Page 82 of Betrayed in the Dark
After waiting another moment, I begin to slide down the satin sheets when I hear the same blood-curdling shout again, causing me to bolt upright.
Eli.
I reach inside my nightstand and grab my gun before jumping out of bed and swinging my bedroom door open. The sounds of distress continue from the other side of his door, growing louder as I approach.
Taking a deep breath, I cautiously push open the door, peeking inside while keeping my gun steady in front of me. His room is darker than mine, with the curtains closed, but I can justmake out his figure on the bed. He’s thrashing violently, and the blankets and pillows have been tossed to the floor. There’s a sheet twisted around his leg that he’s struggling against.
He’s having a nightmare.
Relief causes my tense shoulders to drop slightly, realizing that there’s no one here causing him physical harm. However, as I watch him suffer from his visions, I know I can’t leave him like this. Lowering my gun to my side, I step inside. The plush carpet allows me to enter silently as I approach his bed and place my gun on the nightstand.
“Szhech’ yego,”he mumbles into the pillow.
I freeze, my ears catching unfamiliar words. It’s been a few years since my last Russian class, but I’m almost certain he said, “Burn him.”
A knot twists in my stomach.
With a slight tremble, I reach out for him. His handsome face is scrunched in agony, his fingers clawing at the sheets. His chest heaves as he continues rolling around, unable to find peace.
Knowing how much agony he’s in causes a heaviness to spread through my beating heart.
Just as my fingers brush against his cheek, Eli’s eyes suddenly open wide, appearing unfocused.
“Hey,” I whisper. “You were having—”
In an instant, I’m thrown onto the bed, his fingers wrapping tightly around my neck, holding me firmly in place.
“Eli,” I breathe. “It’s just me.”
He doesn’t hear me. He’s lost in whatever depths his mind has dragged him to—a place I’m sure is his own version of hell.
His beautiful brown eyes lock onto me like a target, but they aren’t seeing me.
They’re seeing the monsters that haunt his nightmares.
His grip tightens around me, allowing just enough airflow for shallow breaths.
“Eli,” I say calmly. “It’s Madeleine. You’re safe. You’re at the Alarie Estate.You’re home.”
He blinks, and a flicker of realization crosses his face. His grip loosens, and with his next breath, his eyes finally focus on me, clouded with immense regret.
“Madeleine?” He scans me from my eyes down to my neck, where his fingers still rest. “Fuck!” He jolts back, his chest panting as the reality of what just happened sinks in. Horrors dance across his eyes, refusing to leave him. “You need to get out of here,” he states, staring at the sweat-stained sheets.
I sit up, reaching a hand toward his face. “Are you okay? I heard you scream, and when I—” He grips my wrist, holding it in midair. Our eyes lock; his are darkening by the second.
“I need you to promise me that you won’t come in here again,” he pleads, pain twisting his features. “Especially when you hear me scream.”
“You were having a nightmare. I only wanted to—”
“You can’t help me,” he rushes out, dropping my hand. “Don’t you realize that I almost fucking hurt you, or worse?” His shoulders slump as he lowers his head, looking lost and maybe ashamed.
“You could never hurt me,” I whisper.
He scoffs. “You don’t bloody know that.” He wipes his arm across his forehead, where sweat lines his temple. “If I ever hurt you, Madeleine…” He swallows hard. “I could never forgive myself.”
My heart breaks at the sight of his pain—pain I’ve never experienced and can never truly understand.
Carefully, I slide out of bed and retreat to the en-suite bathroom. I grab a washcloth, hold it under cold water, and wring it out. As I walk back into the room, I find Eli in the same position I left him.
