I snatched the bag from the floor and tossed it into the closet, closing the door harder than necessary. Maybe if I pretended it didn’t exist, it would disappear. I snorted. Yeah, right.
Hefting my suitcase onto the bed, I rummaged around for a pair of pajamas. After changing and brushing the knots from my hair, I yanked the covers back and eased my tired, aching body beneath them.
A sigh of contentment broke free, and I closed my eyes. The bed was, unsurprisingly, very comfortable. The sheets were cool and smooth, the blankets plush, and the pillows were like feathery cotton cradling my throbbing head. At least the cabin was nice, even if everything else was an impending train wreck.
I BOLTED UPRIGHT, A guttural scream ripping from my throat. Sweat creased my brow and dripped down my back. I fought to draw a deep breath, each inhale razor sharp.
“Chloe?” Trent brushed sweaty strands of hair from my forehead and took my hand in his. “Are you all right?”
I gasped, and my eyes snapped open. Where was I? I glanced around frantically, trying to get my bearings. My attention snagged on Trent. Dressed only in cotton pajama pants, he squeezed my hand, his face full of concern.
My gaze wandered around the unfamiliar room—dark wood walls, hand-carved bed frame and furniture, fluffy tan area rug—until my eyes landed on Jax. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing only a pair of gym shorts. Behind him stood Sean. The three of them stared at me.
“Um.” I cleared my throat and wiped the tears from my eyes. “I had a nightmare.” Talk about lame. “I’m okay. Sorry I woke you.”
Sean nodded, then left.
Jax hesitated as if he wanted to say something, but then he furrowed his brow and spun away from the door.
“Chloe?” Trent cupped my cheek, and I turned my attention back to him. His eyes were semi-dark, and the longer I looked into them, the bluer they became.
“Sorry,” I said again.
“You haven’t been sleeping again, have you?” There wasn’t any accusation in his tone, just genuine curiosity.
I lowered my head. “Not since I got my memories back.” Or since I found out my father was a murderer. I fidgeted with the blanket.
“Do you want to talk about it? Your nightmare?”
“You were changing me,” I whispered. “Against my will.”
He put his finger under my chin and tilted my head so I was looking at him. “You know I would never do that, right?”
I nodded. At least, I hoped he’d never do that, but once he knew the truth, he might change his mind. But until or unless that happened, right now, he was still my Trent, and I wanted to hang onto that for as long as possible.
I adjusted so I was on my knees, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his. He let out a low, guttural growl that sparked a desire I didn’t know I possessed.
His hands landed on my waist, and he kissed me back. Hard. Desperate. Then he scooped my legs out from beneath me, laying me flat on my back, and he was on top of me. I gasped but welcomed his mouth on mine once again, settling beneath him as if this was something we did every day.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I asked in between kisses.
Trent pulled back, his expression a mix of desire and torment. “Because of your nightmare? Or because of something… more?”
The implications of that single word—more—sent shivers through me. As enticing as that thought was, I still wasn’t ready to take things that far.
“After everything that happened with Hannah, I couldn’t sleep,” I said.
“I remember.”
“Except when you’re next to me. Then I can sleep.” My voice caught on my admission. There was no taking it back now. “You make me feel safe.”
The most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen graced his flawless face, and all the breath rushed from my lungs. I loved him so much it overwhelmed my senses and sent my synapses into overdrive. Everything inside of me buzzed and hummed and crackled.
“Please?” I whispered.
He placed a tender kiss to my forehead, then my lips. “I’ll always stay with you, Chloe.”
Despite his low, husky tone, his words echoed around me, solidifying my feelings for him. He rolled off me, laid on his back, and wrapped his arm around me.
I snuggled closer and rested my head on his chest. “Thank you,” I said around a yawn.
Trent was silent for a moment, and then he asked, “Why were you dreaming about that?”
I froze, unsure what to say. Giving an awkward shrug, I mumbled, “I don’t know.” But I did know that I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep lying to him.
“What do you think this coven wants with me?” I asked.
“I’ve been asking myself that question for weeks now, and I still don’t have an answer.” He trailed his fingers up and down my arm, sending the best kind of shivers through my body.
“And you’re positive they’re not working with the Zoya?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Like my father said, the Zoya are deep into dark magic. The Rose Coven isn’t. They’re traditional witches. They draw their magic from nature, and they never upset the balance. That’s why none of this makes sense.”
I slipped my arm across his stomach and wiggled closer. Trent’s arm tightened around me. “Why do they call themselves the Rose Coven? Is it because that’s Samara’s last name?” I asked.
Trent stiffened, his hand freezing mid-stroke.
Oh, no.
My ears rang. My neck and ears burned with the stark realization of what I’d just said. My heart beat wildly against my ribcage. Pushing against Trent’s chest, I slowly sat up. How was I going to get myself out of
