Chapter 12

Twelve

WESLEY

T he shriveling forest and oil slick ooze surrounded me. My heart pounded in terror. Death and destruction creeping in with a rising chill that made my breath mist and skin prickle with the pain of a thousand needles.

It had all been a dream, hadn’t it? Escaping the Winter realm and finding a forest with cool nights and warm days, all a fantasy. My soul ached. I didn’t want to run anymore. I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I dropped to my knees, sinking to the ground to let the dark come. The end would be better than this nightmare continuing.

Decades of hiding myself, keeping close to power, no matter the consequences, hadn’t ended the nightmare. The Summer King taught me running wouldn’t work, and now I knew nothing would. My fate inescapable.

The slime inched forward, a gurgle of noise sounding like a stomach digesting bad burritos. Cold burned my skin. I covered my head, curling up into a ball like a child protecting itself from the boogeyman simply wanting it all to end, and too tired to fight anymore.

Someone cursed and it wasn’t me. Arms wrapped around me, picking me up, and for a half second I thought to struggle, fearing the world’s ooze developed human features. But warmth projected through me where we touched, and heat draped itself over me, as though protecting me from the cold. The grip firm, but gentle, held me up and ran, as if we could outpace the slime through distance alone.

I blinked open my eyes, thinking I’d wake back in the ice palace, but found myself locked in the forest of ooze with Finn using his body to protect me. His back to the slime, he ran, but got nowhere, the dark curse too fast. He sucked in a deep, pained breath as it touched him, but kept himself between the ooze and me.

It couldn’t be real. How was he in my dream?

“Finn?” I gasped out his name, horrified at the bubbling slime that crawled up his back as if to swallow him whole, while he kept himself between the nightmare and me. I flailed. The dream burst and the lamp in the corner lit up as I jolted up in bed, shivering with cold and terror, fearing Finn would be gone, eaten by the world.

He sat up on his makeshift mat, blinking wide eyes and staring at me. His heartbeat as rapid as mine.

“Sorry,” I said, my hand pressed to my chest as though I could will my fear away, thinking my nightmare had woken him. “Bad dream.”

“What was that?” Finn asked. “The world devoured by an oil slick?”

I blinked at him. He couldn’t have… there was no way he would have… how could he have been in my dreams with me? “What?”

He got up and picked up his blankets, carefully spreading them out on top of me. “You’re freezing. Take these.”

“Finn,” I said, clutching the edge of the blankets, terror still raw.

“Kitty friend has vanished,” he remarked as he sat on the edge of the bed. Heat projected off of him as it often did the Summer King. I longed to wrap myself in the warmth and let the bite of ice fade.

“Tell me about your dream,” I demanded.

“We were surrounded by dark goo that ate everything it touched. You stopped, sank to the ground and didn’t move. At first, I thought you were hurt.”

“You can’t have the same dream I did.”

“It’s not a fae thing?” he asked. He glanced around the room. “Because we’re in this place?”

Maybe. I hugged myself, pressing back in the bed until I touched the wall, unable to stop the shivering.

He lifted the blankets, making to slide in with me.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“You’re freezing. I run hot, remember? Let me get you warm. It’s the middle of the night. Your kitty friend isn’t here to keep you warm.”

“I can add more wood to the fire.” Except I’d used all the sticks I’d gathered. I stared at him, heat radiating even from where he sat. No kidding about running warm. “Fine. But keep your hands to yourself.”

He held up his hands in an ‘I’m-harmless gesture,’ then picked up the blanket edge and slid in. The warmth instantly soaked through the blankets and into me. I couldn’t help my sigh. The bed was far too small for two grown men.

My heart pounded, though as he settled in, keeping barely an inch between us on the tiny bed, my terror dripped away. The memory of our kiss made me want to roll over and sample him again. It was all too simple. Finn appearing in this world. The two of us shoved together by fate. It was like some sort of twisted fairytale.

“Who are you?” I asked again, wondering why he’d been chosen. “Did your friends get stuck here too and we haven’t found them?”

“I wandered for a while,” Finn said. “You’re the only other person I’ve seen.”

I chewed on that thought for a while. “Straight guys don’t sleep in the same bed,” I muttered more to myself than him, thinking that felt off. A lot of things did. How could Finn be so accepting of the fae world? Of learning I was fae? Why wasn’t he running terrified that maybe I was the ghost wolf in another form?

“Yeah? Guess that means you’re not straight, eh?” He didn’t open his eyes, and his heartbeat had returned to normal.

“I was talking about you.”

“Never said I was straight, and you kissed me, remember?” Finn said. “Not like you asked. I consider myself an equal opportunity guy.” He let out a long breath. “What I am, right this minute, is really sleepy. Are you warm enough? I can feel a chill coming off you.” He scooted closer, but I pressed my hand to his stomach, keeping him away. His body radiated warmth I longed to soak up.

“You kissed me back,” I said, hating the idea that I’d forced him to kiss me, and I sort of had.

“I did. It was nice.”

“Nice…”

“More than nice. Not a lot of guys like to kiss. You kissed like you do.”

I took that as consent and let the guilt seep away as sleep tugged at me. “No more nightmares,” I whispered. Hoping for a break from the dark.

“I’m with you on that, Princess,” he muttered.

I’d have argued his pet name but fell asleep before a coherent thought formed.