Page 30 of Madness Becomes Her

“Shh. It’ll be alright, Tiger Lily,” he coos, pulling me into him.

He spoons in behind me beneath the covers, his body pressing to mine as emotions feel like they’re just below the surface, as heavy as lead in my veins.

“What was that fight? It was so awful.”

“The queen’s hate bubbles over sometimes.”

That’s such a nice way of putting what I witnessed back in my dreams, rather, nightmares.

I ignore the way my body responds to his proximity, shutting my brain’s spiraling at the way my thighs press tighter together the tighter he holds me down.

No good will come of lingering on the idea of us being more than we already are.

I was close to a portal home in my dreams, like I knew before how to get home. Like there was more than one way.

“I met Ariadne when we were in the palace yesterday,” I whisper. “Re-met her? I don’t know. Anyhow, that’s where Iwas.” I don’t know why I’m telling him. It feels like the lightest subject I can bring up to alter the hefty mood in the room.

“She’s the sunshine in the night,” he says, his tone lifting.

His words, while upside down, make me smirk. I know he means she’s the sunshine after a storm. The longer I’m here, the more I understand him. Or maybe he wasn’t that hard to understand all along? Either way, I fit in rather nicely. Like I’ve always belonged.

“She is,” I agree.

I turn onto my back, and his arm stays around me, shifting over my belly as my shirt—his shirt—rides up, our skin touching.

An inferno rises in my belly. My eyes flick down to where our skin heats against one another. When I finally pull my gaze away to look at Finlo, his eyes are likewise glued to where our bodies press together.

“Was it just awful?” he asks, his voice hoarse with lust, and I have to force a swallow over the gravelly sound of it.

It’s a question he’s asked me before, and I have a feeling it’s one he’s going to ask until I have an answer.

“I don’t know yet.”

He tips his chin down. “Tell me when you do?”

“I will.”

I could argue that we’ve already had this conversation, but there’s a dense meaning behind his question that I think is more than it appears like everything in this place.

Everything here is just left of right, upside down, topsy-turvy—even Finlo.

“It’s so different this time,” he whispers, his head leaning down. Forehead pressing to mine, he closes his eyes. “You’re so different. What did the world up there do to you, Tiger Lily?”

“Broke me a little,” I admit, realizing it’s the first time I’ve spoken it into existence.

His eyes open, his face remaining pressed to mine. The sizzling connection between us has me spinning. It’s like electricity our bodies produce, specifically charged to ruin us both.

“How do we repair you?” he asks, his eyes so innocent.

“I don’t know that we can.”

Sadness dances in his eyes. “Everything can be repaired. Don’t be a fool.”

I grin. “Then I just don’t know the answer. I don’t know how we repair me.”

“First, you’ll need a hat.”

I laugh, and he peels his face away from mine. “How will that help?”