Page 52 of Wildling

A tremor runs through my mind.

His eyes are kinder, almost gentle. His hair is different as well, less unruly. He moves, and in this light, his scars have vanished. I study him and bite my bottom lip, reaching my hand to where the scars were, running my fingers along the smooth skin of his neck. No scar…

I remember him like this, before my mind twisted him into something evil. “Nick?” My voice grates along my throat. “What happened?”

Last I remember, I was hanging in the shed and begging Frank to free me. Now I’m here? My memories are like splattered paint on a canvas. They exist but with no rhyme or reason. No timeline for how they got there.

He squeezes me tighter, his eyes pinned on mine. “You left, baby. I told you not to leave.”

“You left…you left me,” I croak. I can barely keep my head up, so I rest my head on his legs. The muscles on his stomach flex as he kisses my neck. “I told you I’d come back. I’ll always come back to you.”

Anger flutters down my spine. Lies…he had already left me. He left me in the worst possible way. He breathes, and I relish his touch, still utterly confused as to how I got here. “I don’t understand what’s happening. How long have I been out here?”

He wipes my sweaty brow with his hand, dabbing my face with water to cool me off. “You’ve been gone for one day. I’ve been searching for you ever since I realized you were gone.” Searching or hunting? His jaw clenches as I gaze up at him. “You’re lucky I found you. You have to get up on your own. You can’t stay here.”

My body relaxes. Whatever happened…it’s over now. I’m safe. Safe. Nick is safe. But why can’t he save me?

“I’m sorry,” I cup his cheek. “I shouldn’t have ran. And I shouldn’t have killed Natalie.” Saying those words out loud will forever haunt me.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Let’s get you back to the cabin.” He pulls me into his arms, and he helps me stumble through the woods. He leaves white ribbons all around…markers to help find our way. He once told me, a long time ago, that it’s a beacon, so I’ll always know where home is, even if I get lost. Luckily, I didn’t get very far, but out here, it only takes one wrong step, and you’re lost forever.

The white ribbon is a beacon.

As soon as we get to the cabin, Nick sets me down by the fire pit outside and goes inside. I look around the patio. It looks different now; flowers are everywhere, in pots arranged around the seating area. The garden is bursting with vegetables. The yard around the cabin is neatly kept, not overgrown, as if someone spends a lot of time tending it. I distinctly remember that these flowers weren’t here before…just the faded remains of them.

He returns with a bucket of water and a cloth. Removing his shirt, sweat shines down his muscled, six-foot frame. He seems weary, broken for a moment, as he sits on the patio chair, rests his arms on his knees and tilts his head up, revealing his handsome face to me. Lust and fear battle inside my brain, and his eyes reflect the same battle every time he looks at me. The way he’s always looked at me—even before.

He sits, his legs sprawled out, wearing his sweats, which are dipped low. He squeezes cool water all over his head. The way the sun shines down on him makes him look ethereal and devastatingly handsome. I sit like a good girl waiting for him to tell me what he wants from me.

His eyes are furious.

Finally, he motions to me. “Come here, baby.”

Images of the shed keep replaying in my mind. Flashes of Archer flood back, but the man in front of me isn’t that version of him.

I pinch myself with one hand, the other grips the fabric of the couch I’m sitting on the other side of my consciousness. My mind is in two places at once. I pinch myself harder…no pain. I take a moment to ground myself both in this memory and at home in Stormwood. My gaze catches where Nick waits patiently, watching me.

I’m not really here. This is a memory, which explains why everything is so disjointed. Whatever is happening right now is important though, so I carry on replaying it through. My mind put me here for a reason.

My body is still shaking as I walk toward him, shifting to my knees, and settling myself between his legs. He pulls me onto his lap. I’m still a sweaty mess, and I can’t seem to catch my breath or settle my beating heart. He brings more water to my lips.

“Calm down, Layla. Drink the water, baby.” His hands are soft and inviting.

I keep eye contact with him, my body throbbing at what he’s about to do to me, and I sip the water. A reminder that I depend on him for everything. He wipes sweat from my brow. It’s impossible to cool off while sitting on his lap. My core is ignited. My fear of him arouses all my senses—even pain.

He pulls off my sweat-dripped shirt, leaving me bare, my nipples pebbling despite the heat. He keeps his hand on my waist and leans over, pulling a cool cloth from a bucket of clean water that’s set beside him, running it down my back. The coolness of it spreads beneath my skin.

I lean into him, spreading my legs on either side of him. He cradles me, his lips hitting my ear, and his cock straining against his pants. He keeps the cool water cloth on me as I press my body on top of his. I part my lips as he slides his thumb in my mouth. I close my eyes as he plays with them.

When I open my eyes again, I gasp as he transforms right before my eyes. My mind tremors again, shifting his golden eyes to nearly black. The scar reappears on his face, as if it was just hiding beneath his skin as the Archer takes over.

“You weren’t a good girl, were you, wildling?” he says.

Shame hits my insides. “No.”

“I told you to stay, and you didn’t obey me, did you?”

I bow my head in shame but exude innocence. “No. I didn’t.”