Chapter 17
Seventeen
Shaye
I'm running. Sprinting through the desert.
The moon is high above me, though barely lights my path.
The sand is cool beneath my bare feet. I don't see what or who I'm running from, but I sense it.
An overwhelming evil chases me, fear prickles my skin.
Despite my best effort, the sand dunes slow my advancement.
Every few steps I cast a glance over my shoulder in hopes I don't see what lurks in the night.
Suddenly a scream makes me stop.
I listen as my name echoes across the desert. I know that voice.
Abandoning the need to escape, I search for who is calling for me. I fight, clawing my way over an enormous mound of sand. That's when I see him.
"Nyx!" I scream and slide down the other side of the hill. His arms are stretched wide, shackled in a cell. Blood drips down his face and pools at his knees.
I sprint inside the open-door cell but when I reach for him, he disappears. A cackle spurs me to whip around.
Vesper.
Her fingers are tangled in Nyx's hair. She yanks his head back and the glint of her knife in the moonlight stops my heart.
"You didn't think I'd make it that easy, did you?" Vesper hisses and slices her dagger across Nyx's throat.
"No!" I scream but when I lunge toward him, the sand opens beneath me, and I plummet into darkness.
"Nyx!" I spear upward to find myself in Atlas' room. Our room.
Inhale, exhale. I wipe sweat beading around my forehead with the back of my palm.
It's a wonder I didn't wake Atlas. He's normally a light sleeper, especially when I'm having one of my nightmares. But his side of the bed is empty. I blink, making sure the darkness isn't hindering my vision, but the fireplace illuminates the room enough for me to confirm Atlas isn't here.
Panic stirs within me. What if Vesper –
Stop!
I wrangle my fear before it explodes into something more than I can manage.
"Atlas is safe. Nyx is safe. We're all safe." I repeat until my heart settles.
I should turn over and try to get some sleep since I have no earthly idea what tomorrow holds when it comes to my schedule, but I can't. I groan. I won't be able to sleep until I know for a fact Nyx and Atlas are in the house somewhere and unharmed.
Slipping my feet into my slippers and throwing a robe over my silk nightdress, I tip-toe out of our room to ensure I don't make too much noise and wake Finn down the hall.
I wind down one level and with a trembling hand reach for Nyx's door.
I suck in a breath and shove the door open wide enough for me to peer inside.
A shirtless Nyx is sprawled across his mattress akin to a toddler in a crib.
There's no way he's actually comfortable in such a twisted and haphazard position, but when he releases a snore that could rattle the rafters, I sign in relief.
He's fine. He's safe. It was all just a horrific nightmare.
Satisfied, I close his door and make my way back upstairs.
If I was up late, I'd be in the kitchen. But there's only one place Atlas would be. His art studio.
With soft steps, I ascend to the attic where a glowing light beckons me further. When I turn the corner, relief washes over me. A shirtless Atlas is hunched over a canvas and he's sketching like a wild man with charcoal and candlelight being his only tools.
He's safe. My heart steadies.
I should go back to our room and allow him privacy, but as if he can sense my presence, he stops working and slowly twists on his stool to look at me.
His smile thrusts me into the memory of us kissing in the bathtub.
His hands skimmed over every inch of my wet skin until he found the exact spot I wanted him to find.
"Is everything all right?" Atlas' question brings me back. His brows pinch together when I don't immediately answer. "Nightmare?"
I cross my arms over my chest. It's much colder up here than it is in our room.
I offer a smile of my own to soothe his nerves.
He doesn't need to know about another nightmare.
Especially when this one is different. Up until this point, I've had the same nightmare.
This one was just about Nyx. And I can't bring myself to burden Atlas with this.
Not when he's seeking peace of his own up here.
"I'm fine. Woke up and you weren't there so I wanted to make sure you were ok. "
He extends his hand. A silent invitation. So, I approach him and once I'm within reach, he wraps his arm around me pulls me to sit on his lap. It's then I have the opportunity to see what he's working on.
I gasp. "Is that Seraxes?"
"My first attempt at drawing her. I hope I did her justice."
My eyes glide from her snarling muzzle down her scales and sharp talons right to the tip of her pointed tail. He's managed to capture her in flight, and I swear she's the most majestic creature this realm has ever beheld.
"She's beautiful," I whisper in complete awe of his talent. "You never cease to amaze me."
He grins and squeezes my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I was planning to add you next."
"Oh, don't!"
Atlas' eyes widen in surprise. "Why not?"
"I would love to keep this piece just her if that's all right with you." I explain. "And I don't want you muddying it by adding me."
"You could never muddy anything." He kisses my shoulder. "And of course, you can keep it once it's finished." He sighs, his breath tickling the back of my neck. "I wish you'd let me add you though."
I know I'm impeding his artistic vision but there's something about Seraxes in this piece that screams perfection. Plus, if it's to be hanging in the Harland House, I'd prefer to see her in all her glory.
"I'll make you a deal," I whisper, twisting to straddle him. "Keep this piece the way it is, and I'll let you draw me."
"I hate to break it to you, Strenlys," he flashes a devious smirk, "but I already draw you." He motions to the wall and my lungs constrict. There are a few charcoal sketches of me, portraits of different facial expressions and then there's a large painted canvas of me in my Lumos state.
"You are my muse," he whispers against my neck. "And I plan to add more to the collection."
"They're beautiful."
"But?" There's a teasing in his voice that fuels my boldness.
I slip off his lap and backpedal across the studio. "But you've not drawn me like this." My robe slides off my shoulders and drops to the floor. Before he can say anything, I lower the front of my silk nightdress to my waist and his eyes fade from green to purple.
His muscles tense. He leans forward to stand but stops when I tsk. "Ah, ah, ah," I sit on a secondary stool and pose. "Sketch. No touching until you're finished."
"You wicked woman," his voice is low and rumbles in his chest. "You're not playing very fair."
"I know." I smile.
A featherlight tick of his jaw is all I see before he reluctantly puts Seraxes' piece to the side and grabs a fresh canvas.
With care, he picks up one of his charcoal pencils and flicks his eyes over the easel.
With a sure hand, he begins. Strands of dark hair fall over his forehead, but he doesn't stop to finger them back into place.
He's completely locked into his work, and I find him absolutely mesmerizing.
The way he observes me and then puts what he sees down on paper causes my nipples to harden.
The urge to call off the no-touching rule is growing stronger by the minute.
Suddenly his left-hand stills. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at me.
"Are you finished?" I ask, hoping his answer is yes so I can lose the dress entirely for him to have his way with me.
"No."
I pout. "Then why are you looking at me like that?" I feel my core heating when his line of site dips from my eyes to my lips to my breasts. I want him. Now.
"I don't think I'll ever grow tired of seeing you light up when you think of me."
I peer down and sure enough, my body is glowing. My eyes find his. "Will this be a problem for your sketch?"
Atlas shakes his head. "No." He swallows, his chest heaving with desire. "But it might be a problem for me."
"Is that so?" I ask softly. When he nods, I shimmy the nightgown off completely. "How about now?"
"Fuck," he groans.
"Yes," I pant. "Let's."
"Shaye," there's warning in his tone. "If you want me to finish this – "
"Later." I widen my legs leaving nothing to his imagination. "I need you to use those hands differently."
Without a second's hesitation, Atlas is up and his lips crash into mine.
His hands slide up my bare thighs, my waist, until they find my breasts.
I can't help the moan that escapes my lips when he touches me.
His tongue plunges into my mouth, and I run my fingers across the planes of his chest. But he doesn't stay long.
He drops to his knees and pushes my legs apart.
I gasp, throwing my head up to the ceiling. My fingers claw through his hair as his tongue finds its place between my thighs.
I steady myself on the stool as my breathing turns ragged. "Atlas," I whimper.
Pressure builds in my core, and I can't help all the thoughts running through my head. How much I love this man. How much I want this man. How much I need this man. My body begins to glow brighter, despite my best efforts to contain myself.
"Those must be some damn good thoughts," he teases, slipping two fingers inside me, denying any rebuttal from me. "That's a good girl," he praises as I ride his fingers. As I get close to finishing, he retracts his hand.
"Atlas," I groan in frustration.
With swift hands, he grabs my waist and flips me, so I'm draped over the stool.
With his shadows, he guides my legs wider and whispers in my ear, "Not yet, love.
" Then he inserts himself. Stars, he feels so good.
He fists my hair and pulls me upward, so his chest is against my back.
His teeth graze the tip of my ear while his free hand finds purchase around my neck.
"Atlas," I moan as his shadows dance around my nipples.
We move in perfect rhythm. His strokes slow and sure.
"Shaye," he whispers lowly and I feel his body tense against mine. "Together." He commands and within seconds we come as one.
Once we've had a chance to catch our breath, he takes a step away from me so I can turn to face him.
He kisses my forehead. "Just when I think I can't be more obsessed with you."
I rest my head against his bare chest. "I'm sure I can think of new ways for you to fall in love with me."
He barks out a laugh.
"I love the sound of your laugh," I tip my face up to look at him. "It might be my favorite."
"Is that so?" His brows bounce in playful delight. "And why's that?"
"Because when we first met, I couldn't get you to smile. Now I get to hear you laugh and it makes me feel as if I'm the luckiest girl in the Six Kingdoms."
Atlas tucks his index finger beneath my chin and presses his lips against mine. "Thank you for healing the parts of me I didn't realize were broken."
My fingers dance along his abdominals. "I love you."
"I love you, too." He squeezes my ass. "What do you say we go to bed now?"
The fear of my nightmares plaguing me once again cuts into my chest, but I breathe through the anxiety and grin. "I'd like that."