! How was that supposed to fit inside me?

And then I didn't care. This was a dream, and if the meadow could evaporate, then this big, beautiful part of Mason would be able to fit anywhere I wanted it to. I grinned back up at Mason.

"Like what you see, princess?"

"Oh, yes!" I breathed.

A ripple of pleasure flickered across his face as I stroked him for the first time. He tilted his head back, lost in the sensation, and I took this as an invitation to explore further. I moved my hand up along the length of him, squeezed the top of his cock gently before slowly pumping my hand up and down, the water lapping against us.

Mason's eyes darkened, and his lips found mine in an urgent kiss, drowning out the rest of the world. His hand trailed down my side, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin despite the warmth of the water. His touch lingered at my hip, gently pressing as his fingers traced an intimate path across my body. With each touch, each caress, I craved him more.

"Shya," he gasped, his grip on my waist tightening. His eyes met mine, wide and yearning. I felt an answering urge inside me, a primal desire that was as much a part of me as the beating of my heart.

"Mason," I muttered, moving closer to him, feeling his heartbeat against mine. The river was no longer just water. It was our world, our haven away from everything else. Here, there was no danger, no cage, no Tristan, no starvation, or mind games. Here, it was just me and Mason.

With a swift motion, he lifted me up, our bodies aligning perfectly. My legs instinctively found their place around his waist, my body reacting to him on a level I barely understood. His dark hair was wet and slicked back from his forehead, and his eyes glowed with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. He was focused on me, solely on me, like there was nothing else in this world, only me. He cupped my face with one hand. "Are you sure?"

Would I be doing this if it wasn't a dream? Would I want to lose my virginity in a river? I had no idea. But I had never been more sure of anything in my life than that here and now, I wanted this, needed this. I nodded.

His eyes never left mine as he gently lowered my body down onto him. I gasped at the sudden invasion. There was a sharp spike of pain, but even that felt amazing. I forced myself to relax against him. And then pleasure like I had never felt before pulsed through me. My vibrators did not do justice to what this felt like. Feeling Mason push himself inside of me, filling every inch of me, felt divine.

His muscles tensed beneath me, and a groan rumbled deep in his chest.

"Fucking hell, princess, you feel so tight wrapped round my cock; it's fucking delicious," he moaned, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me closer as he started to move. The rhythm was slow, deliberate, his cock coming out of me completely before he thrust back inside. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him as the pleasure built, each wave stronger than the last.

His grip on my hips tightened as he buried himself even deeper inside me. My eyes fluttered shut as I surrendered completely to the sensation. The world felt distant and unreal. But Mason was very real; the feel of him inside me, the slick heat of his skin against mine. I was utterly lost in him, consumed by the intimacy of what we were doing.

His teeth nipped my neck, and I sucked in a breath. The tiny jolts of pain only added to my pleasure, and I tilted my head to give him more access. Mason's movements grew more desperate, and I matched them with my own. The intensity was building, each stroke bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

"Mason," I gasped out his name.

He leaned in, capturing my lips with his once again. His kiss was demanding, filled with heat and passion that was nearly overwhelming. His tongue danced with mine, exploring, possessing, driving me further toward the edge. His hands moved along my body, tracing desire-ridden paths that seared into my skin. My breasts hardened beneath the strokes of his thumb and finger, twirling and rolling my nipple, sending bolts of electricity coursing through me.

He thrust into me harder and faster now. It was all I could do to keep up with him. But I needed it. I needed him. "More," I begged. "Faster, Mason."

His eyes glowed with a predatory sort of satisfaction, and he picked up the pace, driving into me with a fervor that felt incredible. I clung to him, my nails biting into the muscles of his back. He groaned in response, his fingers tightening on my hips as he drove into me with a renewed ferocity. He was everywhere—in my mind, under my skin, filling every inch of me.

Each stroke of his cock hit exactly where I needed it, the feeling so intense that I thought I was going to explode. Then my climax hit me like a freight train, and I cried out.

"Yes," he growled into my ear, his voice ragged with desire. "That's it, princess."

He buried himself inside me one last time before he, too, found release. His own cry mixed with mine as he shuddered against me, his cock throbbing as he ejaculated inside of me.

His breath ghosted down my neck in hot pants as he leaned down and whispered raggedly, "You're mine, Shya. Don't forget that!"

In that moment, the dream shifted again, the river fading away until it was just the two of us, locked in an embrace that felt more real than anything in the waking world.

"Don't leave me!" I felt a surge of panic. I wanted to stay here, with Mason, forever.

He cupped the back of my neck and bent his head down so he was looking directly into my eyes. "Stay alive, Shya. I'm coming for you." He started to fade as he repeated his words, "I'm coming for you."

"No!" I cried out, trying to grab hold of him. But it was too late. He was gone, and I was alone again. Despair hit me in a wave. The thought of waking up back in that cage, starving and alone, made me want to scream.

I couldn't do it. Couldn't face that hell again.

So I didn't. I dove deeper into my own head, letting the dream swallow me whole. I could feel the real world trying to drag me back, but I fought it. Buried myself so deep that it faded to a whisper.

The dream changed, colors and shapes blurring until there was nothing. Just empty space. Peaceful, in a weird way. No cage, no hunger, no being alone.

I let go. Let myself drift in that void. Thoughts, memories, all of it faded. No fear, no pain, just … nothing.

I let the emptiness take me.