Chapter 78: The Wettest Dream

Ren whipped her head toward the source of the voice so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Her face, already flushed from the lingering heat of her dream, turned a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous.

There, lounging in the center of the steaming, sacred pond, was Syris.

The bioluminescent moss on the cavern ceiling cast a soft, ethereal glow over the water, highlighting the ripples as he moved. The water reached his waist, obscuring the “Twin Swords” she had just been vividly dreaming about.

His pale skin glistened with moisture. Water droplets clung to his defined pectoral muscles, sliding slowly down the ridges of his abdomen like diamonds on marble. His long black hair was slicked back, wet and heavy, framing a face that was currently looking at her with dangerous curiosity.

Ren was lying on a bed of large, soft leaves at the water’s edge, feeling very much like a deer caught in headlights.

“I… you…” Ren stammered, her brain short-circuiting as images of Syris’ forked tongue flashed behind her eyes.

Syris waded closer. The water lapped against his skin, steam rising around him.

“You were making noises,” Syris told her, stopping near the edge. He rested his arms on the mossy bank, looking up at her. “Whimpering. Gasping. You called out.”

Ren squeezed her thighs together, acutely aware of the slickness between them. “I was… having a nightmare. A terrible, scary nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Syris tilted his head. “You said my name. And the Tiger’s name. Were we frightening you?”

“Yes!” Ren lied, looking everywhere but at him. She stared at a fern. She stared at a rock. She stared at her own feet. “Terrifying. Truly horrific.”

Syris frowned. The water rippled as he moved closer, pulling himself up slightly so his chest was level with her knees.

“Look at me, Ren.”

Syris reached out. His cool, wet fingers captured her chin, turning her face toward him with gentle but firm insistence.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

He searched her face, his thumb caressing her jawline. He frowned deeper.

“Your skin,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles against her burning cheek. “You are burning hot. Are you sick?”

Ren forced herself to meet his gaze. It was a mistake. Up close, with water dripping from his lashes and his lips parted slightly, he was devastating. Her eyes dropped involuntarily to his mouth. She remembered the dream. She remembered the feel of that tongue.

’Oh god, Ren thought, panic rising. ’I want to jump in that water and climb him like a tree.’

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. “I’m not sick. It’s just… hormones. I must be ovulating, a condition called ’Being Thirsty’.”

“Ovulating?” Syris repeated the foreign word, confused. “Is that fatal?”

“Only to my dignity,” Ren muttered. She cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject and get away from his penetrating gaze.

“Where is Kael?” she asked suddenly. “Is he okay? Did he wake up?”

Syris’ expression cooled instantly. He released her chin and leaned back into the water, crossing his arms over his wet chest.

“I will tell you where he his,” Syris said slowly, “once you tell me what that dream was about.”

Syris’ mind raced as he watched her hesitation. Had his dream-self bitten her? Crushed her? The thought that she was avoiding his gaze out of fear made a cold knot form in his stomach.

“Why do you hesitate?” Syris asked quietly, his voice losing its playful edge. “Did I… hurt you in this dream? Did I make you bleed?”

Ren blinked, snapping out of her daze. She saw the genuine worry in his eyes and felt a pang of guilt. He thought she was traumatized, when in reality she was just horny.

“No!” Ren exclaimed. “No, Syris, you didn’t hurt me. Not like that.”

“Then why?” Syris pressed, moving closer to the bank again. “Tell me.”

Ren sighed, realizing she was cornered. She slumped on the leaves.

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the bubbling spring. “It was… the opposite.”

“It was a… soil dream.”

“Soil?” Syris looked at the dirt on the bank, utterly baffled. “You dreamed of gardening? You were planting vegetables?”

Ren groaned, burying her face in her hands. “No! Dirty! It was a dirty dream! Impure! Messy!”

Syris looked completely lost. “You dreamed of mud?”

Ren squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t believe she had to say this out loud.

“I dreamed about sex! Okay?!” she blurted out. “I dreamed that you and Kael were… doing things. To me. At the same time.”

Silence.

The only sound was the water bubbling and the distant chirp of a cave cricket.

Ren kept her eyes shut, waiting for his reaction

The voice was closer now.

Ren cracked one eye open.

Syris was looking at her, but the worry was gone. In its place was a look of pure, unadulterated surprise, followed quickly by a darkening of his pupils.

“You dreamed of mating,” Syris clarified slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his wet lips. “With both of us. Simultaneously?”

“Yes,” Ren squeaked. “And it was… intense. And now I can’t look at you without thinking about it and it’s embarrassing!”

Syris hummed. “Is that what you want?”

Ren’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

’Is that what I want?’

Her brain immediately conjured the image again of Syris and Kael in their naked glory.

’The geometry doesn’t work,’ Ren thought frantically. I am a compact hatchback. They are two semi-trucks. I would be wrecked. I wouldn’t be able to walk for a week. I’d need a wheelchair and a donut pillow. My pelvis would resign.

“I… I…” Ren’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

Syris watched her internal panic, and the smirk widened. He had no idea his little mammal had such a voracious imagination. It was… amusing. But it also sparked a flicker of possessiveness.

“You are thinking too much,” Syris murmured.

He placed his hands on the rocky ledge and pushed himself up.

Water cascaded off his body as he rose from the pond. He didn’t bother with a towel. He stepped out of the water, fully naked, magnificent, and entirely unashamed.

Ren’s eyes widened. She immediately locked her gaze onto a small red bug crawling on a nearby fern.

“Oh, look!” Ren shrieked, her voice an octave too high. “A ladybug! It has… spots! One, two, three… very nice spots. Fascinating creature. Truly a marvel of nature.”

She refused to look left. If she looked left, she would see the Twin Swords. And if she saw the Twin Swords right after her dream, she would definitely pass out again.

Syris chuckled. He walked over to her, his wet feet silent on the moss. He reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her up from her seated position.

“The beetle is not that interesting,” Syris whispered.

He spun her around.

Ren gasped as her back collided with his wet, cold chest. His arms wrapped around her waist, locking her against him.

And then she felt it.

Pressed firmly against her lower back, right at the base of her spine, was something hard. Very hard.

The cold, slick texture of his skin sent a shiver racing down her spine, but the heat of his breath against her ear made her knees weak.

Ren clamped her thighs together, her breath hitching.

Syris tightened his grip, pulling her hips back until she could feel the distinct outline of his arousal pressing against her glutes.

“What if I claim you right here?” he purred, his voice dripping with possessive venom. “What if I take you so thoroughly, so deeply, that when you close your eyes, you see only me? Until you don’t dream of anyone touching you except me?”

Ren whimpered. She didn’t have time to process the threat, or the offer, or the sheer overwhelming arousal that crashed over her.

Syris didn’t wait for an answer.

He spun her back around and smashed his lips onto hers.

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