Page 138 of The Auction Block

He runs his hands down my back and I cry out. My skin hurts from him hitting me.

"Oh, Mihnea, I'm so sorry."

I shoot up in bed, sweat dripping from my forehead as I gasp for air.

What the fuck? It can't be true . . . it was a dream.

I know it's true though. My dreams have always been the same. They aren't dreams. They're flashbacks.

"Mihnea?" I whisper to myself.

"Who's Mihnea?" Blake says, brushing my hair back.

I look over at him, eyes wide. We'd come to bed a few hours ago, but it feels like longer. I run my hands over my face, the name repeating in my head.Mihnea. My heart starts to race, my breath quickening.

"Me . . . "

I jump out of bed, wearing nothing but boy shorts and a sports bra. Blake is right behind me, yelling my name as I bolt down the stairs into the living room. Thank God, Dr. Saladinya decided to stay the night here.

"Hastin," I scream as I romp through the living room, toward his bedroom. "Hastin!"

He comes running out of his room, stopping just short of colliding with me. "Lily, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Mihnea. It's Mihnea."

"What? What's Mihnea?"

"My name. My birth name. It's Mihnea."

His eyes widen as he glances over my shoulder. I turn my head to Blake standing next to Vlad and Dresden, their mouths slightly open, shocked expressions on their faces.

"Let’s go in the office and talk, okay?"

"Okay."

I turn and hurry to Blake. Reaching up, I grip my hand around the back of his neck, and pull his lips to mine, giving him a hard but brief kiss. My heart's pounding in my ears at this new revelation. Nineteen years and I've never been able to recall this detail of my formative years. It's like something has lit a fire under my ass, and for once, I'm eager to share this with my good doctor.

I rush into his office and shut the door, more forcefully than I intend.

"I was asleep and had a flashback. I don't want to use that name, but I wanted you to know. It was Mihnea. My name was Mihnea," I say quickly.

"Well, Lily, I think, for once, you're moving in the right direction."

I smile at him, running my fingers through my hair. "I don't know if I want to remember, but . . . maybe it will help me figure all this shit out."

He grins. "I think you're right. Tell me about the flashback."

I sit on the chaise and take a deep breath.

Here we go . . . again.

The team ishuddled in my office for last minute planning. Blake's charity event is two days away and he's spent the last four days putting this thing into overdrive. After our family dinner the other night, he dove into planning headfirst.

"So, are we missing anything," I ask, shuffling through all our paperwork for a fourth time.

"No, ma'am," Vlad says, straightening himself from the front of my desk.

"Well, let's all get some rest. This event is going to give us all gray hair," I say, dismissing them.