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She panted as more flashes came. His fingers inside her. His mouth on her breast. Her cries. Her surrender. Her body shattering in his hands.

She strangled the sheets. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

But her thighs trembled, remembering every inch of him. Her pulse raced like he was still inside her. Her skin begged for the friction to never end.

Her stomach tightened. Kohl was in the bed! All night!

Her eyes darted to the door. Did he...?

No. He wouldn’t.

Would he?

Her mind scrambled. Had she moved in her sleep? Moaned? Reached for him?

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding. Had he touched her?

Anger flared, remembering their fight.

What are you doing? You want him! You were pissed he gave himself to somebody else!

No. No, that’s not the only reason she was pissed. He’d rubbed it in her face, and that was unforgivable.

And now it was ripping her apart all over again.

Her mouth twisted in disgust—at him, at herself, at the burning low in her belly that wouldn’t go away.

She squeezed her eyes shut, swearing softly under her breath. Then swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her skin humming with phantom sin.

She’d had real dreams before--like crazy real-- come true real--but this… this was not that. Not at all.

So, what was it? A manifestation of her deepest, darkest, buried obsessions? Had she conjured up a Kohl that wanted her and dressed him like the devil he was acting like?

Another gasp. What if she had moved and moaned in her sleep? And he’d heard?

She stormed to the bathroom, needing cold water. No, she needed a cold shower. And then she’d have to face him. There was no getting around that.

****

Kaos managed to multi-task in his human vessel, filling the air with the smell of butter and eggs while Lust replayed Jaxi’s glorious undoing from every angle. He still had her cocooned in his powers from the night before. Now that he was spiritually connected to her, he had every reason to use his trueform when he could. Kaos understood jealousy and obsession infinitely.

But his human’s take on the topic was altogether different. Not in its passion but its needs and desires. It didn’t want to share. At all. Even when watching her sleep, touching her while she lay saturated in the aftermath of Kaos, kindled a rage in his human side much like his spiritual one. Only it was without power to act. A futile rage. Like an infant version of his spirit form.

Kaos wagered once Kohl tasted her, his obsession to have her at all times in both forms would weaken his jealousy and allow their addiction to merge as one.

The bedroom door opened, and he tracked the cadence of her walk.

Time to learn if she remembered anything. Rage and Lust had insisted he etch their binding eternally into every part of her. And he’d agreed. Then erased it anyway.

If he failed to block her memory, it was out of his hands and officially in Kade’s. But why shouldn’t she remember? It was a dream. She had plenty of those she remembered. Which is why they were the perfect place to hide in.

She stepped into the kitchen with a gentle sway, her movements quiet, slightly guarded. “Something smells good,” she said, voice soft with sleep.

He weighed her tone. It was more of a polite offering than a real comment. “I decided to cook for you.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she eased onto the stool, putting her hands in her lap. “I see that,” she said. Quick smile.

He set her plate in front of her, then met her eyes. Flashes hit without warning—her lips parted beneath his, her body writhing under his hand, the sound she made when he bit herthroat. He broke the connection and turned to the stove. “You sleep okay?”