Page 37 of Sweet Nightmares (Wicked Mirrors #2)

In a moment of lull, after twenty minutes of just being there with her, he said, “I’m sorry.

” Only two words. He let her see him, and she believed that, possibly, he might have meant his words.

He might actually feel bad about what he had done.

“I wish for you to dance. I wish for you to do whatever you would like to do with your body.” A command.

A magical one. It was the most freedom he’d ever given her…

possibly breaking all the commands that came before.

Jane whimpered. Her chest ached with pain and a hint of happiness. She’d longed so long for this—to get her dance back. To be whole again.

“What else do you want… no, what do you need from me, Jane? he asked.

“Let me go,” she breathed. “Let me be free.”

He dipped his head, nearly hanging it. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you want this?”

Jane frowned, sinking into the water, allowing it to cup her skin. She ran a finger along the porcelain. “I want space. I want to choose what happens to me for the first time in my life. I want to be free to do whatever it is I want .”

He lifted his head and leaned over the tub to see her fully. “I left you alone for two years.”

“Because you were angry. You withdrew your presence because you were hurt. That wasn’t for me, and it hurt me too, Alexei.

” Her lips fell below the water, and only her nipples peeked out.

The chain of the necklace holding her wedding ring floated for a moment between her breasts and then fell between the mounds.

She submerged herself fully, closing her eyes and sinking into the heat.

When she came back up, she said, “You were still present. I felt your anger like a ghost haunting me, and even in those two years, you still commanded me. I always do what you want. I live at your whims.”

Nightmare grazed the water with his fingertips, next to one of her breasts. “You want to be free,” he parroted her earlier words.

“Yes.” Her body twisted into the water, and she faced him more fully.

“I’ll give you five days.”

What? Jane sat up, bringing her head out of the water. Was he serious?

Nightmare’s silver eyes swirled and sparked. He was serious.

Jane wiggled her nose and bit her bottom lip, narrowing her eyes on him. “Twenty days. Free me from our bargain for twenty days.”

“Six.”

“Fifteen.”

“Eleven.”

“Deal.” She smiled, water trickling down her forehead, and he glared. “I will come back to you. I promise. But I want you to prove that you can think of what someone else wants besides yourself.”

He growled. “I care about what you want.”

“I believe that… sometimes.”

“Eleven days, but our deal will automatically shift into place again, no matter what happens.”

“No matter what,” she agreed. “But I want to be fully free, Gavriil. I am going to leave my ring here. I will not be your anchor, and you will not spy on me. You will actually let me have a week outside of your influence and eyes.”

“I didn’t always spy on you.” It seemed important to him that she know that.

“I know, it only started after you killed my first husband.”

He grunted. “I will leave you fully alone. It will be like you don’t exist to me, as long as you are safe. Drop your investigation and stay out of trouble.”

Jane laced her fingers through his. “I promise I will not investigate my parents’ murders without you. I just want a week outside of here. A week to think and figure out who I am.”

He sucked in an audible breath. “Alright.” Then he leaned in and sealed their deal—like their very first one—with a kiss.

The effect was immediate, a cold splintering inside her chest. It felt like someone had pierced their claws through her skin, muscles, and tissues and pulled out a chamber of her heart.

It was awful and empty.

Nightmare gritted his teeth and stood up, removing his hand from hers and turning his back to her, and walking out of the room, his back muscles bunching as he moved.

Jane was hit with the feeling that she had just made a terrible mistake, and an even worse feeling like she should have told him she cared for him, that she loved him—in a way.

She wasn’t in love with him, she didn’t think, but it was the closest she’d ever come. to a romantic love and now, stupidly, she’d made him think that she didn’t want to be with him.

She’d begged him to let her go, and he had essentially begged her to stay. But she believed this was what they needed.

Right?

Jane lifted herself out of the bathtub and placed her dripping feet on the rug covering the tile. Grabbing a towel off a rack, she dried herself off and walked back into their suite.

Nightmare stood with his back to her, fully dressed and tying his cravat.

Jane inhaled sharply and walked to her wardrobe, and as quickly as she could, she dressed for Royalle Ballet practice, which thankfully didn’t require a corset.

When she was all finished, she unclamped her necklace, curled it into her palm, and walked over to Nightmare, who still had his back to her.

She ran a hand along his lower back before twirling around him with ballerina-like grace. When she reached his front, she cupped his hand with hers and furled the necklace into his palm, closing his fingers around it.

“Gavriil, I—” love you . Then, on pointe, she grazed her lips across his, for a soft moment. “I’ll be back.”

She didn’t know then just how wrong she’d been. Jane would never be back… At least not like this.

Not alive.