Page 113 of The Darkest Hour

And then, with a jolt, I was falling, spiraling down into the abyss, the cave, the stone pallet, and Havoc’s prone form fading away into the black void.

“No. No.” I woke up, drenched in sweat and my heart hammering against my ribs.

I opened my eyes, and the cave, the stone pallet, the masked man, Havoc’s bound form, the bone knife—it was all gone, replaced by afternoon light filtering through the trees.

It was a dream.

I panted as I lay against the ground. The grass was soft beneath my cheek, and the sound of the water lapping against the shore was calming.

It was just. . .a fucking dream.

Yet the fear, the horror of losing Havoc, lingered in my chest.

Yawning, I rubbed my eyes and took in more of my surroundings. I lay on my left with my cheek against the dirt.

Where is Havoc?

I shifted a little and became acutely aware of the warm air on my bare skin.

I’m fully naked? Did that pervert take off my bra and panties while I was asleep.

I sat up slowly and my gaze fell on the branch in front of me where my bra and panties hung to dry.

Oh. He. . .washed my panties and bra. O-kay. . .

Next to them were Havoc's pants.

He washed his pants too. So. . .somewhere on this island is a very naked Havoc.

I turned my head, searching for him, and found him standing in the stream—or rather, what used to be a stream. While I hadn’t noticed at night, I could clearly see that we had wandered to the part of the forest where the water had risen and widened, turning what I thought was a stream into a small river.

I smiled, watching the water reach Havoc's waist.

He had his back to me. His skin glistened with moisture. He splashed water on his face, and the muscles in his back and shoulders rippled with the movement.

Mmmm.

The memories of our passionate encounter flashed through my mind, and a lusty thrill of excitement washed over me.

My skin tingled with excitement too, so much that I almost considered running away, just for Havoc to hunt me down and chase me again.

He would think I was crazy. Well. . .it probably doesn’t matter. He’s fucking crazy too.

A delicious warmth spread through my core, and I couldn't resist the urge to be closer to him.

It was crazy how easily I had gone from being terrified of him, to now feeling safe.

From wanting all the control, to now needing to submit to him.

Perhaps, he had proven to me that he could be gentle, tender, pleasure-giving.

Maybe, he had also showed his ability to truly take care of me, more than anyone else had ever tried. Either way, I found that. . .I actually wanted someone to watch over me. . .especially in this deserted island.

I yearned for it, and was tired of being in control and taking care of myself.

How did he do that to me? How did he get in my fucking head like that?

I slowly rose and remained as quiet as I could to sneak up on him.

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