Page 28 of Revenge (Warriors of the Drexian Academy #6)

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Deklyn

I woke slowly, awareness creeping in through layers of whiskey-induced fog. The first thing I noticed was warmth. I wasn’t in bed alone. For a moment, panic shot through me as hazy memories of the night before tried to surface through the alcohol-soaked haze of my mind.

Then I realized I was lying on top of the covers while she was beneath them, and I was still wearing my pants even if my shirt and shoes were somewhere on the floor. The relief was immediate and overwhelming.

I tried to piece together what had happened after my conversation with Tivek, but my memories fractured into disconnected images. There had been more whiskey, then some stumbling through corridors, and my brother’s steady arm around me as he’d guided me back to the suite.

Then it all came crashing back. My brother was here, on the station. He knew about our deception, and he'd promised to help us with our plan.

I slid carefully off the bed, trying not to disturb Sasha as she slept. The movement sent a spike of pain through my skull that reminded me why I usually avoided Noovian whiskey, but I stayed upright as I gripped one bedpost and glanced back.

Sasha looked peaceful in sleep, her long dark hair fanned across the pillow and her face relaxed in a way it wasn’t when she was awake. Without the constant tension that seemed to drive her, she looked younger and vulnerable in a way that made something protective and possessive twist in my chest.

I forced myself to look away before the sight of her could distract me from the fact that I desperately needed a shower to clear the fog from my brain. I navigated my way unsteadily toward the bathroom on bare feet.

The bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of the suite, all pale polished stone and natural light pouring in from above. I cringed from the brightness as I shed my pants and turned on the shower, running my hands through my disheveled hair as I waited for the water to warm.

Stepping into the open shower with only a half wall of cream-colored stone separating it from the rest of the bathing chamber, I tipped my head to the flowing water.

The spray stung my face as it washed away the stale smell of alcohol, and I closed my eyes and braced my hands on the wall, letting the heat pound the bunched muscles of my shoulders.

It was hard to believe how quickly everything had spiraled.

It felt like moments ago I'd been sneaking away from the academy, planning to handle Sasha's revenge mission alone.

Now I was fake-engaged to her, planning a wedding that would be broadcast across Earth, with my spy brother as an unlikely ally in our deception.

The thought of my Inferno Force comrades made my stomach churn. What would they think when they heard I was engaged to a woman I barely knew? And what would happen when the truth eventually came out, as it inevitably would?

I could probably kiss my military career goodbye. The thought should have terrified me, but as I stood under the pounding water, I realized that I'd sacrifice almost anything for Sasha. I’d already risked my life to save hers.

The realization sobered me instantly. I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a thick towel and walking back into the bedroom.

I was relieved to see that Sasha was still sleeping.

The stress of maintaining our charade was taking its toll on both of us, but especially on her.

This was her mission, her need for justice driving everything we were doing.

I was settling into the chair beside the bed when her face scrunched up, her peaceful expression shifting into something that looked like distress. She moaned softly, her head turning back and forth on the pillow as if whatever dream held her turned dark.

"No," she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and fear. "Please don't?—"

I moved to the bed immediately, sitting carefully on the edge as her breathing became rapid and shallow.

"Sasha," I whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "You're dreaming. You're safe."

The moment my hand made contact, she exploded into motion. Her arms flailed wildly, her legs kicking at invisible threats as screams tore from her throat.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against my chest to keep her from hurting herself as she thrashed against enemies that existed only in her sleeping mind.

"Sasha!" I said more firmly, holding her tight as she fought against my embrace. "Wake up! You're on the Island. You're safe. I've got you."

Her eyes snapped open, wide and wild with lingering terror.

For a moment she didn't seem to recognize me, her gaze searching my face as if trying to determine whether I was real or part of the nightmare.

Then awareness crashed over her like a wave, and she sagged against me, her breathing coming in harsh gasps.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against my bare chest, her voice thick with embarrassment and lingering fear. “I don’t know…”

I held her as she trembled, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat against my ribs. This was what she'd been hiding beneath her tough exterior. The months of captivity had carved invisible scars into her.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I said firmly, my hand stroking her hair in what I hoped was a soothing gesture. "Nothing at all."

She tried to pull away, but I tightened my arms around her, unwilling to let her retreat behind the walls I could already sense her rebuilding.

"Sasha," I said, finally pulling back and cupping her face in my hands so she had to meet my gaze. "You don't need to pretend with me. I was in that prison too. I know what it was like."

Her jaw tightened, and I could see her fighting the urge to deny it, to insist that she was fine and didn't need anyone's help or understanding.

"You can lie to everyone else if you need to," I continued, my thumbs brushing away tears she probably didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks. "But you don't need to lie to me. Especially since we're engaged to be married."

The last part was meant as a gentle tease, an attempt to coax a smile from her, but something shifted in her expression. Instead of the withdrawal I expected, she looked at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Then she was kissing me, her mouth hungry and desperate against mine. This wasn’t the calculated kiss she'd used to prove a point in our suite, but something raw and needy.

The sudden shift startled me, but it didn't take long for me to surrender to the heat of her mouth and the way her hands pushed the covers aside and ran down my bare chest with trembling fingers.

When she deepened the kiss, when I felt her arch against me with unmistakable intent, I forced myself to pull back despite every instinct screaming at me to lose myself in her touch.

"Are you sure?" I asked breathlessly, searching her face for any sign of hesitation or regret.

She silenced me with another kiss, brief but sure, before pulling back to meet my gaze with eyes that held no doubt.

"I've never been so sure about anything," she said, her voice husky.

And despite knowing that this would complicate everything, that it would blur the lines between fake and real beyond any hope of recovery, I believed her.