The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 54

The dreams struck thrice more that night, icy cold, laced in frost and darkness. Sam would wake to Crynia writhing in her bed, her moans of pain slowly fledging into screams that tore him fully into consciousness. He'd pull her from the sheets and hold her as she sobbed, woken from her torment by a single touch. Sam didn't know why it worked, or how, but it did. That was what mattered.

It was the third time it happened that he finally gave up on the chair. After the second, he'd tried holding her hand, but he shifted and let go in his sleep, and her screams shattered his own dreams like glass.

"You're okay," he'd whispered as he held her trembling body. "You're okay. I've got you."

He didn't let go, that time.

She didn't wake again the rest of the night.

***

It was the sun that woke her. The touch of warm light on her cheek was so strange, so foreign and sweet it somehow managed to pull her from the deepest sleep she'd had in weeks.

The curtains were rippling lazily in the hot breeze that came through the window, shadowing the sunbeams that fell on the blanket that was still draped haphazardly over the empty chair. The fresh air was a blessed contrast to the consuming darkness of her nightmares in the hours before. Everything glowed. Everything was quiet. Peaceful.

Someone stirred in the bed beside her when she pulled the sheets over her shoulders and yawned. Sam's arm tightened a little around her waist, warm and strong.

Crynia smiled drowsily to herself and turned over. Sam's eyes were still closed, his messy hair and his eyelashes glowing copper in the sunlight. He looked so young like this, still marred by worry and grief, but relaxed, even with the shadow of a furrow between his brows. Maybe this was what he looked like without the mask he put on daily, that shield he raised against the bad things. Vulnerable. Maybe a little wounded, but still hanging on to hope and joy.

His mouth twitched in the smallest of smiles when she kissed him. It was a soft kiss, sort of sleepy and warm. Chaste. The kind of kiss she'd thought her first might be like, where her bones felt heavy in a good way and those strange bits of lightning ricocheted in her stomach until they muddled her thoughts. It'd ended up differently, swift and bashful, and she wouldn't have traded that memory for anything, but this...this was heaven.

Sam breathed out when she pulled back, long and slow, without opening his eyes. Then, with drowsy lethargy, he hugged her close and buried his face in her hair.

"Morning," she whispered as he breathed her in. Sam purred a soft reply against her neck and draped his leg over hers beneath the sheets. A gentle laugh slipped past her lips. "What happened to being decent, hmm?"

"Screw decent," he murmured into her hair, voice rough and husky. "You're warm and you smell good."

Crynia laughed again and rested her cheek against his shoulder. That bone-heavy feeling was everywhere now, thick and rich like honey. Maybe this was what love felt like, real love. Painful in an addicting way. Sweet as sugar and bitter as hell. Quiet and chaotic and nervous and so full it left you feeling like you could run forever, but only with one person.

"A lot happened yesterday," she said into his shoulder, almost a whisper but not quite.

"We kind of jumped in the deep end of this, eh?" Sam said softly, his words warm against her skin. "Just dove right in and hoped for the best."

"Yeah," she agreed, her nose touching the hollow of his throat as she smiled. "Can't say I minded the kissing, though."

Sam huffed a sleepy chuckle and drew back enough to face her. His eyes were still half-closed, blue-green and coming to life with mischief as he pulled the sheets over both their heads. "Wanna do it some more?" he whispered, moving so they were no more than an inch apart. Crynia blushed like a grape. Sam laughed and kissed her nose. "You're adorable."