Page 77 of Claimed By a King

My eyes grow heavier as I just lie there looking at him. His intense gaze burns into mine, and I’m unable to break the contact.

“It’s… it’s really you,” I slur, almost delirious as I try to fight the need to sleep. “I’m… I’m…”

The last words I hear before sleep once again claims me are, “Sleep, Princess. I’ll watch over you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zoe

Tears fall in a steady stream from my eyes as I startle awake.

The room is dark, but I immediately feel the presence of other people near me. “Alana? Gray?” I call out, though my voice cracks as sobs wreck through me.

Oh, God, was it a dream? Are they not really here?

“Gray?” I cry, desperately.

“Shh. I’m here, Princess.”

His deep rasp soothes my frazzled nerves.

“Where?” I demand, reaching for him in the darkness. “Where are you?” My voice takes on a shrill quality as I repeat my question.

“You need to wake up, Princess.”

The words make little sense since I’m already awake… aren’t I?

“Come on, Zo. Open your eyes for me.” As I peel my eyes open—for real this time—I look straight into his dark orbs. “Hi.”

Despite the darkness of the room, which wasn’t just in my dream, I can make his shape out perfectly. He’s lying on his side, facing me. We’re so close we almost touch—almost.

“Hi yourself,” I reply,lamely.

I have so much bundled up inside of me, so much I want to say. Yet, words fail me as I really take in the fact that he’s here. I’m here. And we’re both somehow alive.

Needing to obliterate the nagging voice at the back of my head that tells me this isn’t real, I tentatively reach out and ghost my fingers across his upper arm.

The moment our skin connects, I feel tingles spread from the tips of my fingers, all the way to my toes. It’s an electrical current that I can’t explain, but that I’ve only ever felt around him.

“What are you doing, Princess?” he asks, amused.

At his words, I realize I’ve stopped moving my fingers, and instead dug my nails into his skin. “Oops,” I murmur. “Sorry.”

He makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat, and his voice sounds hoarse as he says, “Don’t ever fucking apologize for touching me.”

“Okay,” I agree.

Sadness makes my heart contract as I’m unable to return the sentiment. But it’s more than that. I crave his touch as much as the idea terrifies me. I want to be cocooned by his big, strong arms so badly the absence of the motion hurts. But the thought of being caged in, held, and yes, even touched a little makes my breathing labored.

“What were you dreaming about?” Gray asks.

I get the sense that he knows I’m wrestling with something and wants to pull me out of my inner turmoil.

“Umm…” I begin, hesitantly. “It was like one of those dreams in a dream. I was dreaming that I woke up, but then I wasn’t really awake… I think.”

“You called my name,” he says, sounding pleased. “You’ve done that a lot over the last few days.”

“Days?” I ask, immediately clinging to the fact that I must have been out of it more than I thought.

Gray shifts, careful to keep the distance between us. “Yeah, Princess. It’s been five days since I finally fucking found you.”

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