by Linda Kage
I paused and squeezed my eyes closed, before slowly swiveling back around. “Well, can you blame me?” I said on a nervous laugh. “After… After that dream last night?”
The skin around his eyes crinkled, showing his confusion. Then he tipped his head to the side. “But it wasn’t our first sex dream.”
I laughed out a harsh, uncomfortable sound and glanced around the room, as if searching for something to help me stabilize myself, because I felt entirely unhinged. “Yes, but… Last night wasn’t just a sex dream. You can’t stand there and tell me it was like every other dream we’d shared before. It was…it was more. It was—” With no idea how to explain how it had completely rattled my foundation, I lifted my hands and sent him a desperate, pleading stare, and I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.
“Okay,” he finally relented with a single nod. “It was different. It was more. But—”
“No buts,” I cried. “It was wrong. That’s what it was. And it can never happen again. It took feelings and emotions and words and mixed them with touches and kisses and…and it...it was just too much, too wrong. It totally crossed a line.”
I whirled away to flee, but he leaped after me to touch my hand. He didn’t even try to grab it, he merely slipped his fingers briefly across the back of my palm. But it stopped me as if he’d tackled and pinned me to the floor.
I turned back to him, feeling wild and unbalanced. He lifted his hands in surrender and backed away, giving me space. He didn’t stop until nearly fifteen feet separated us. But even from that distance, his blue eyes looked worried. I tore my gaze away, feeling my entire body flush with embarrassment and hot memories and shame. God, this was so agonizing.
“My lady,” he said softly, causing me to meet his gaze. “It was just a dream. My dream,” he insisted. “Everything you did and said was because I wished it so. It was what I wanted from you.” Shaking his head, he said, “I know you haven’t given me some grand declaration of love. I know that. It was my dream. My pretend.”
I nodded and started to turn away without speaking, only to stop myself and then whirl back to him. “But I’ve never seen the Great Sea before.”
He shook his head slowly, clearly not understanding. “What?”
“I told you in my dream that I’d never seen the sea before. And that’s actually true. I haven’t even been outside Donnelly. All I know is desert and sand and the one oasis that is Mandalay. So, how did you know that if it was exclusively your dream? You didn’t know any of that outside the dream, did you?”
“No,” he said slowly, only to shrug. “But maybe I made that idea up in my head because I wanted to show you something you’d never seen before. I mean, sharing something with you that I thought was your first experience did make it more meaningful to me. So, it could’ve just been a coincidence that it really was your first view.”
“Maybe,” I murmured. “Or maybe we have more control in each other’s dreams than we originally thought.”
“I guess that’s possible,” he drew out slowly, studying my expression with a slight frown. “But why are you saying this as if it’s a bad thing?”
“Because it is,” I insisted. “Because if I had any kind of control in that dream, then...then the things I said to you, the things I felt for you…there might be some truth to them. And if there’s any truth to them, then…”
“Then you’re starting to fall for me,” he surmised quietly, his eyes flaring with instant pleasure.
I hissed out a harassed breath and pressed my hand to my brow. “But we can’t have that,” I muttered, shaking my head insistently. “We can’t have that.”
“Why not?” he asked, amusement littering his voice.
“Because!” I dropped my fingers to send him an incredulous glance. “That would have problems written all over it. We absolutely cannot be together, Urban. I’m not—”
“I know,” he muttered, sending me a moody scowl. “I know we can’t be together in the real world. But what’s the harm in letting it play out in our dreams? No one else knows about them, and it’s not like it’s really happening, so—”
“No!” I cried. “No.” Shaking my head, I pressed my hand to my chest. “Not even there is safe, anymore. It feels wrong.” When he frowned and opened his mouth to protest, I quickly added, “Last night was just too real. It feels as if I’m giving you some unfair false hope for something that could never be, and it…it’s making me a disloyal person.”
“Vienne,” he whispered, shaking his head and stepping toward me, but I held up a hand, and he paused.
“I know you’re going to repeat that it’s only a dream so we’re not really doing anything wrong, but I feel wrong.” Eyes glittering with tears, I shook my head. “In my heart, I’m being unfaithful.”
Because I wanted the dreams to be real.
His shoulders fell, and I watched the fight drain out of him. Agony entered his eyes as he bowed his head and nodded. “Okay, then,” he said in a suddenly hoarse voice. “What do we do to stop the dreams?”
“I don’t know.” My laugh was watery and hopeless as I looked up at the ceiling and then wiped the moisture from my eyes. “Is that even possible?”
He shrugged. “I always dream less after drinking too much ale. I suppose I could get drunk every night before bed.”
I laughed at his offer, though I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. I would never have him do such a thing. But the alternative was…there was no alternative. I’d probably still dream about lying in his arms, about growing closer to him, and I’d cherish every night of it.
Feeling the hopelessness of our situation weigh down on me, I hugged myself. “I wish…I wish…”
“You wish what, my lady?” He sounded closer, close enough to pull me into his arms and hold me through this pain, but I knew he was still many, many feet away, respectfully keeping his distance.
I turned my watery gaze to him. “I wish your mark was gone. I wish I could just claw it off your face so we wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore. So we didn’t have to hurt or hope for anything more.”
Except that wasn’t what I really wanted at all.
Urban studied me thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. “But the thing is, you don’t have the mark and you’re already experiencing some of the bond. So I don’t think this is the mark’s fault. I think… I think that if I were able to meet every woman in all the realms, and I got to know each of them to the best of my knowledge, the one I would choose after that, the one who could make me the happiest, would be you. The mark has merely cut out all the hard work of searching through every other woman out there and pointed you out directly to me. It didn’t make me fall in love with you. It just recognized you and made me infinitely aware of you so I’d pay attention to you and fall on my own. The rest is all on us.”
“But…” I threw up my hands, exasperated. “How? How in the world could a mere tattoo possibly know something like that?”
Shrugging, he chuckled. “I don’t know. It’s magic. The work of divine intervention. Something. I just know it works.”
I gaped in disbelief. “And… And you just trust that?”
He seemed too practical for such blind devotion.
“Sure. Why not?” His grin turned playful. “It seems spot on so far.”
“What?” I sputtered. “Did you just…” I shook my head, not sure I was hearing what I’d just heard. “You can’t really mean that. You don’t know me nearly well enough to be able to determine such a thing.”
His gaze heated as it moved over me, making me hot in the most private places. “But I’ve been paying attention. And it’s not wrong yet.”
“But that’s just… That’s… I don’t understand. Me? Out of all the women in all the realms? Why me? I’m not remarkable at all.”
“Not remarkable?” He stilled, moving nothing but his eyes, which he flashed to my face. A sudden sadness filled his gaze as if he felt sorry for me. “Then you’re not seeing what I s
ee.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I think I see plenty of myself. I know me better than you do, sir, and I am not—”
“No,” he said softly. “You’re too close. All you can focus on are the flaws and the fears and insecurities. Take a step back, my lady, back here from where I’m standing. Then you’ll be able to see the whole picture like you’ve never seen yourself before. Because I can see your insecurities and fears, too, the flaws you think you have. I see it all. The good and the bad. And those things you don’t like, that feel so significant and huge and insurmountable from up close… Well, from back here, they’re just little specks that can be brushed off with a flick of the finger, because the rest of you…” He nodded, sending me a slow smile of approval. “The rest of you far and beyond overshadows those murky spots. You are a good, caring, honest, and loyal woman. I do not believe my mark is wrong. You are where I belong.”
My heart nearly burst through my chest. I stared at him, with no idea how to react, no idea what to say. A fresh tear slid down my cheek.
“Vienne,” he whispered as if in pain. “Please, darling. Don’t cry.”
Just as he took a single step toward me, Caulder strode into the room. When he saw Urban and me, facing each other and standing nearly fifteen feet apart, he slowed to a stop, glancing suspiciously between us.
“What’re you two doing alone together?”
“It was quite by accident,” I rushed to assure him, quickly dashing my tear away. “Yasmin was here too, but she—” Realizing Yasmin had been trying to break faith with the very man before me, I gaped at him, too stunned to remember what I’d been saying.
Poor Caulder was a cuckold. The king. What would he do if he knew? How would the kingdom suffer?
“Yasmin,” he repeated, focusing on me. “Yes, I need her. Which way did she go?”
Urban was the one who pointed. “I believe she went that way, Your Majesty.”
“Very good. Thank you.” He started to trail after his wife, only to pause and motion between me and Urban. “And I don’t think it’s wise for you two to linger in any room alone together, not even one as open and public as this. I can certainly tell you weren’t getting into any mischief, but Soren wouldn’t if he’d been the one to stumble across you.” His gaze strayed meaningfully to me. “You know what I promised him if you ever broke your wedding vows, do you not?”
Wincing, I nodded. “Yes, I know.”
Narrowing his eyes, Urban stepped forward. “Well, I don’t know. What did you promise?”
Caulder glanced his way, drew in a breath and answered, “I promised my cousin your head on a pike.” Urban’s jaw tightened but he didn’t respond until the king added, “Plus Vienne’s exile from the castle… Away from her child. She could never have contact with Anniston again.”
“What?!” Urban finally roared in outrage. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t take her daughter from her.”
Caulder lifted a single eyebrow. “I’m the king. I can do whatever I want.”
Huffing out an aggravated breath, Urban growled, “But you must know she would never—”
“I do know,” Caulder answered, cutting him off. His eyes sliced my way. “I know exactly how honorable Vienne is. And that is why I had no problem making her husband such a promise. But…” He turned back to Urban. “I’m sure it would help if you didn’t try to tempt her away from her vows in the meanwhile.”
Urban bowed instantly…to me, not the king. “I won’t,” he promised. “I won’t let you lose your daughter. I swear it.” When he straightened, his gaze apologized for the situation we’d been put into.
I wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, he’d never forced my ass of a husband to come up with such a threatening ultimatum. But with the king standing between us, I feared saying anything. So, our gazes were forced to speak volumes in apology and regret before we simultaneously turned our backs to each other and departed the room, going in separate directions and leaving through separate exits.
And though no matter which way either of us went, I felt the distinct impression that a part of us stayed together.
That was the first time I felt the bond between us outside our dreams. And that’s when I really started to believe; I was his one true love, wasn’t I?
How remarkable.
Chapter 28
Urban
Vienne’s husband was a dick. Period.
I couldn’t believe he’d talked Caulder into making the promise of taking her baby from her for any reason. It pissed me off on all kinds of levels, not only because it insured our separation and put more undue stress and strain on her, but I had thought the king and his cousin would have more faith in her than that. My one true love was an honest, loyal woman. Fuck them for having any kind of doubt she wasn’t.
Though Vienne hadn’t thought I’d been serious about the ale, I did indeed imbibe every night before bed to avoid initiating as much dream sex as possible.
It sucked. Life dragged on. But all my dreams thus far had been tame and quite unremarkable. I kind of wanted to gouge myself in the gut with a spoon to bear sleep without them, but I couldn’t handle Vienne growing even more stressed or guilty because of them, so…I suffered through. They were only dreams, after all.
Except I missed them. And I think Vienne did too. For not even a week later, she fell asleep first, prompting a dream like none other. I swear, we did nothing but fuck in it the entire time, in every way imaginable.
It started out in the dining hall, innocent enough. Every royal was seated in our usual places, eating scorpion, when she glanced up and across the table directly at me. When I looked up as well and met her gaze, something overcame her. She swiped out her hand, shoving her meal off the table and out of her way so she could crawl up onto and right over her plate, then hop down onto the floor on the other side to stalk toward me, demanding, “Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”
My gaze showed surprise, a forkful of scorpion meat halfway to my mouth, when I answered, “I’ve been trying to be a good boy,” which in all honesty, was the truth.
But she answered, “I don’t want a good boy. I just want you.” And she climbed up onto the table in front of me, shoving my dinner out of her way so she could slide into my lap, straddling my hips and slam herself down onto my cock.
Of course, our clothes had already disappeared by that point and I slid right up inside her. And right there, in front of everyone, she took me, wild and free, bouncing on my lap until we both came with mad shouts of joy, while everyone else ate their supper around us as if nothing whatsoever interesting was going on between us.
Gripping my face hard between her hands, she told me, “You are mine. Mine, do you hear me? Stop trying to hide from that.”
“Yes, my lady,” I told her, still panting and settling down from my high. “I am yours completely. As you are mine.” Closing my eyes, I lifted my face to kiss her, but my lips only seemed to find hair.
When I opened my lashes, the dream had morphed to the Throne Room, where I had just buried my face into the hair at the back of her neck as I bent her over Caulder’s royal chair, lifted her skirt and took her from behind.
After that, I fucked her against the wall of clear rock in the East Salon, and then she spread me out on my back on the mattress in her bedchambers and climbed onto my lap. There were a couple other rooms we made love in, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, once in a loch in the forest outside the castle, once on top of the castle’s curtain wall under the cloudy sun. She even dreamed about us riding on the back of a dragon together as it flew through the skies while I kissed her madly and thrust up inside her.
She told me she never wanted to wake up and that she was happy with me. Agreeing wholeheartedly, I just kissed her and took her again, in some new, inventive way.
I woke the next morning with her erotic whispers still echoing in my ear. Soaked with sweat and exhausted from a marathon night of dream sex, I could only lie there a moment and smile up at my ceiling
, more satisfied than I could remember feeling in a long time.
That had been a good day. I trained with the men as I’d never trained before and felt alive and ready to tackle the world.
Until dinner that evening.
Vienne absolutely refused to even look at me across the banquet table. Her shoulders hunched over her food in misery, her face went pale, and her eyes turned sunken and haunted. I knew exactly why. She couldn’t stop remembering the dream of us together in this very room.
When she lurched to her feet halfway through the meal and asked Caulder if she could be excused, all the vigor and cheer I’d experienced that day died a bitter death. While I’d been having a glorious time after the dream, she’d been drenched in shame and remorse.
It seemed as if one of us couldn’t be happy without the other being miserable.
I refrained from spirits that night; it didn’t seem to matter if I drank myself to sleep or not. We were going to dream about each other no matter what. And it was going to tear her apart inside.
Unless…
I stayed up late, trying to avoid sleep altogether, because if one of us was awake, then we couldn’t share dreams at all, now could we? Maybe that was the answer; we’d just have to sleep at different times from here on out.
Except that didn’t work either. I tried my damnedest to stay alert and awake the entire night, but I drifted off at some point, only to jerk awake in the wee hours to my mate’s distress. At first, I thought I was stuck in one of her awful nightmares where that bitch of a headmistress at the girl’s school she’d attended would come in and beat her arms and the backs of her legs with a cane to “improve” her behavior.
I abhorred those dreams. That fucking academy they’d sent her to had been detestable. Every instructor had treated her like shit. I always wanted to climb out of her skin and start kicking ass when I saw what abuse she’d suffered, but I was helpless, forced to experience it with her as she relived the memories over and over again in her sleep.