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completing a project. The only difference now had been Deidra. She often brought something

to nibble on while I huddled in front of my laptop. Did someone bring something for Luka?

Seeing him in such a state deflated the rest of my anger. I picked my way from the door to

the piano. My boot crushed against a piece of broken pottery, but Luka didn’t look up from

the piano. He just kept playing. I stopped at the farthest end of the massive instrument. It no longer surprised me that Luka knew how to play the thing. For a second, I closed my eye and

let the melody wash over me. I pretended I lay in my mother’s bed again, listening to her tell me about Beethoven’s tragic love story.

“You left.”

Luka’s voice drifted into my ears like the sonata his fingers coaxed out of the piano. I

opened my eye and met his intensely blue gaze, fire in them. I hadn’t seen him since the

shoot, and it dawned on me, every time I saw him it felt like I was seeing him for the first

time.

“Just for a couple of hours,” I said, not allowing how good he looked in a dark sweater and

ripped jeans affect me.

“You left,” he repeated.

“I had something to take care off in the city.”

“But you left.”

“Okay, we’ve established that I left. I’m back.” My anger rose as heat climbed my neck to

my face. “You didn’t have to throw a fit just because no one told you I would be gone for a

couple of hours.”

The music stopped. The room suddenly grew very quiet. I stared Luka in the eye,

unflinching in his scrutiny.

“You have a contract—”

“Nowhere in the contract states that I had to be in the manor constantly for thirty days,” I

interrupted the crazy I knew was about to leave his lips. He sat there shocked, like no one had ever spoken to him insubordinately before. Well, good. Let me be the first. “I left because

Christmas is next week. I don’t know if you celebrate that holiday, but at our house it’s

customary to give gifts.”

Luka’s demeanor softened. “You bought me a gift?”

I crossed my arms and looked away from him. “I got one for everyone.”

“
You
bought
me
a gift.”

“It’s nothing special. I just wanted to put something together to thank everyone for being

so nice to me and for making my stay here a comfortable one.”

“What did you get me?” Luka pushed off the piano and padded my way. Barefoot, he didn’t

seem to care about the shards of glass littering the floor. He reached out and I danced away

from his touch.

“Oh, don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, mister.” I poked him in the chest. “You’ll find out

on Christmas day like everyone else.”

“I can’t last that long. Please tell me.”

I exaggerated the shake of my head and gestured at the room. “What do you have to say

about yourself and this room?”

He dropped his gaze like a chastised little boy. “You left.”

A long, drawn out sigh exited my lungs. “I did, but I’m back. You didn’t have to trash this

beautiful room because of it.”

“Gives Yana a reason to redecorate,” he mumbled.

In that moment, Luka too me seemed like a puppy that had been smacked with a rolled up

newspaper for peeing on the carpet. Unsure why, I bridged the gap between us and took him

into my arms. Call me a softy. I could care less. The gasp that tickled my neck when I hugged

him told me he hadn’t expected it either.

“You really have to think about what you’re doing before you do it.” I tsked, stroking the

back of his head.

Luka’s shock wore off in the form of grabbing fistfuls of the back of my shirt. He pulled

me closer until I felt crushed against him. I didn’t mind the constriction it caused on my

lungs. He breathed me in, causing my heart to skip. I held on. Not knowing if he needed it

more than I did. The line between us was never really clearly defined. What were we? Not

friends. Not lovers. Not even subject and photographer…yet.

“I’m only here for two more weeks, you know that right?” I squeaked out. “You can’t go

around destroying things when my contract is up.”

With his forehead resting on my shoulder, I felt him shake his head instead of saw it. The

bolt on his eyebrow dug into my skin. Its cold metal made me shiver. Still, I stayed in his

arms. “I don’t want to think about that day.”

I didn’t want to either, but it was the truth. Once my contract was up, I was going back to

the real world, taking the secrets of Lunar Manor with me. But, for now, I let Luka’s words

erase the looming reality between us. At some point, I couldn’t tell anymore who held whom.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Broken

This had to be the worst part of the dreams.

I lie on the ground thrashing. His weight keeps me down. Sometimes, the knife goes in.

Like being punched. Sometimes, it grazes my skin or bone. I feel it going in. Cold then wet

then piercing hot. I scream and scream, helpless. We’re too far out for anyone to hear. Why

did I think running into the woods was a good idea?

My struggles wane. I can’t feel my legs anymore. The bottom half of my dress is soaked

and clings to my body. He breathes hard on me, and I wince at the rise of chill bumps all over.

His rancid breath coats my skin and makes me feel dirty…used. Slowly, like the blood seeping

out of me, I lose my will to fight. My arms drop to my sides. I’m too tired. So tired.

When my head lolls to the side, he cups my chin and brings me back to face him again. In

the darkness, I can barely make out his features. Then a drop of something thick falls into my eye. It stings. New tears fall—my eye’s attempt at washing away the blood. I see red, so it

must be blood.

As if he isn’t done with me yet, he positions the knifepoint right above my face.

Covered in cold sweat, I pushed off the bed. I scanned the darkness, taking in the room. A

minute passed before I remembered where I was. My lungs didn’t feel right inside my chest.

They inflated and deflated, but it didn’t seem like I got enough air, like something choked me inside. The erratic beats of my heart pushed me to stumble out of the room.

Running my fingers through my damp hair, I looked around the living room. I’d forgotten

to turn off the lights when I went to bed. I shouldn’t have closed my eye. I should have kept

working. Now, in such a big space, I felt tiny and alone. So alone.

I switched from breathing in through my nose to my mouth. My dry tongue felt like

sandpaper in my mouth. No matter how many times I swallowed, the tightness in my throat

wouldn’t ease. A large fist of panic punched my insides, driving me to find the one thing that anchored me to the present.

My camera sat on the desk where I’d left it charging. The black and white photographs

from famous photographers I admired floated across my laptop as my screen saver. A

landscape from Ansel Adams. A portrait by Yousuf Karsh. A fashion shot from the 60s by

Brian Duffy. None of them, in all their beauty, brought me comfort. With shaking fingers, I

unplugged the charger and slung the strap around my neck. Its familiar weight brought little

comfort.

I needed to do something.

I needed to snap out of this state.

My frantic gaze landed on the terrace doors. Even in the darkness, I saw snowflakes falling

from the sky. In a T-shirt and sweats, I stepped out into the terrace. The frigid air latching onto my skin couldn’t bring me back to life. The hollowness in me refused to recede.

Turning to the right, I studied the terrace expanse. One shaking step at a time, shivering

from the cold radiating deep within me, I made my way toward Luka’s room. He said we

shared the terrace. If I walked far enough I would come to double doors similar to mine.

Because they shook so hard, I curled my fingers around my camera. They’d gone numb

pretty fast. The pads of my feet too. I no longer felt the freezing stone.

The longest three minutes of my life later, I reached the double doors. All the lights inside

were turned off. Forcing one of my hands off its death grip on my camera, I flattened it

against the glass. The tips of my fingers were turning blue.

Touching the glass the whole time, I moved my hand toward the brass knob. At the back of

my mind, I prayed he didn’t keep it locked. When I twisted and the door pulled out, I thought

my heart would explode in my chest. Unable to move fast enough, I let the warmth inside the

living room similar to mine embrace me.

I had no idea what brought me to his room now. The push to do something was way too

strong for me to think clearly. I took a second to look around within the dimness of the living area. His space seemed to have the same orientation as mine. The bathroom to the left from

where I stood by the terrace doors, the living area, and the bedroom to the right. An electric guitar leaned against one of the couches. Scattered on the coffee table were several music

sheets and yellow pad paper with scribbled lines on them. A pair of jeans lay forgotten on the floor. About a yard away was the dark sweater I’d seen on him this afternoon.

The divider between the bedroom and living area was left wide open. The spicy sweet scent

of him calmed my taxed lungs. Each inhalation brought much needed quivering comfort. I

turned toward the bedroom and walked inside like a piece of string tied me to the prostrate

body on the bed.

The sheets only covered the lower half of Luka’s body. His bare upper half gave me a

glimpse of the metal bar on his left nipple. My tongue darted across my lower lip. My heart

sped up now for a whole different reason. I shouldn’t invade his privacy this way. But I

couldn’t leave. Not now or I would shatter into a million pieces without anyone to put me

back together. To stay whole, I needed to be here.

He cradled his head with one arm while the other lay across his flat stomach. Lines of

muscle defined each delectable part of his body. The peace on his face called to me. Without

thinking, I lifted my camera and took a series of pictures. One focused on his face while the

rest showcased different distances from his body.

Setting my camera on the bedside table, I reached out and traced his lips with my fingertip.

My mouth still remembered how they felt against me. The skin below my navel quivered in

shared memory. Inch by inch, the hollowness in me receded like a black hole collapsing onto

itself. A tidal wave of relief rushed through me, threatening to buckle my unsteady knees.

Before I could think straight, I reached for the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it off my

suddenly sweltering skin, then tossed it aside. I unclasped my bra, releasing my breasts with

a bounce from its underwire casing. Next I skimmed my hands down my scarred abdomen

and shimmed out of my sweats. I stepped out of them and pulled back the sheet covering the

rest of Luka’s body. His breathing stayed relaxed, deep in sleep. He wore boxer shorts to bed.

I felt it only fair to keep my panties on.

Refusing to listen to my conscience begging me to run back to my room, I climbed onto his

bed and straddled him. Ever so slowly, I lowered myself against him. Without any sort of

prompting, I felt him stir beneath me. Exhilarating excitement at his response even in sleep

rolled over my skin, inspiring me to lower my lips to his. I nibbled and bit and kissed. Still he remained asleep.

I trailed kisses along his jaw and lifted his chin to give me better access to the column of

his throat. Making a stop at the increasing pulse at the base of his neck, I gave it a quick suck before flicking my tongue over it. A groan escaped his lips. I froze, looking up. His eyelids

stayed closed, but his eyes moved rapidly beneath them. He was dreaming. I breathe a sigh of

relief.

Mischief bounced around in my stomach. I wiggled my hips and felt him harden further

beneath me. Heat spread across my face. I should stop. It was the proper thing to do. But if I returned to my room now, I’d be facing the emptiness again, the fear, the pain. I couldn’t do

that. Not right now.

Whether he liked it or not, Luka was my anchor to the present. And based on his body’s

reaction to my gathering warmth, he liked it. Placing my hands on either side of him, I

peppered open-mouthed kissed on every inch of his wide chest until I reached the one place

I’d wanted to lick since I first saw it at the video shoot. I run the flat of my tongue over the bolt on his nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Luka. Emboldened by his response,

I took the nipple along with its silver accessory into my mouth and suck hard. Luka cried out.

Suddenly his hands gripped my hips, putting a stop to the grinding I hadn’t realized I’d

been doing until I couldn’t feel the delicious friction anymore. I sat up and met his surprised gaze. My nipples hardened at finally seeing him awake. Like in slow motion, I watched the

realization form on his face. He wasn’t dreaming. I was really half-naked and on top of him,

having my way with his body.

“Dakota?”

This position gave me perfect access to his erection. I responded by rubbing myself against

his length. His breathing hitched and his fingers tightened at my waist. The rings he wore dug into my skin, spurring me onward. I increased my rhythm, craving for more of his hardness,

more of his heat.

“Dakota,” he said again, no longer a question.

I refused to speak. If I said anything now, the spell would break. I felt way too good to

stop. I kept my gaze locked on his until the blue glazed over. Desire came to life in their