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She shakes her head no, a flash of old sadness crossing her features. "My dad… he stopped celebrating anything after my mom left."

I swallow a curse, taking her hand in mine and leading her gently over to the couch. We sit close next to each other, our thighs touching. I drape my arm securely over her shoulders, being incredibly mindful not to pull the fabric near the healing brand wound on her back.

She sighs contentedly, resting her head against my shoulder as I tuck her further into my side. I ask her softly about her mom and dad, and she bravely opens up to me yet again, revealing even more of her painful past.

My blood boils as she speaks. The fucker who pawned his daughter off to a syndicate was also abusive with her behind closed doors, treating her like a glorified housemaid for years. After everything she’s been through, every betrayal she's survived, I’m utterly amazed that she trusted me with her safety that first rainy night, and every single night after.

I pull her tighter against my chest, silently vowing to whatever gods are listening that I will never, ever take her trust for granted. “Thank you for sharing your story with me, precious girl,” I whisper, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “I’m so fucking sorry for every horrific thing you’ve had to endure in your life.”

She shifts, snuggling up even closer against my heart, and whispers into my shirt, “I can’t bring myself to regret any of it, because the nightmare led me straight to you.”

My chest tightens with overwhelming devotion. I tilt her chin up, and we share a long, deeply tender kiss. When we part, she snuggles right back down into my arms. I gently stroke her soft hair, listening to her breathing even out until she’s fast asleep against my chest.

I know I’ll have to carry her into the bedroom eventually so she doesn't wake up with a stiff neck, but right now, I don't want to move. I just want to sit here in the quiet, soaking in this blissful, perfect moment of peace and understanding.

CHAPTER EIGHT

EDEN

The air in the sterile concrete room is freezing, biting into my bare skin like tiny knives. My stomach cramps with hollow, gnawing hunger, but it’s nothing compared to the white-hot agony radiating from my right shoulder. The heavy scent of burning flesh chokes the air, and every shallow breath I take sends a fresh spike of fire through my veins. They’re coming back. The heavy boots are echoing down the hall. I have to get out. I have to⁠—

I jerk awake with a violent gasp.

The sudden, frantic movement tears at the healing skin of my burn, and a sharp, very real cry of pain rips from my throat.

Instantly, massive, warm hands are on me. "Eden. Raindrop, I've got you. You're here. You're safe."

Onyx’s deep, gravelly voice cuts through the lingering terror, pulling me out of the sterile basement and back into the soft, warm cocoon of his bed. My chest heaves as I blink frantically in the dark, my eyes locking onto his shadowed face.

"I'm sorry," I gasp out, the apologies spilling from my lips on pure reflex. "I'm so sorry, Onyx. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Stop," he murmurs fiercely, his heavy thumb brushing away the hot tears sliding down my cheeks. "Don't ever apologize for this."

I let out a wet, shaky breath, leaning my face into his calloused palm. A nervous, embarrassed laugh bubbles up in my throat, sounding more like a sob as I try to cover up how thoroughly shaken I am. "We’re quite the pair, huh?" I sniffle, rubbing my eyes. "I've just... I've never had a more realistic dream. It felt like I was right back on that metal table."

His jaw tightens, a flash of fury darkening his eyes before he softens his expression for me. He pulls me flush against his chest, wrapping his heavy arms around me to absorb my tremors. “I understand more than most how real and terrifying those dreams can be,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry you have experiences that haunt you at night. I swear to you, Eden. Swear on my life that I’ll be here for every single nightmare to bring you back to safety.”

The unwavering and absolute confidence in his voice sparks something deep and desperate inside me. I have a sudden, overwhelming need to feel alive, to feel connected to the man who makes the darkness recede. I tilt my head up and press my lips to his.

Onyx responds softly at first, offering a tender, soothing kiss meant to calm me. But I don't want calm. I want heat. I want him. I slide my hands up into his dark hair, pulling him closer as I part my lips and deepen the kiss, pouring all my frantic, desperate need for closeness into the slide of my tongue against his.

He groans, a low vibration in his chest, but immediately pulls back, hovering just inches from my mouth. His chest rises and falls heavily. "Raindrop... are you sure?" he rasps, wanting to make sure I'm not just seeking a reckless distraction from the panic.

I nod, my hands gripping the thick strands of his hair, tugging him back down so our lips are only millimeters apart. "Make me yours again," I whisper, my voice shaking with raw, unfiltered need. "I want your brand all over me, inside and out. Please?” I whisper into his mouth right before he closes the distance between us.

He doesn’t ask what I need, he just knows. He needs it, too.

Onyx’s tongue slips in between my lips, caressing my mouth in soft, slow strokes, while his hand glides down my naked body. He cups my breast and gently massages it, running his thumb over my nipple before continuing on his path. My body arches, meeting his hand as it wanders down my torso.

When he dips two fingers into my slit, I gasp quietly, breaking our kiss. I spread my legs, opening myself up for him, letting him know exactly where I need him.

Onyx climbs on top of me, pushing my thighs farther apart so he can settle his hips in between them. He rests his forehead on mine as he enters me slowly. I can feel myself stretch around him, every single inch bringing us closer together until he’s home, right where he belongs.

He stays still, both of us needing this, right here, this moment, this connection. Onyx kisses his way down my jaw and neck, then nuzzles into my shoulder as he pulls his cock out and pushes back in. I wrap my arms around his back, lightly dragging my nails down his skin. He drops to his forearms, one on either side of my head, pressing more of his weight down on me.

Each time he hits the end of me, my hips jerk, and my thighs squeeze him tighter. He groans so quietly I almost don't hear him, but I feel his cock twitching deep, so deep inside of me while he continues his torturously slow pace.

“Onyx…” I gasp, lifting my hips to meet his. He hooks one hand under my knee to draw my leg up toward my chest. At this angle, he’s hitting my most sensitive spot with each steady, measured stroke.