Page 11 of Hallowed Bones

As I push the long, dark strands of her hair behind her ears, the lone strip of pale white sifts through my fingers. I grip her chin and tilt her face toward mine. My hands are rough against the smooth surface of her skin, but I get what I want. Our gazes collide as the fire encircles us, cutting off any chance at forward momentum until the two of us are trapped in a pillar of red and gold and impossible heat.

Pain sears at my back and sides, and on instinct, I wrap my other arm around her waist, dragging her closer until our chests are smashed firmly together. To my utter shock and horror, my cock reacts. Stiffening in my pants and swelling with blood and arousal. The hard points of her nipples dig into my pecs through the fabric of her own clothes.

Fuck. I’m swamped with a fresh, new kind of heat that has nothing to do with the fire crackling all around us. Our combined breathing comes in low rasps, raw and uneven. Her puffs of air against my throat, clear evidence that she’s not unaffected by the attraction that spears between us.

A loud crashing noise at my back rumbles, and debris of some kind hits the back of my calf. A gasp escapes me when I realize it’s not hot. It’s … wet? I drop my hand from her chin and cup the back of her head, pulling her into me. Her breath is hot against my skin, sending shivers of awareness barreling through me. Despite our circumstances, I can feel my cock twitch.

This isn’t that kind of dream, I remind myself as I chance a look back and my heart stutters.

The flames roll, liquid and shimmering, like molten glass. Red waves that drip with steam. Then, without warning, they collapse. A wall of heat slams into both of us—and everything drops.

The stone beneath my feet disappears.

We fall.

The scream I can’t voice is trapped in my throat, but hers echoes all around me—loud and desperate and heartbreaking.

Down.

Down.

Down, we fall.

Liquid drips into my eyes, clouding my vision as I fight to hold on to the woman in my arms. It hurts. I know it does, but I ignore the jagged pain.

Together, the two of us flip over and over again, head over ass, spinning until we hit water so cold it feels like knives. Salt floods my nose, but the air in my lungs remains. The corridor is gone. Up and down are lies.

As the icy liquid grabs ahold of my limbs and drags me under, I gasp for breath and hold it inside. Her voice disappears. My eyes shoot open, finding hers. Her mouth is parted on a silent scream, bubbles arcing up to the surface we’re quickly sinking beneath.

I almost lose my grip on her. Panic slices through me as her limbs are pulled away and the darkness of the water invades. I blink rapidly, turning my head from side to side as a shock wave crashes through the water alongside us, ripping us clean apart.

The air seizes in my lungs, but just as quickly as I lose her, I find her again—drifting in the blue and gray. Her hair a weightless mass around her glowing face. I push toward her through the dark, crushing sea. My lungs are burning, but not enough to matter. Not compared to her.

She sees me. Reaches. Our hands find each other again, and I pull her in, wrapping around her in the endless dark. Her body is shaking.

Dreamscapes never make much sense. They’re as thin as paper and as strong as volcanic rock. I’m sure Lewis Carroll was a witch, and most likely a dreamwalker like I am, because the dreamworld is too similar to Wonderland in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland for its creator to be human. Up is down and down is up. The only thing I can seem to grasp and hold on to, the one thing that isn’t formless and changing, is her.

Tears streak her face even underwater as she gazes up at me, sliding over soot-stained cheeks. The dark, blackened marks wash away, but not her tears—as if they’re made of a different material. They cling to her skin.

It’s okay. I push the mental words toward her, hoping she can read them in my eyes. You’re okay. I’m here. I won’t leave you. You’re not alone.

As if she did hear, her fingers dig into my clothes as the currents of water tug at us, claws in the darkness attempting to rip us away from one another. The savage waves lap at me, catching at the fabric of my shirt and forcing one of my arms to release her.

With a soundless cry, she clings, wrapping her arms and legs around me. No longer is she trying to urge me to leave her behind. I force my arms to tighten on her, even knowing that it must hurt. Her face tips upward, more bubbles rising from her mouth. Mine is shut firmly, keeping the false air trapped in my lungs.

She’s not used to this world. She didn’t think to grasp at air before the water closed over our heads. Or maybe she didn’t see it coming as I had. Her mouth opens in a desperate gasp. No sound, but I don’t need that to know that she’s choking on the lack of oxygen.

Her lips are parted, and I don’t resist the urge to do what I know I must. I press my mouth to hers.

She flinches at first, surprised—but then she understands. Her mouth softens. Opens.

And I give her what I have left.

The breath from my lungs flows into her, and it’s more than air—it’s everything I feel and can’t say. The aching want. The hunger. The heat that has nothing to do with fire and everything to do with the way her body presses against mine.

Even now, on the edge of drowning, I’m aware of her skin, the shape of her mouth, the flutter in her throat. Her hands ease their hold, moving up as she takes from me. Not just the breath I willingly offer, but all of me.

The kiss is desperate and wild and hungry. It’s not just the simple exchange of one life for another; it’s the end and the beginning. I let my eyes slide shut as my vision blurs at the edges, and I kiss her harder.