Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Afracture in the darkness. Another presence. A warmth, a sweetness hovering at the edge of his consciousness. Something about it called to him, pulling him up from the darkness that surrounded him.
More sensations returned. The weight of his body. The rush of blood through his veins. His heart rate increased. The slow, distant rhythm in his chest began to strengthen, to quicken. He struggled harder, trying to break through the fog engulfing him.
A soft touch on his chest, and his skin suddenly came alive. He could feel the air surrounding him and the structure cradling him. The sweetness that had reached him before filled his lungs.
The hand resting on his chest started to withdraw.
No!
He fought harder, forcing his body to respond. He grabbed the hand that had touched him, and placed it back against his chest. The contact sent another jolt through him, and his eyes flew open.
A small female was staring at him, her eyes wide and startled.
Something about the eyes was wrong, but they were warm and appealing.
A mask covered part of her face, but he could see her mouth—small and pink and tempting.
His gaze traveled down to lush curves beneath strange clothing.
Curves? Something about that was wrong as well.
And yet… Not wrong. An unexpected rush of desire shot through his body.
Her skin was pale and smooth, too smooth, and the hand trapped beneath his was impossibly soft. Everything about her was wrong and yet he wanted to pull her closer, to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe.
“Who… are you?” he rasped.
The words felt strange, thick in his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in a very long time.
Her eyes widened again.
“You can speak. Who are you?”
He didn’t recognize the words, and yet there was a distant echo in his head, as if their meaning hovered just out of reach. He shook his head.
“I don’t understand you.”
Blunt little teeth clamped down on a full pink lip.
“Let’s start with the basics. I’m Alina. Alina,” she repeated, tapping her chest.
A name.
“Alina,” he repeated carefully, and she nodded.
“And you are?” She pointed at him, her meaning clear.
Who am I? His memories were fragmented and inconsistent. Things that had come to him in the darkness. Things he wasn’t sure were true. He slowly shook his head.
“You don’t remember?” Her voice softened. “If you don’t remember who you are, you probably don’t know why you’re here either.”
That nagging sense of familiarity returned, the feeling that he was on the verge of understanding her.
She started to take a step back and suddenly seemed to notice that his hand was still wrapped around hers. He followed her gaze down to the fragile softness of her hand beneath his.
“Can I have my hand back now?”
She tugged lightly, and he knew she wanted him to release her, but he didn’t want to let go. Not yet. Not when she was the only real thing in a world that still felt like a dream.
He was awake, but he was still lost. The only thing he knew was that this female belonged to him, and he had no intention of letting her go.