He’d been in the dream, too. Watching from just outside the circle, waiting for the moment to throw one of the robed figures aside—just enough to break the grip they had on me.
I remembered it. That flash of light. That blur of movement.
It was him.
Even in my dream, even in my breakdown—he was there.
Holding me.
Shielding me.
I gasped awake.
The first thing I felt was the cold floor under my back.
The second was Darius’s arms around me, bare skin against mine, chest to chest, his body curled around mine like a shield.
I wasn’t in my bed.
I wasn’t clothed.
I was back in my room, naked, drenched in sweat, shivering like the last bit of whatever they’d done to me still clung to my skin.
And he was holding me.
Protectively.
Gently.
Someone entered the room. I didn’t see them, b
