Chapter 9 Lore
NINE
Lore
WHEN I WOKE up, the first thing I noticed was the strong, tattooed arm draped over me. Which was rather disturbing since I had no recollection of falling asleep or, more importantly, falling asleep with a man possessively holding on to me, even in slumber.
I blinked until the early morning bleariness faded, wondering if I was somehow dreaming.
Had I finally had an unforgettable night of passion and lost my memory of it?
That seemed like the sort of thing that could happen to me.
Well, maybe not the night of incredible passion, unfortunately.
Or maybe this was a trap and at any moment I’d have to free myself from this captor.
Luckily, I’d been preparing for this twisted scenario for years.
I was almost excited. I didn’t dare hope it was the beginning of my own reverse harem story and that there might be more heavily muscled—and tattooed—men lying around nearby.
Honestly, it could be a scene out of a dark fantasy or romance, and I was slowly realizing I might have questionable taste in fiction.
At least the members of my book club were on the same dark descent to literary hell—the novel we’d voted to read next was so wrong it was right. Agatha and Blake would positively lose their minds if I managed my own harem. Needless to say, our monthly discussions were very fun.
I made a mental note to have some Team Morally Gray then we could revisit our stance on pet names.
I pumped an imaginary fist in the air, already claiming victory in our war. Long live my revenge for Peaches. I couldn’t wait to unveil it when he woke up.
Hopefully he’d be in a good mood and wouldn’t strangle me.
I peered at the ink on his arm through slitted lashes, admiring how lifelike the feathers were.
I wanted to see if they felt as downy soft as they looked but kept my hands to myself. The sociopath probably wouldn’t appreciate channeling his inner house cat, so I refrained from petting him like one.
His sparkling tattoo was one more glaring indicator that he was not exactly what he appeared to be.
I’d never seen glowing ink before; maybe he was the one who’d made a bargain.
Hope bloomed like a spring flower in my chest.
If a thundercloud like him could manifest a bit of magic, my deal had to be on the horizon.
Unless he was the one doling out bargains; then that might get tricky. But I was positive we could work out something mutually favorable.
I closed my eyes again.
It was so warm I debated whether I should pretend to still be sleeping, or if I had to do the responsible adult thing and get up.
The thought of having to face the uncertain reality of this strange new world was a tad overwhelming. What little energy I’d recuperated overnight vanished and laziness won.
I burrowed against the assassin, seeking out more of that delicious warmth he radiated. For a stone-cold killer, he really was exceptional at cuddling.
I released a contented sigh as I wriggled into the perfect nook between his arm and body. Surprisingly, he didn’t protest.
He must be in a deep sleep; otherwise, I imagined he’d be grumbling as I fluffed his arm like a pillow and stuffed it under my head.
Today was already off to a much better start than yesterday.
I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day like this, lost in my own little daydreaming bubble, far from all the creepy things that went bump in the night here. Alas, my drowsy stupor didn’t last.
The more I focused on trying to fall asleep again, the more my mind revolted. Someone needed to remind it we were on the same team and to stop internally fighting me.
My extremely valid argument with myself was simple: The more rest I had now, the more physically and mentally prepared I’d be to face whatever ghoulish delight awaited us. But my brain was a stubborn mule, and I slowly became aware of the other things it had been alerting me to.
Like the assassin’s hard, naked body pressed against mine.
That couldn’t be right. There was no chance Lord Serious slept nude.
I shimmied against him, expecting to feel the leather of his trousers.
But no… that was bare skin.
All thoughts emptied from my head when I realized I was also completely nude and was still rubbing up against him.
He might be asleep, but parts of him were now very much awake.
I should have been more scandalized, but I was honestly a little disappointed I couldn’t recall the details of him ripping his clothes off.
I imagined the assassin would be the type to set that brooding stare on me in challenge as he disrobed.
Confident but not arrogant that I would like what I saw.
He wouldn’t be wrong. Even being wildly unfriendly, he was physically attractive and knew it.
I gave myself a mental slap.
Drooling over him when I had more important issues to solve was absurd. I’d definitely need to evaluate my priorities once I returned to Bellington.
I had been with a few lovers before, but I always remembered the getting-naked part. Now I drew a complete blank on how we ended up in this… position.
I swallowed thickly, trying to calm my racing thoughts and think beyond the sensation of his body molded to mine.
Logically, I knew he had to have a good reason for undressing us.
He didn’t strike me as the kind of person who did something extreme without exhausting all viable options first.
Which didn’t necessarily ease my worries.
I inhaled and slowly exhaled, attempting to calm myself.
If we were in a romance novel, he’d undoubtedly nuzzle into my neck, unaware of what he was doing, then jolt backward as he woke up and realized he was a little too happy, given the circumstances.
Or maybe not, depending on what sort of romance we were in.
If it was a dark romance, maybe this would be the dubious consent scene and we’d both pretend we didn’t want to give in to our desires while absolutely giving in to them.
Because avoiding reality for another minute seemed like the best path to take, and I was on the verge of completely shutting down, I amused myself by analyzing why that worked in some books but not others, finally settling on whether the characters were openly attracted before the questionable antics began.
I froze, recalling the strange details from yesterday.
After all the weird, magical things that happened, I couldn’t stop wondering if I’d accidentally transported us into one such romance novel.
Maybe that was one of the things the portal stone did.
I’d definitely been the one to bring us to Jessa Maya’s book. The assassin hadn’t read it. And if I did somehow use the portal stone to bring that story to life, then I could be in a new book now.
Maybe this was a dark romance.
I tried to figure out if my heart was pounding in excitement or concern.
Or maybe both.
Would I pretend to still be sleeping and bite my lip to keep from making any noise if the sociopath’s hands suddenly strayed?
I suspected I knew the answer. I was a hussy through and through.
I needed to start designing a tattoo—maybe Ruined by Romance in pretty script with peach anemone flowers woven around my wrist like a cuff, letting the world know I’d happily be chained to the genre for life.
A few minutes passed with no questionable groping, and I released a breath.
At least that was settled.
Since we were not in a dark romance, he didn’t stir.
Which was a good thing—I needed one less complication in my world until I figured out what the hells had happened.
Bits and pieces of the previous night slowly came back.
Being strapped to a tree, the icy rain, the cold. The wolves.
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
Were there wolves aside from the nightmare creature Jessa Maya rode? And if there had been, how did we end up in this… my attention swept around the dark chamber.
The primitive fire pit, small stack of twigs, the animal scat in the far corner.
The naked murderer had brought us to a cave.
I vaguely recalled him scouting the area for a warm, dry place to shelter for the night.
Given my memory of feeling frozen to the core, I imagined I’d been hypothermic, which finally explained the lack of clothing.
Something aside from the obvious—waking up naked in a cavern with a stranger who probably had an entire graveyard of dead bodies he was responsible for and being a little turned on anyway—was bothering me.
It took another second to realize what: my companion hadn’t moved or spoken.
By now he should have definitely figured out I was awake and might have some questions about how we ended up twined together like two longtime lovers in this fine establishment.
Gods. I sincerely hoped neither the cannibal nor hypothermia had gotten to him. If I was cuddling with a corpse, I might lose my mind.
Horny horror was a genre I did not want to know existed or accidentally create.
I twisted in his arms, which proved to be exceptionally difficult.
His weight was leaden.
I elbowed him a little, fighting the frantic feeling building inside me.
He couldn’t be dead. Could he?
“Wake up, Blondie.”