Deadly Dreams (Fortuna Sworn Book 3)

by K. J. Sutton

  Feeling the need to move, I walked out of the kitchen. My footsteps echoed through the still space. My eyes flitted over the elegant furniture that Collith had so painstakingly chosen. The wooden floor gleamed from the lights overhead, and I thought of the hours he had spent on his knees, creating something beautiful out of something damaged. After a few seconds, I came to the hallway and faced the rows of doors. I didn’t see them, not really—my mind was too busy, too full.

  But none of it mattered. Not when I already knew what I wanted. What I’d been wanting for weeks now, and hadn’t been able to acknowledge, because being a Nightmare didn’t make me immune to fears. And this was probably the most terrifying thing I’d ever done.

  With a deep breath, I turned back to Collith and held out my hand. “Would you like to lay down in our bed? Maybe get a little more sleep?”

  His eyes flickered at those words. Our bed. The Unseelie King didn’t answer, but his fingers curled around mine. Once again, I was surprised by their roughness. I had always viewed faeries as a useless species, too arrogant or disciplined enough to work with their hands. Collith was proof that I’d been wrong.

  Wrong about everything.

  As we went down the hallway together, my heart beat so loudly I knew he could hear it. Collith’s hazel eyes kept flicking between mine, but I couldn’t read his expression. It was impossible to think when it felt like I had touched a live wire, and every part of me was electrified. I walked backward into the room Collith had made for us. He released one of my hands to close the door. The sound it made seemed to rival the noise of my heart. He ran his palms down my arms, and a shiver wracked my entire body.

  Before it had finished its course, Collith lowered his head and kissed me. It was a gentle, questioning kiss. I answered by opening my mouth to his. He made a surprised, pleased sound deep in his throat that my body instantly responded to.

  Consumed by the taste of him, my hand crept down his body. I found what I was looking for and stroked it through the denim. Collith pulled away and groaned. His forehead rested on my shoulder. Tension shivered around us. Slowly, he turned and pressed his mouth against the side of my neck. For a few seconds, his lips sucked and teased, stoking the flames inside me.

  Then he bit me, hard, into the tender flesh where shoulder and neck met. I gasped with pleasure. It shouldn’t have surprised me, really—however good he was, at his core, Collith was still fae. He’d always have a streak of wickedness.

  When he first kissed me, I’d wanted to take our time. Explore each other and reveal ourselves slowly. But as soon as Collith’s teeth marked me, those intentions dissipated like smoke. Deepening our kiss, I reached down with both hands and undid the button and zipper of his jeans. Collith responded by pulling my shirt up, and we parted for an instant as it went over my head. His lips came down on mine again, and we walked toward the bed, moving in perfect tandem. Somehow, his shirt came off, too. My core tightened at the sensation of his cool, bare skin beneath my palms. Another pair of jeans joined the ones on the floor. Our heavy breathing filled the stillness. My hands tugged at Collith’s briefs while he unclasped my bra.

  It was the feel of his hands on my breasts that made me pull away. I stared up at him and struggled against the memory edging in like a knife.

  Despite my obvious fear, Collith didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes on my face as he sank to the bed and leaned back on his elbows. A slant of light fell across him. Every thought I had quieted, like the hush of an awed crowd. For a moment or two, I just stood there, unabashedly staring at his ridged stomach and his long, hard length. He was the epitome of male beauty… and he was mine.

  At some point during my admiring, the fear had gone away. I moved onto the bed and put my knees on either side of him, taking control again. Collith looked up at me, his gaze dark with desire. My core throbbed in response. I watched his lips part as I sank down and he slid completely inside. Slowly, I started rolling my hips. Collith’s groan sent a rush of heat through me, and I went faster.

  In the midst of our rhythm, I felt Collith’s calloused hands cup my backside, but he didn’t guide me or change the pace I’d set. As always, this was my choice. I was calling the shots. I was about to throw my head back when the tip of Collith’s cock brushed against the perfect spot. A breathy moan left me, and I moved my hips even harder. A familiar sensation began to build in my lower stomach. My cries became guttural, like he’d awakened something feral in me, something that could no longer be caged. Collith hit that spot, again and again, stoking the flames. They spread through me. An instant after I reached my climax, so did he. Collith came with a low, male sound that sent more shivers up my spine.

  Afterward, we faced each other on the bed, naked and glistening with sweat. Both of us breathed hard. I felt like a mess, my hair a sticky tangle against my neck and cheeks. I desperately wanted to shower. But I wanted to stay more, facing him, admiring the curve of his face lit by lamplight. God, he smelled good. He was glittering with perspiration, yet his scent was intoxicating. It sent a fresh surge of heat through me.

  “I’m fairly certain you have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen,” Collith said softly, just as I was considering whether or not to climb on top of him again. A lock of hair fell into his eyes, and the way he looked at me made it impossible to move.

  Right on cue, my usual cynicism kicked in. That’s just my abilities as a Nightmare affecting you. I opened my mouth to say the thought out loud, then I remembered that Collith saw my true face. He’d seen it from the very beginning.

  Something inside me fluttered. I clutched my pillow tighter. “I didn’t realize I was,” was all I said.

  Collith must have heard something in my voice—a slight line deepened between his brows. He studied me for what felt like the thousandth time, and as always, it felt like he could see every secret as though they were written on my skin. I didn’t know what to say, and I was about to escape to the bathroom when he asked, “What makes you happy?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean? Like, my hobbies?”

  “I want to know what will make you smile again,” he clarified.

  “Well, there is one thing that always does. Have you ever had a dog rest its head in your hand? That makes me happy.” My mind wandered, thinking of other moments that had brought some kind of joy throughout this painful life of mine. A soft smile curved my lips. “Waking up to sunlight, instead of an alarm clock. The feel of a warm coffee mug against my palm. Coming to the end of a long drive. Cuddling with my new cat. Hearing one of my loved ones laugh. And… you. You make me happy.”

  I spoke this last part softly, feeling yet another pang of apprehension as I said them. Collith was silent. He just stared at me with a light in his eyes that I couldn’t define. Dismay? Uncertainty? Pity? Warmth began to spread through my cheeks. “What makes you happy?” I asked quickly, desperate to move past the moment.

  Instead of answering, the Unseelie King cupped the back of my neck and pulled me toward him. The taste of his tongue consumed me and cleared my mind, somehow. It had been adoration in his eyes, not uncertainty. Strange how fear could twist reality against you, make you question your own instincts.

  And as Collith claimed me with his hands and his mouth, I realized that I’d gotten an answer, after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The following night, my hope was that I’d sleep so hard, I wouldn’t have any dreams or arrive at the dreamscape. But I made the mistake of allowing myself to think as I drifted off. Tossing and turning over Gwyn’s prediction, Mercy’s vision, the hollowness in Oliver’s eyes as he asked me if I’d fucked another man.

  Mom used to say that carrying my worries to bed meant I’d carry them right into my dreams, and as with most things, she was right.

  I opened my eyes, heavy with reluctance, and my heart sank when I saw that I was back in the dreamscape. The clouds overhead looked ominous and gray, which happened only when Oliver and I had an urge to dance in the rain. The fact it was
happening now, in spite of his absence, seemed unnatural. Like something had broken when he left.

  Thunder boomed across the plains. The wind slammed into me, so cold that it felt like the air carried pinpricks of ice. I was wearing what I’d fallen asleep in—yoga pants and a long-sleeved shirt. No socks or shoes. I looked at the cottage, knowing it would be the smart choice. But the thought of being in that space without Oliver was unbearable. I could already imagine the loneliness of it, a place devoid of conversation or the soft sounds of companionship. Instead, I started toward the cliffs, heading right into the danger. It felt like giving Oliver the middle finger. You’re not really gone. You wouldn’t just leave like that, and I’ll prove it. If you no longer exist in this world, then the lightning has no reason to spare me.

  Thankfully, my feet had gone numb, and I felt no pain as I reached the drop where Oliver had stood so many times. The sea waited below, lapping against the rocks. The water had lost its welcoming loveliness and transformed into something forebodingly beautiful. Like whatever lurked in those depths no longer had to hide.

  But the sea didn’t hold my attention long—seconds after I stopped at the edge, a strange pattern of light shone across the world. I lifted my head and frowned at the horizon. There were bright, fragmented lines spreading in every direction, breaking up the roiling clouds. I’d never seen them before, here or anywhere else. I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation. There were none.

  As I watched the lines spread, revealing a strange blend of galaxies and sunset on the other side, it became painfully clear this was no storm. The dreamscape is coming apart, I realized with a creeping sense of horror. I turned, following the progress of those star-filled fissures.

  Something else moved in the distance. A tall, familiar figure with golden hair. He was walking away, his back to me. Joy expanded in my chest and I rushed toward him without thinking, his name rising to my lips. I was on the verge of saying it, hopefully stopping Oliver in his tracks, when a random burst of sunlight fell upon him. I caught sight of a winged shadow on the ground and reared back, a scream hurtling up my throat.

  Oliver was wrong. The shadow hadn’t left the dreamscape with its maker.

  And now I was completely alone with it.

  Before I could take another step, the sky cracked open—there was no other way to describe it. Rain hit the ground, almost violent in the din it made. Pieces of colorful twilight fell, crashing to the ground with such force that it exploded. I went flying, and I slammed into the tree that Oliver and I had created countless memories beneath. Pain vibrated down my spine.

  There was no time to acknowledge it—the shadow had noticed me now. Its face twisted in dark, naked want. It started running in my direction with the mindless grace of a predator. Breathing hard, I scrambled up and bolted, unintentionally moving away from the cottage and the sea. I didn’t have a plan or a single thought in my head, only panic and instinct. Water poured into my eyes and the ground was already slick with mud, but I didn’t slow or hesitate.

  The shadow moved even faster than last time, and I didn’t register it was on me until too late.

  It grabbed my arm with iron fingers, and my choices were to swing around or lose the arm. Just as I lost my footing and nearly stumbled into the shadow’s chest, I saw something else move in my peripheral vision. Too late, I raised my hand in an attempt to block it—the rock in the shadow’s fist collided with my skull.

  Pain crackled through me and the ground rushed upward. Everything went dark, then I was blinking at the chaotic mass that used to be a peaceful sky. Lightning flashed, brightening the dreamscape like a strobe light. The shadow’s face appeared over mine, etched into an impatient scowl. I couldn’t speak or think about anything beyond the throbbing in my head. The shadow bent down and lifted me as though I weighed nothing. Like a dripping painting, the colors of the dreamscape blended together. An acrid taste filled my mouth. I made a strange sound, something between a groan and a croak, and the shadow shifted in such a way that I knew it was about to throw me over its shoulder.

  “No… don’t…” I managed just before it did exactly that. Vomit surged through my body and spewed into the grass, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. The shadow didn’t even falter.

  I was too weak to struggle, even when the creature threw me down. I didn’t feel the landing—darkness hovered at the edges of my vision, and I welcomed it. It meant I would wake up on the other side of reality and live to fight another day.

  To my dismay, the darkness retreated instead, and the real world danced just out of reach. Time for Plan B, then. I pried my eyes open, knowing the shadow was probably near. Nausea immediately rocked through me and I slammed them back shut. I focused on breathing, gradual inhales and deep exhales. Once it was safe to try again, I opened my eyes, more slowly this time.

  I was in the cottage. Wind howled against the windows and walls, but they seemed to be holding. There were random objects floating in the air, though, signaling that the dreamscape was still coming undone. An unused paintbrush drifted over me just as the shadow finished securing both my ankles to the bedposts. Why did it keep tying me up?

  All at once, I realized what it was trying to do, what it had been trying to do the first chance it got—Oliver’s shadow wanted me to stay. Inside this creature’s rudimentary mind, if it restrained me, I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. All I had to do was wake myself up and I’d be out of its reach. If that didn’t work, I just had to lay here until morning. I’d been through much worse.

  But then the shadow reached for my wrist, a rope dangling from its fingers, and my delicate thread of control snapped. I grabbed the back of its neck, tucked my chin, and smashed the shadow’s face with the crown of my head. It tumbled to the floor, more surprised than hurt, I thought. Seizing my chance, I dove for the ropes around my ankles and frantically yanked at the knots.

  The shadow didn’t try to stop me. It got to its feet, swaying slightly, and went into the kitchen. I got my right leg free and started on the left. I could hear the shadow rummaging in cupboards and drawers. What the hell is it looking for? The knots felt looser. My efforts grew more frenzied.

  The shadow must’ve found what it was looking for—it went still and stared down into a drawer. I was so panicked that my breath came in gasps. One of the knots wouldn’t cooperate. I started scraping at it with my nails, and when that didn’t work, I wrenched my leg with whatever strength I had left. The rope came loose as the shadow finally turned around, and something in its hand caught the light. When I realized it was a knife, time seemed to slow.

  “You’re part of Oliver, so I know you don’t want to hurt me,” I told the creature calmly, holding out my hands. I spoke in the same tone I’d used with the fox. Low and soft, with a slight lilt. The shadow cocked its head and took a step closer. The movement sent a jolt of panic through me. Without thinking, I moved my legs to the side and stood up. The shadow didn’t like that—it hissed and came at me like an enormous bat.

  I reacted purely on instinct, throwing my hand out just as Dad taught me when I was eight years old. The shadow collided into it, and I heard something crunch. The sound that came out of its mouth, a combination of pain and rage, was far more disarming. The shadow stumbled away, holding its face. Adrenaline coursed through me, pushing out the pain, and suddenly I could think clearly again. This creature could feel fear, I’d seen it. I may not have tried Lyari’s theory out on Gwyn… but there was nothing to stop me from trying now. There was no time to for hesitation. In the next breath, I closed my eyes and delved into its mind.

  Silence. Untainted, beautiful silence. I could no longer hear the walls of the cottage, moaning in the wind, or the unnatural shuffling sound the shadow made instead of footsteps. I moved forward, wanting to be in the most hidden part of this thing’s mind. The secret places, the dark corners, these were where everyone hid anything worth finding.

  It was also where everyone was their most vulnerable.

 
I’d just stepped into a darker patch of smoke when pain ripped through me. I left the shadow’s mind so violently that an instant headache took hold. But I barely noticed it—I was too busy staring down at the knife sticking out of my stomach. Shock roared in my ears. The heat radiating from the wound was like nothing I’d experienced before. It felt like I was on fire.

  Slowly, I lifted my head. The shadow and I stared at each other, and I saw my betrayed expression reflected back in those eerily familiar eyes. Oliver had made it seem like his shadow would never harm me. No, that wasn’t all he’d told me, was it? I struggled to remember his exact words. It’s like an animal—its instincts are primal, he had said.

  I attacked it, and the shadow had defended itself.

  Now I knew that it was willing to draw blood. It was willing to inflict suffering. I wasn’t interested in finding out what else Oliver’s shadow was capable of.

  I was about to run when the room tipped. No, that was me tipping. I fell to the floor in a graceless heap, and the movement made the knife go deeper inside me. I gasped—the pain was a star-bright burst in my head, making me blind to everything else—and reached for the hilt instinctively. No, wait. You don’t want to do that. If the knife was removed, I would bleed out. I was cold now. Why was I so cold?

  The shadow knelt beside me, and once again, ropes materialized in its hands. As it started looping them around my wrists, the rest of my body shook. I knew I needed to wake up. What if I died here? Would I die in my world, too? The rules of the dreamscape were changing, and whatever happened now could affect reality. I wasn’t in a gambling mood. Ignoring another burst of pain, I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself back to consciousness. I felt the shadow securing a rope around my ankles. Just as I had with Oliver, I repeated the words to myself. Wake up, wake up, wake up.