Page 64 of Far from Destined

She came again, this time moving a pillow over her face. I grinned, licking and eating my fill.

Afterward, I cleaned us up and unlocked the door before slipping on my jeans. She slid on her pajamas.

“Should I go back to the guest room?” I asked, unsure of what I wanted the answer to be.

“He’s already seen you wake up beside me twice. Maybe you should go grab your pajamas and come back.”

I looked up then, wondering what I might see, but the mask of Dakota’s fear was right back in place.

I nodded, knowing we didn’t need answers just yet. We could take this slowly, even as we were careful.

I grabbed my pajamas, slid them on, did my best not to worry about tomorrow, and then slipped back into bed next to her, holding her close.

She fell asleep first, and I listened to the sounds of her breathing before it lulled me to surrender.

I should’ve remembered that I did not get happily ever afters.

I didn’t get peace.

I should’ve remembered that my nightmares were real.

I had lived them, and they were not letting go.

Chapter 15

Dakota

The groan woke me,pulling me from my dreams of heat and Macon. I turned over, only to sit up sharply as I looked over at the man next to me in bed. He tossed and turned, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw gritted so tightly I was afraid he might crack a molar.

I didn’t know whether to wake him or let him sleep through the nightmare. I knew you weren’t supposed to wake sleepwalkers, and I always tried to wake Joshua out of his bad dreams—but this seemed like a night terror.

Would trying to help make it worse?

When Macon whimpered and whispered Cross’s name, I knew I needed to wake him up. I soothingly put my hand on his shoulder. “Macon. Baby. Wake up. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re okay.”

He didn’t wake. Instead, he thrashed again, sweat covering his body and the sheets.

Tension slid through me, and I bit my lip. “Macon.”

He sat up, his fist coming at me. I ducked, but I needn’t have bothered. He stopped his motion before he got even close to me. His eyes went wide as he stared as if not seeing me until he blinked.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay? Did I get you?” His voice was gruff as if he had been screaming in his dreams and had somehow ravaged his throat.

I let out a breath and then tentatively put my hand on his cheek. He flinched, and my heart broke just a little. But then he leaned into the touch and let out a breath.

“Dakota. Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head, grateful for the light coming through the curtains so he could see me. “You didn’t even touch me, Macon. You weren’t close to me. I promise. I was afraid to wake you in case something happened, but when you kept thrashing, I knew I needed to pull you out of your dreams. You’re safe. I’m only sorry I startled you.” My pulse continued to race, but not out of fear that he’d have hit me coming out of his nightmare, but because there was nothing I could do to make them go away completely.

“Jesus, Dakota. I could’ve hurt you.”

I kept my hands on him, needing to anchor myself as much as he did. “But you didn’t. You’re the one who was hurting. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We both know that sometimes nightmares don’t need to be spoken aloud.”

Macon stared at me, blinking away his sleep, or perhaps the nightmare he struggled to pull himself away from completely. “I don’t know what I was dreaming. Not really. But they’re usually the same each time.”

I kept my hand on his face and his chest, needing to touch him and know that he was whole. I hoped maybe he needed my touch, as well.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.