Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(81)

Before I knew it, he was gone. Whoosh.

I heard the garage door go up, the Porsche roared to life and then the garage door went back down.

The entire time I sat there, not knowing what to do or how to feel, especially about the fact that he just gave me another weird, but extraordinary, compliment.

What I did know was that I, again, managed to screw things up. Even though I thought I was doing the right thing for myself, for my family, for Lucien even.

What I also knew was that I really, really needed to call my Mom.

Shakily, I got up and left the fried chicken, the pulverized wine glass and that’s exactly what I did.

Chapter Thirteen

The Dream

I finally understood.

As my head lifted, my legs slid open, his h*ps fell between and my arms wrapped around him tight as if they’d never let go.

And I never wanted to let him go.

Never. Not for eternity.

My mouth sought his ear.

“I understand,” I whispered, the budding beauty of it flowing through me.

Lucien’s tongue swept across the wound where he was feeding.

His head came up, his beautiful eyes boring into mine, his blazing with triumph and searing into me like a brand.

His hands moved to my hips, lifting, his mouth came down on mine in a bruising, possessive kiss and he filled me.

Through his claiming thrusts, my mouth against his, I breathed lovingly, “I’m yours.”

* * * * *

“Leah.”

Hands were on me, my lover’s hands but they weren’t touching me in a loverly way.

“Leah, wake up.”

* * * * *

“Say it again,” Lucien snarled but I’d lost track.

I was so full of him; I’d never been so filled. It was beautiful, so beautiful I started crying.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his hand in my hair pulling my head back, not gently, the pain mingled with the pleasure of his claiming.

“I’m yours,” I whispered, my eyes focusing on his. “Only yours. Always.”

* * * * *

I was rolled, I felt weight on me, a hand on my arm shaking me.

“Leah, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”

* * * * *

He melted away. He wasn’t inside me anymore. My arms held nothing.

Everything went black.

The loss of him was immense. I felt it through to my soul.

Fear filled me and I screamed.

* * * * *

“Leah, wake up!”

* * * * *

They were burning him.

And they were hanging me.

The sentence for his crime was to watch my death before his own.

My eyes were riveted to him as the flames curled around his powerful body.

I felt the noose go around my neck.

I love you, I whispered to his mind.

* * * * *

The hand shaking me stilled but the fingers curled, biting into my arm.

* * * * *

I watched his eyes close, not with the pain of the flames with a different kind of pain.

I closed my own.

I love you too, sweetling. I heard his voice in my head.

My heart took flight.

Then the trapdoor fell out from beneath my feet.

* * * * *

I came awake with a jerk and a cry, yanking away from Lucien’s warm, heavy body, my own prepared to flee. From what, I didn’t know.

I had my feet to the floor when an arm hooked around my waist and I was lifted up, back into the bed. Lucien curled me into his body, cradled in his arms. His back was to the headboard, I was in his lap.

I melted into him.

In all this bizarreness, the most bizarre of all was that I was trembling like a leaf and bawling like a baby.

“Ho… ho… holy crap,” I whispered, my voice hitching. My arms were around him, holding tightly and I didn’t let go as I kept right on blubbering.

One of his arms left me and I felt his hand stroking my hair.

“Holy crap,” I repeated, this time without the hitch. I burrowed closer, not knowing why, just that I needed to get close, as close as I could.

I actually needed it. I needed to feel his warm, hard, big body surrounding me, keeping me safe.

“It’s all right, Leah, you’ve just had a bad dream,” Lucien murmured to the top of my head.

Was that what happened?

I didn’t remember. I just remembered the terror.

And the sorrow.

No, not just the sorrow. The loss and the sorrow.

“Holy crap,” I whispered again, a fresh batch of tears overflowing, this time silently.

“Shh, sweetheart, it was just a dream,” Lucien soothed gently, his words stirring my hair.

I burrowed deeper as the tears flowed. He held me and I held him back.

Finally, after I had control, I said quietly, “I don’t remember.”

His hand left my hair and his arm wrapped around my upper back, his long fingers curling around my shoulder.

It was then everything came crashing back to me.

Not the dream. Lucien and the wineglass incident. My body tensed and when it did so did his arms. My eyes took in what I could see, which wasn’t much, mostly his throat in the dark.

“You’re here,” I said stupidly.

“Where else would I be?”

I didn’t know. He seemed pretty pissed when he left. I didn’t expect in a million years he’d come back at all much less hold me tenderly after I had a bad dream.