Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ADDIE
The dream was a desert—hot, shimmering, and entirely under my control. Because I knew the rules of my own mind.
In the waking world, I was a woman of contracts and calculations.
But here in the dead of night, with my eyes closed and my body in repose, I was a bit of a ho.
The red silk of my wedding dress was gone, replaced by the heavy, humid weight of the air.
I let myself move toward the version of Vidar that lived in my subconscious.
He was leaning against a wall of shadow, his hazel eyes tracking my every movement with a hunger that didn't scare me because I’d authored it.
I climbed onto his lap. The friction of his trousers against my thighs sent a jolt of phantom heat through my core.
I ran my hands over the broad expanse of his chest, feeling the rhythmic thud of a heart that beat only for my touch.
My fingers traced the ridges of his abs, mapping the hard, terrifying strength of him without the fear of what might happen if he pushed back.
I leaned in, my lips inches from his, tasting the rain and cedar on his breath.
It was a shock to me as a child when I learned that not everyone was a lucid dreamer.
When my friends told me about their nightmares, I was confused why they didn't just change the dream or tell the monster to stop.
I always wondered if being a lucid dreamer was a result of me being a control freak.
Even in my dreams, I needed to have my own say.
In my present condition, it was all I had left to be in charge of.
I pressed my mouth to this dream version of Vidar, expecting the taste of honey.
Instead, my nose wrinkled. A sharp, copper tang flooded my senses, cutting through the musky cedar and the heat.
It was the scent of a fresh kill; visceral, iron-rich, and wrong.
This wasn't part of the dream. It was happening in reality.
I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The room was bathed in the pale blue light of the pre-dawn moon. The space smelled of the docks. It smelled of sweat and slaughter.
I turned my head toward the shadows in the corner of the suite. Vidar sat in the wingback chair beside my bed. He hadn't changed his clothes. He was still in his wedding suit, but the pristine white of his shirt was ruined. A single dark spot of blood decorated his collar.
He didn't move. He didn't say a word. He simply sat there in the dark, his hazel-gold eyes fixed on me as the remnants of the dream man collided with the reality of the monster in the chair.
"Where's my brother?"
"Downstairs, having a drink with my brothers."
"He's only twenty."
"Really? Is that what concerns you?" Vidar’s voice was a dry, dangerous rasp. "After him being party to crimes including hacking, espionage, assault, and murder, what you object to is a little underage drinking?"
"Why aren't you with them?" I pushed myself up against the headboard, the silk of my nightgown slipping against my skin. "Or are you here to consummate your marriage?"
"Is that what you want, sweet Addie? Do you want me to consummate you?"
Vidar rose from the chair. He didn't rush.
He moved with a heavy grace, a predator who knew the perimeter was secure and the prey was pinned.
Every step toward the bed felt like a closing door, a lock turning, a metal bar being slated into place.
I watched the bloodstains on his shirt draw closer.
The scent of the docks filled my lungs until I felt lightheaded.
He reached the edge of the mattress and loomed over me. He moved closer, planting one hand on either side of my shoulders, caging me against the pillows. The house was a cage, the marriage was a cage, and now, this man—this beautiful, blood-streaked monster—was a cage.
There was no escape. Why not just give in to the fate I’d signed up for?
For twenty-eight years, I had been the architect of my own life.
I had managed the risks, checked the balance sheets, and plotted contingency plans for every possible disaster in the companies I'd worked for.
I was exhausted by the sheer, crushing weight of my own competence.
Inside the Blackwood empire, everything I tried—the defiance, the strategy, the corporate maneuvering—only made the walls of this new cage tighten further. Every time I reached for a lever to regain control, Vidar was there to break it. Or worse, to smirk while he watched me try.
Surrender felt like soft velvet. It promised an end to the relentless decision fatigue.
It promised that for the first time in my existence, I didn't have to be the smart one, the brave one, or the one left to pick up the pieces.
All I had to be was his. All I had to do was whatever he told me.
It was a terrifying, seductive kind of oblivion.
I looked up at him, at the raw, predatory heat in his golden eyes. Part of me—a treacherous, pulsing part—wanted to stop thinking and just let him consume the rest of my resistance.
It would be so easy. I could just let the current take me. I could let the wolf in me stop pacing and finally lie down.
"I know you want me, sweet Addie," he murmured, his face descending until I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "I can scent it on you."
My face burned, a traitorous blush creeping up my neck as my arousal spiked. He leaned in closer, his nose grazing the shell of my ear.
"You must have been eager. I could smell you all over my bedroom when I walked in."
He knew. He knew I'd stood outside his bedroom door, weighing my bravery.
He knew I'd walked into his sanctuary and stood in his space.
He knew I'd been hungry for his touch, for his mouth.
Hell, he'd probably snuck into my dreams and saw what I was about to do to him.
He was millimeters away now, his lips brushing against my own as he spoke his final observation.
"I know you wanted me badly because you infiltrated my most secret of places..."
He paused, and the air in the room suddenly turned to ice.
"...my laptop."
The seduction vanished. The heat in his eyes was snuffed out, replaced by a cold fury that made the bloodstains on his shirt look like a promise.
The wolf in him wasn't looking at its mate anymore; he was looking at a spy.
The weight of his body above me didn't feel like passion anymore.
It felt like an interrogation. I was caught, and there were no more dreams to hide in.
The silence in the room was heavy, vibrating with the unspoken weight of the night's violence. I felt the last of my armor crumble. The exhaustion from the fight finally caught up to me. I grabbed for my last bit of defiance, though the well was running dry.
What could he actually do to me? We’d been married for less than twenty-four hours. If he was going to break me, now was his chance. I jutted my chin up, meeting his molten stare with everything I had left.
"Yes," I snapped, my voice steadier than my heart. "I looked at your laptop. We’re married now. What’s yours is mine, right? Isn't that how this works?"
Vidar didn’t respond. He didn't even blink. He just held my glare, his forearms caging me to the mattress, his blood-stained shirt so close I could smell the metallic tang.
"I was bracing myself for some dark hentai fetish, but all I found were documents about me. You infiltrated every part of my life before you even introduced yourself to me. You know every one of my secrets. You've left me with nowhere and nothing to hide. So, really, you looked first."
A slight crease appeared at the corner of his eyes. It wasn't a wince. Vidar Blackwood didn't flinch. But it was a flicker, a momentary break in his mask.
"You only looked at the records I kept on you," he said. It wasn't a question; it was a low, rumbling observation.
"I didn’t go through your browser history, so whatever your porn fetish is, it’s safe."
His eyes bored into mine, searching for the lie, stripping away my defenses until I felt like he was reading my thoughts like a line of code.
The tension was a living thing, coiling around us.
I felt the truth bubbling up, the one thing I couldn't hide because my loyalty to her was louder than my fear of him.
"I saw the short-sell. I saw what you're doing to Sterling & Associates. And I warned Nell."