It was a nightmare. I knew that much.

I had been reliving the same dreams of my past, of my sins, for years. But that time… it was different and horrifying.

My feet floated into the house that looked like mine. My brain was a victim of its trauma, and I couldn’t stop myself when I started climbing the stairs with flowers and a cake box in my hands. It was happening again.

“D-don’t!” I tried to warn myself. To stop. To turn away. But my brain wasn’t listening to me, and I kept floating.

I opened the door and found a woman lying on my bed. “Please don’t!” I cried out, moving closer and instead of dark brown hair, wavy golden locks splayed on the pillow.

My body froze, something like fear and raw terror creeping through my bones.

I moved closer, my breath in my throat, and found her blue eyes staring at me. Red blood sliding from the side of her head as she slowly sat up. Her school uniform ripped at various places, cuts all over her legs with a deep wound on her palm. The white sheets of the bed were turning dark red as she bled.

“What did you do, Cillian?” she whispered, her eyes watering, and I couldn’t make myself speak when the bouquet of wilted flowers fell from my hand, the box of cake dropping on the rug.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice barely audible as I kept watching her. My Doll getting hurt while I couldn’t do anything.

Her warm, pale skin turned white, her plump pink lips turned colorless, and her eyes lost their shine.

“You did this,” she said, a dark figure looming behind her, and a low sound elicited from my throat when that shadow grabbed her shoulder. I tried to move, but my limbs were tightened by an invisible rope, and I could not use them. Just watch as the shadow used a knife and cut her.

My lips parted. My Emma was getting hurt and I couldn’t do anything.

“Cillian,” she whispered, her lids falling close—

“Cillian!” I heard her voice from somewhere else. “Cillian, wake up!”

My eyes snapped open, and I became alert. There was someone on my bed. Without thinking, I pushed them down, ignoring a yelp and held onto their neck. I pinned her down, glaring at her in the darkness.

Her?

“C-Cillian,” she gasped, her hand clawing at my wrist that tightened on her neck. “It’s me—Emma.”

I looked closer at her face and hair in the dark and quickly pulled away. It was Doll. My Emma. Oh fuck. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse from the sleep. I sat on the edge of the bed, my back to her as she wheezed.

“Oh god,” she gasped, and I felt guilt bubble in my stomach. I poured her a glass of water and handed it to her without looking.

“Thank you,” Emma mumbled softly, sipping on the water. “Were you having a nightmare?”

I ignored her question and covered my face. Why the fuck had Elena ignored my resignation? I shouldn’t be here. I wasn’t capable enough to be her bodyguard. I just fucking choked her and almost killed her. Someone else was better suited to protect her when I couldn’t save her from myself.

“Cillian if—”

“Get out,” I snapped. “You need to rest.”

I felt the bed dip behind me and tensed when a soft hand touched my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” she said, her voice firm.

“Emma, there’s nothing to talk about.” Her hand felt gentle when it glided over my back, caressing me. “I’m sorry I choked you. It won’t happen again.”

“Well, that’s a pity,” she said, making me more tense. She was so close that I could feel her body heat and warm breath on my shoulder. “What if I want you to choke me?”

“This is…” I shook my head and tried to stand up, get away from her touch and siren-like voice, but she wrapped her hands around my torso. “Emma.”

“Shh. I know you just had a nightmare and you are sorry for choking me. I forgive you, Cillian,” she mumbled into my skin and kissed me. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but please don’t leave me.”

My throat went dry, and I held her left hand, my jaw ticking at the sight of the bandage on her right palm. “I won’t,” I promised.

“Do you mind if I sleep here?” she asked, her blue eyes flickering up at me through her lashes. I touched her cheek, relieved to see that her skin still had color. Her lips were pink and her body was warm. She was okay.

“Why?” I asked, trailing my fingers down her cheek to her neck, the flimsy straps of her nightdress that did nothing to hide her beautiful, heavy breasts. I twirled a lock of golden hair around my finger and gently tugged, seeing her pupils dilate. “Answer me, Doll. Why do you want to sleep in your bodyguard’s bed?”

Her breathing got heavier and lids fluttered when my exploring fingers moved from her hair to her arm, feeling the goosebumps skitter on her soft skin that smelled like vanilla. So fucking good.

“Because I…”

“Because?” I pushed, moving my thumb on the pulse of her wrist, feeling it beat wildly underneath my fingers. Such dainty wrist and nimble fingers.

“Because I’m not scared when I’m with you, Cillian.”

My exploring stopped and eyes averted to the small healing scars splattered over her thighs and legs. Instead of lust, a raging fire bubbled inside me. Anger overpowered the guilt, and I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer.

“I choked you a minute ago. You were going to faint. Could’ve died and yet you are still here, letting me touch you and grab you.” I gripped her jaw, a small gasp parting from her pouty lips. “Either you are really not scared of me when you should be, or you’re stupid. Which one is it, Doll?”

Her eyes burned, and she struggled, trying to squirm away. “Is it so bad for me to like you? To want to be with you?”

My grip loosened. My voice was sharp and deep. “Yes. It is. You should go to sleep in your—”

“No,” she said harshly. Her hands cupped my face, her soft fingers grazing over my stubble. “Look at me and tell me you don’t want me and I’ll go away.”

“I don’t want you to leave, Emma,” I said, her soft body pressing against mine. Warm. She was warm and alive. “But we can’t be together. It’s dangerous.”

She swallowed, her hand lowering to my chest, feeling my hammering heart. “I get hurt when you’re not around. Even if it’s dangerous, I want you near me all the time because I’m selfish.” Emma raised her chin and said, “I am a spoiled brat and I want you. I like you and I won’t stop until you tell me to fu—”

Holding the back of her neck, I pressed my lips against hers. Her lids fluttered when I kissed her again. There. There it was. The softness of her lush pillowy lips that calmed the raging anger and guilt that burned through me. I needed her more than she needed me.

“I like you too, Doll,” I whispered, pulling away, her swollen lips parting to pant for air. I rubbed her bottom lip and gazed at her pretty face.

“Show me,” she said, her voice sultry.

I waited, her eyes roving over my bare skin, my tattoos and piercings. Licking her lips, she met my eyes and said, “Show me how much you like me, Cillian.”

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