Chapter 18: Of dreams and Arousal
AYLA
"Hold on to me, do not let go." Ares whispered.
My arms tightened around his neck, my fingers threaded into the dark hair at the nape. I pressed closer, folding into him.
He walked faster.
I could feel the tension in his body, the coiled fury still simmering beneath his skin.
We reached the prince’s quarters and he headed straight for his own room. Kicking the door open, he crossed the room to lower me onto his bed then he crouched beside the bed, bringing himself to my eye level.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, his green eyes searching my face.
"I am fine." I nodded.
A muscle in his jaw flexed. He rose to his feet and turned away, pacing toward the window. His hands raked through his hair in jerky movements.
"I am going to kill him."
I sat up straighter.
"Ares, no."
"He did not..." He stopped himself, his back still to me. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. "Did he hurt you?"
"No." I shook my head.
"Then what did he do?"
I looked down at my hands. My fingers were still trembling. I pressed them flat against my thighs to stop them.
"Nothing," I said. "Nothing happened."
Ares turned to face me. His eyes were hard.
"I walked in on my brother with his cock pressed against you, Ayla. That is not nothing."
Heat flooded my cheeks. I dropped my gaze to the sheets, unable to hold his stare.
I heard him cross the room and the mattress dipped as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Ayla."
I did not look up.
"Ayla, look at me."
Slowly, I lifted my head.
His eyes were softer now. The hard edge had gone, replaced by something that made my chest ache.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek.
"This will never happen again. I will have a word with my brother."
"What does it matter what Damon does? Or what any of you do? I am just the Omega you were forced to bond with." I replied bitterly.
Something flickered in his eyes. Pain? Regret? I could not tell.
"Don’t say that."
I averted my eyes, feeling emotions claw at my throat.
"Ayla, about the other day..."
"I don’t want to talk about it" I pulled away from his touch.
"I know about you and Willow," I said. "I have always known. You do not owe me anything, Ares and I expect nothing from you."
"Ayla, please..."
"I mean it." I finally looked at him. "I saw what I saw. You were with her. That is what you do and it is who you are. I am not naive enough to think I could ever be anything more to you than a prophecy you have to fulfill."
His jaw tightened.
"Will you let me speak?" he asked.
The quiet plea in his voice caught me off guard.
I nodded.
He took a deep breath.
"I know it sounds crazy," he said, "but what happened between Willow and me... it was never meant to happen that way. I was asleep. I was dreaming."
"Dreaming?" I frowned in confusion.
His eyes met mine.
"Yes, I was dreaming and I thought...I thought..." He seemed at loss for words. "It wasn’t until I opened my eyes before I realized it was her."
That did not make any sense.
"What were you dreaming about?" I blurted.
He looked at me then, his eyes dark.
"Us." His voice dropped. "Things that would have you screaming for the hills if I uttered them out loud."
Heat rushed to my face so fast I felt dizzy.
I looked away, my fingers twisting in the sheets. My pulse hammered so loud I was certain he could hear it.
"Ares..."
"I know it does not change what you saw." His voice was gentler now. "And I know I have no right to ask for your understanding. But I wanted you to know the truth. You deserve at least that much."
I kept my eyes fixed on my hands not sure how to process this bit of information.
"You should rest," he said after a moment. "No one will disturb you here."
He rose to his feet.
"I could have your friend come to you. Astrid, is it? Would you like that?"
I nodded, still not meeting his eyes.
He walked toward the door, his hand paused on the handle.
"Ares?"
He looked back at me.
"Thank you."
"You do not have to thank me."
"I do."
"Then you are welcome, Ayla." he smiled at me. "Get some rest," he said then he opened the door and stepped through.
I sat alone in his room, my cheeks still burning.
I pressed my hands to my face and groaned.
An unbidden memory surfaced in my mind of Damon’s body pressed against mine, his breath hot on my ear and his fingers sliding through my wetness.
The way, for one split second before Ares had walked in, I had wanted him to keep going.
Shame crashed over me like a wave.
I curled onto my side, pulling my knees to my chest and pressing my forehead into the pillow.
What kind of person did that make me? To want the touch of a man who had spent years making my life miserable? To crave the hands of someone who looked at me like I was beneath him?
I squeezed my eyes shut but the memory would not leave.
Stop it, I told myself. Stop it.
But my body did not listen.
Damon had made my pulse race. It made no sense how drawn I was too him... how aroused I had been, still was...
What was wrong with me?
I lay there, tangled in sheets that smelled like Ares, my skin still tingling from Damon’s touch, wondering how I had ended up here caught between three men who could destroy me with a single glance.
And why part of me desperately wanted them to try.