Page 73 of Sorrow & Strangers

Alice and I spend the day with Rafe. He continues to improve but remains mostly unconscious. When he does wake, we barely manage to get a sip of water into him before he passes out again. As night falls, I wrap a blanket around myself and curl deeper into the chair.

I’m here again. It is the same bedroom, but this time I can feel him in the room with me. I blink my eyes open, and sure enough, his large form is standing in front of the window. The same window that I stood at last night, the one that looked out over the forest. Can he see what I saw? Hear what I heard? Is something beckoning him the same way it did me?

I sit up, and the sheet pools around my hips. When I look down, I realize I’m only wearing lingerie. My bra is black and lacey, and I feel the string of the matching thong against my hip.

I look back at the stranger, who is now looking over his shoulder at me. I can’t see his expression, but I can feel his questioning stare. Did he not plan this? I definitely didn’t. So if neither of us has control of the dream . . .

But then it dawns on me. Perhaps this is a plan formed by my subconscious, a way to play him at his own game and ultimately get rid of him. Maybe this is my opportunity to call his bluff and destroy him.

I glance down at the sheet again before shifting to my knees. I look at him, softening my gaze.

“You like it?” I ask, my voice seductive and dark.

“It’s not for me.” He tilts his head. “Nor is it what I would dress you in.”

I quirk a brow. “So you don’t like it?” I sit back on my heels, widening my knees a little.

He turns to face me and waves his hand, and I feel cool metal wrap around my throat. It’s tight but not uncomfortable, and the chain materializes in front of me, each link forming until it reaches him, leaving a leather strap in his hand. He yanks it hard, and I’m pulled forward onto my hands.

“That’s better,” he growls, his smirk lacing every word.

I look up at him, trying not to imagine what his eyes would look like as they darkened with lust. I wonder what color they are⁠—

“So it wasn’t about the outfit? It was about the position? You want me on my hands and knees for you?”

He tugs on the leash, and I can’t hold back my groan as the metal bites into the sensitive skin of my neck. “It is about your surrender. It always has been, little fae.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need to get back in control.

If he doesn’t have any control over the dream, then I’ll take it. The dream quakes as I start to weave a new one. He doesn’t resist, but he does growl when he is pulled away from me. The chain connecting us shatters, and he is forced down into a chair. I move back onto my knees again, still on the bed. I look directly at him and slide my hands over my waist.

The stranger snarls, and his body tenses, ready to surge to his feet. I know if he gets his hands on me, even in this dream, I will not be able to resist him. Thick chains wrap around his wrists and ankles, binding him to the chair. I don’t move again until I’m sure I have complete control of the dream, and then I brush my fingers over my stomach.

He pulls against his binds. “You should watch what you play with, brat,” he snarls, sending a rush through me.

My lips pull into a smile as the next part of my plan comes into play. The bed dips behind me, and Max’s hands slide down my arms, covering my hand where it rests against my stomach. His body presses against my back, and I tilt my head as he presses kisses along my shoulder.

The stranger snarls again, and Max pulls me back against him. He slides his lips up my neck, but my eyes remain on the shadowy figure bound to the chair. His body is practically vibrating with rage, and a primal part of me revels in it. Max kisses my jaw, and I part my lips in anticipation of his kiss. The stranger releases a deafening snarl, and everything shatters, plunging the dream into absolute darkness.

I pant, not moving, the thrill of fear percolating through me.

“Careful now.” The stranger’s voice is right at my ear, sending a chill down my spine.

“No, you be careful,” I say, though my voice is much weaker now.

His chuckle is low and wicked, vibrating against my other ear. “You have learned a little, but you have much further to go if you want to challenge me.”

I don’t move, barely breathing, not even trying to deny it, because I know it is the truth. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep defying and pushing back at him.

His hand slides down my side, caressing gently along the dip of my waist until his fingers dig into the curve of my hip and he yanks me against the hard planes of his big body.

“Was this to make me jealous?” he asks in a mocking tone, though I know my taunting has been effective.

“It was to get you to leave me alone,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, my nipples aching where they are crushed against his chest.

“Little fae is a little liar. Hm.”

I clear my throat. “It was to show you who I actually fantasize about,” I say, managing to make my voice a little stronger this time.