Page 89 of Infernal Secrets

“Uh huh,” I said, dragging the words out, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest.

“You were having a nightmare, and I wanted to make it better because you helped me.” His blue eyes met mine, raw with emotion. My eyes widened, realization chasing away my discomfort. “Do you understand now?”

“You mean everything we did was a dream?”

He nodded, lips pressed into a tight frown.

Looking past my injury and confusion, I realized my tights and panties were still intact.

“So you entered my dream and…”

“No.”

I looked up at him.

“With dreams, I can only suggest a dream of something you already desire. I can’t force you to dream of something you don’t already want.”

My mouth dropped open, and my gaze jumped to Ash.

He lifted his hands as if he had no idea.

I looked at Zeke. “So that really wasn’t you?”

“Whatever you saw, it was what your subconscious wanted you to see. A dream.”

A dream… I wondered how the real Zeke might have acted.

I shook the thought away, almost laughing at the ridiculous notion he’d ever be interested in me sexually.

He’s not human, my brain reminded me.

But in truth, species didn’t matter—I avoided hookups with humans as well.

“And you know what I dreamed about?”

He licked his lips, swallowing hard, cheeks flushing.

Oh, my god. “How?”

“I was there,” he mumbled.

“I’m so confused.” I winced when another pain went through my leg.

Ash sat down in front of us, drawing my leg onto his lap and kneading my calf. “A distraction from the pain. We’ll get out of here soon.”

With Zeke’s meltdown, the mind-blowing orgasm I thought I had, and now this complete mind-fuck, I hadn’t considered how long we’d been stuck here.

“I’m sorry,” Zeke said, burying his face in my hair.

“For what?”

“I didn’t intend to enter your dream. I don’t like to dreamwalk… It’s just…” He lifted his head. “Do you remember how I said I can sometimes sense someone’s dreams if they’re open to me?”

I nodded.

“I could feel your emotions,” he said, swallowing hard. He squeezed his eyes shut. “This is hard. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He braced an elbow on his knee at my side, burying his face in his palm.

I placed a hand on his forearm, and he turned his head, still clutching the top of his hair. “You don’t have to say anything.” I hated seeing him stress over a dream.