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“No!” he yelled, his face contorted with anguish. “No! Don’t! Don’t!”

“Rhyan!” I yelled.

“Don’t touch her,” he snarled.

Rhyan was having a nightmare. A nightmare terrible enough for his aura to summon a blizzard.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Rhyan!”Myteethchatteredas I fought my way across the living room. Snow battered against my nightshift and my bared legs and arms, as the cold bit at my face. “RHYAN!” I reached the couch, crawled onto it beside him, and shook his arms. His skin was like ice, shaking and thrashing. He’d taken off his shirt before he’d fallen asleep, and his chest was turning blue, the black wing tips of his gryphon tattoo standing out in stark contrast.

“No! No!” he screamed. “Don’t!”

I was starting to lose the feeling in my hands, my fingers growing painfully numb as the temperature continued to plummet. I shook him again, but I wasn’t getting through to him, and his skin was even colder than mine. It was painful to touch, almost burning like the silver bindings in the arena.

“Rhyan!” I yelled again. I straddled his lap and pushed my body as close to his as I could. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my face against his chest, desperate to create warmth between us, hoping to give him some of mine before I lost it all and hoping my weight would startle him awake. I squeezed him tighter, rocking against him, and yelled into his ear, “Rhyan! Wake up!”

One second, I was sitting on his lap, the next, he’d pinned me beneath him, his body pressed over mine across the couch, my legs wrapped around his waist. His hand reached for my neck as his hips pressed deep against mine. I gasped, pushing against him.

His eyes sprang open, and for a few seconds, he looked confused, like he was caught somewhere between wakefulness and the images of his nightmare.

“Rhyan,” I said. “Rhyan, it’s me.” I coughed; his grip on my neck had tightened.

“Fuck,” he said, eyes widening, finally awake. The wind vanished, and the snow stopped falling, leaving behind only whatever had already accumulated on top of us. “What?” His green eyes raced back and forth across my face as a look of horror filled his expression. “Lyr!” He pulled his hand from my neck like he’d been burned and sat back, looking horrified.

“What—What just—Are you all right? Gods! Did I hurt you?”

“No.” I sat forward, pushing down my shift, which had risen nearly to my waist.

Rhyan was breathing heavily, staring at me in a mix of horror, shame, confusion, and…desire. I wrapped my arms around myself, the cold now deep in my bones.

“You were having a nightmare,” I said. “I was trying to wake you.”

He planted his feet back on the ground, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. “Fuck. Lyr, I’m sorry.”

I inched closer to him, making an effort to keep my teeth from chattering. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control that.”

He shook his head, still in his hands. “I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.”

“What?” I pressed a hand to his shoulder.

His shoulders rose and fell, but he kept his face hidden.

“Rhyan, hey, come on. Talk to me.”

He looked up, face full of anguish. “I didn’t want you to experience that.” He took a deep breath, his chest heaving. “I get these nightmares—usually it’s not a big deal when I’m by myself. The storm stays…with me. Gods.” He leaned forward, brushing his hand through my hair, his fingers light against my neck.

Snowflakes fell onto my shoulders. I shivered.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have stayed awake.”

“Rhyan, you need to sleep, too. It’s okay,” I said, but he only shook his head again. “What about the other nights we were together? When I stayed here? And the night you guarded me in the Shadow Stronghold?”

His jaw clenched as he shifted his body to face mine. “I didn’t sleep,” he admitted. “I stayed up for both of those nights.”

“Rhyan.”

“Lyr, I was on duty both times. Guarding you, protecting you. I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to.”