Page 99 of Dance With A Devil

Curled on the floor, a sliver of moonlight revealing the small, trembling shape of her. Athens. My Little Fox. And fuck me, I wasn’t here when the storm started.

That’s on me.

I drop to my knees beside her, gathering her into my arms like something sacred I’ve failed to protect. Her body is warm but shaking, her breathing erratic as sleep and fear fight for control.

“Wyck?” she whispers, voice cracked and dazed, eyes glassy with dreams that never should’ve been allowed to touch her.

“I’m here,” I say, my voice low, teeth clenched. “I’ve got you, Little Fox.”

Her arms slide around my neck without hesitation, like muscle memory, like I’m her anchor and she knows it. I carry her to the bed, peel back the covers, and settle with her draped across me.

The weight of her, familiar and fragile, grounds me.

She shifts slightly, stirring against my chest. I adjust, jaw tight, because yeah, my body responds, but my mind is elsewhere. She’s crying in her sleep because I wasn’t here to fight her nightmares.

And that won’t happen again.

“Go back to sleep,” I murmur, threading my fingers through her hair.

“Thank you,” she breathes, lips brushing my chest. It’s soft. Innocent. It fucking guts me.

Within seconds, she’s out again, heartbeat syncing with mine, body warm and trusting on top of me.

I hold her like I’ll never let go.

Because I won’t.

She’s got this grip on me I can’t explain, this spell I never asked for, but it’s hers.

And in the dark, beneath the thunder and the storm, I let it pull me under.

Letherpull me under.

Like she always does.

Something’s wrong.

I don’t know how I know, I just do.

The air is too cold. The weight of her body, gone. My chest, which only hours ago was wrapped in the warmth of her, now feels like a grave cracked open.

Athens was sprawled across me when I passed out. I remember the way she clung to me after the storm rattled her bones.

But now?

Empty.

I reach over fast, blindly searching. My hand sweeps across the bed and catches soft skin, curves I know by memory.

Her ass.

Relief stabs through me so sharp I almost laugh. Almost.

I sit up, blinking through the shadows, and that’s when I see her.

She’s not far. Draped across Karter’s lap like a goddamn offering, his fingers moving slowly along her spine like he has any right to touch her like that. She’s stripped down to just a sports bra and shorts, sweat still slick on her skin.

“She was burning up,” he murmurs, voice low, unreadable. “Woke up drenched. Stripped her down so she’d cool off. She crashed again not long after.”