Page 61 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

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My eyes open as my bed dips down.

There’s a shadow looming above me.

I open my mouth to scream, but all that comes out is a hoarse wheeze before a hand clamps over the lower half of my face. Strong fingers dig into my skin.

“Easy, love,” the voice whispers.

I blink a few times, trying not to hyperventilate, and finally my eyes focus on Caleb.

He pulls his hand away from my lips, raising one eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I unwelcome?”

“Y-yes,” I sputter. I try to sit up, but he’s lying on top of my comforter. It pins me in place. “Get out.”

He seems to contemplate it for a second, then rolls his eyes. “No.”

I watch him warily. He stands, kicking off his shoes. He pulls back the edge of my comforter and slides underneath.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

He moves down so we’re face to face. He puts his elbow on my pillow, propping up his head. “You never apologized.”

I start. “What? Why would I apologize?”

“For going into my guest house without permission.”

I push up on my elbow, too, narrowing my eyes. “Excuse me, Mr. High and Mighty—”

His free hand shoots out, grabbing my throat and forcing me flat on my back. He leans over me, the picture of calm. “Do not test me.”

“It was my—”

His fingers tighten, and I automatically stop talking.

It takes me too long to realize the danger. That nice Caleb isn’t here tonight—his demons are.

“Caleb,” I squeak. I can barely suck air in. My face is on fire. “I’m sorry.”

He loosens his hold, but his face is still a calm mask. I don’t trust it one bit.

His hand moves over my collarbone and down the center of my chest. “You’re not wearing a bra?”

“It’s the middle of the night,” I breathe.

His finger flicks one of my nipples. My muscles clench in response.

He goes for the hem of my shirt. I try to fight him, but suddenly he’s hovering over me. He takes my arms and holds them above my head.

“Don’t move,” he orders.

My breath comes in sharp pants. “W-what are you going to—”

“Don’t speak.”