The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance (Trisha Telep) (Kitty Norville 0.50)
“What? What do you want?” She was desperate for him.
He lightly traced her cheek. “I want this to be real.”
“Isn’t it real? It feels so real.”
“I’m lying, broken, in an underground place. You are sleeping in a room far above me. The darkness, it presses me.” His gaze was remote, like he saw two things at once.
“But you’re here with me.”
“It’s illusion, all illusion. I’m very good at illusion.”
“Show me what’s real then.”
His mouth twisted. “You don’t want to see that.”
“I do.” Natalia touched his face. “All my life I’ve only had dreams. When I thought I’d found real love, real life, I was deceived.”
Ochen seized her hand in his strong one. “Then come to me. Help me. I’m at the bottom of the house. They locked me in a room behind . . .” His brow puckered. “Long stems that make noise.”
Pipes, Natalia thought. Delia had put him behind her boiler room, the cow. “I’ll come to you,” she said. “Now.”
His dazzling, sinful smile returned. “I will be waiting.”
“I’d be more flattered if I didn’t know you had no choice.”
“I would wait for you if I were free in my forest or across the wildest deserts. I’d wait.”
“Oh,” she said. “I like that.”
He gave her a slow kiss, his mouth playful and at the same time masterful. “Please come to me,” he said.
He kissed her again, then his body faded, the press of his lips the last thing to go. Natalia found herself holding empty air, and then she woke with a gasp.
She sat up on the bed, her dress whole and laced. The room was darker, most of the lights burned out, and she was alone. She swung her legs out of bed, slid her feet into her shoes and quietly left the room.
Ochen lay cramped in the dark, his hands twisted behind him, the rope burning his throat. If not for the witch rope, he could transport himself instantly back home. He couldn’t even wriggle free because the bewitched rope drained him of strength. He could only think and wait. Would she come?
It had been tempting to stay in her fantasy, to make love to her. But he hadn’t lied when he’d said he wanted it to be real. All his life he’d searched for a female he could love, one he could take as his own. He never thought it would be a human woman, a high-born lady of the hated Bor Nargans.
The people who ruled this land took and took and took. They used Dream Catchers - when they could find them - like beasts of burden. They were used until drained of magic, and then discarded, left for dead. Dream Catchers thrived on emotion and passion, something these people had banished from their lives.
Lady Delia fitted that pattern. She’d kill Ochen in the end. Natalia, on the other hand, had compassion in her. Her fantasy contained nothing brutal or selfish. She was starved for love, craving the physical satisfaction that the women of her land shunned. They thought her horrible for giving in to her true nature. Ochen found her beautiful.
He heard footsteps outside the door, light ones, not the heavy tread of Delia’s tame hunters. The hunters had not even bothered to stand guard, knowing Ochen couldn’t possibly escape.
Something scraped at the lock on the door, then it gave a satisfactory click. Cool air flooded him as the door opened. Natalia dropped to her knees beside him.
“Ochen,” she whispered. She lifted his head into her lap, ran light fingers over his hurt body. “They broke your leg. The bastards.”
“Because I’m so dangerous.” Ochen tried to smile then clenched his teeth over the pain.
“I’ll take you to my house. My servants will help me get you out. They’re loyal to me. I have healers.”
“No,” he croaked. “I must be freed.”
He peered up at her with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. She glowed with beauty. Her red hair flowed like flame over her shoulders to be swallowed by the red of the dress. “I don’t know how.”
“Cut the witch ropes, take them from my skin. Then I can return to my people who will heal me.”