Page 64 of Twisted Truths

Then I hear it more clearly—a voice, strained and urgent. Not talking, like I first thought. Crying out.

Nash.

Swallowing down my fear, I creep down the hallway towards the sound. The door at the end is half-shut, soft moonlight spilling through the crack.

I push it open.

Nash is tangled in his sheets, still wearing his dress shirt and slacks from earlier. Sweat darkens his hairline, and his face is twisted in a grimace as he breathes heavily. He jerks once, then again, mumbling something I don’t catch.

“Nash?” I whisper, drifting towards the bed.

“No.” The word is dragged out in a painful groan that threatens to rip my heart from my chest.

“Nash,” I repeat, a little louder this time.

“Please, don’t touch her.”

“Wake up, Nash.” I reach out and brush his sweat-soaked curls off his face.

He wakes with a start, and with lightning quick reflexes, grips my arm and pulls me onto the bed. I let out a soft yelp as he rolls until I’m trapped beneath him, one of his arms braced beside my head, the other still wrapped tight around my wrist.

We freeze, both of us wide-eyed and breathing hard, our chests rising and falling in tandem. His face hovers inches above me, eyes wild and unfocused for a heartbeat before they lock on mine. Shock flickers over his features, then confusion … then something else. Something that makes my pulse trip over itself.

Neither of us moves.

“Hadley?” he finally chokes out, his voice thick with sleep.

My cheeks are like two twin flames under his intense gaze. “You were having a nightmare.”

He swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement. Still, he makes no move to release me. It’s then I feel the unmistakable bulge pressing into my stomach and the flames spread from my cheeks to ignite my entire body. I squirm, which only makes him grow harder, and Nash squeezes his eyes closed, muttering a curse before finally releasing me and rolling again until we’re side by side, creating a small gap between our bodies that suddenly feels infinite.

I shiver from the loss of his body, battling with my need to be close to him versus my guilt over knowing I’m spoken for by the man sleeping down the hall.

While Gabriel and I are no longer a part of the Circle, it’s hard to forget what has been ingrained in you for so long. When I joined them, I was immediately placed into the care of Ascendent Sierra to prepare me for the Awakening. I went through all the lessons with the other girls my age, which drilled into us the importance of being Chosen to fulfill the prophecies of the light. Gabriel may have taken me as his Chosen as a sense of duty to my sister, and to keep me safe, but that doesn’t mean I should throw it in his face by taking things further with Nash.

For me, the kiss at the church was a goodbye. Convinced that I would never see Nash again once I returned to the Circle with Gabriel after Zara’s funeral, I wasn’t expecting to be staying with him less than twelve hours later, let alone lying in the same bed. I may be a virgin, but I have been prepared for what happens between a man and a woman, and I can’t deny the desire that sparks deep within my belly when Nash Stone is near.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I murmur softly when the silence between us becomes unbearable.

The shake of his head would be indiscernible if I wasn’t watching him so intently. “It was … It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t real.”

My heart sinks. He doesn’t trust me to know his deepest fears.

“Okay,” I say, turning my head and trying to find the willpower to leave. I shouldn’t be here.

But Nash reaches over and gently caresses my cheek, forcing me to look back at him. “Will you stay?”

For a moment, I’m caught up in the sadness in his eyes.

I should say no.

I should go back to my bedroom.

Yet I find myself nodding and settling into sheets that smell like him, like citrus and amber.

“Tell me something about you,” he says, brushing my hair off my face before slipping his hand under his head. “I don’t even know your last name.”

Feeling the loss of his touch acutely, I try to hide the disappointment on my face. “It’s Jacobs,” I say with a soft smile.