I sit quietly in that small room; the train boxcar rolls along lazily, pulling the shade down, and I grimace at the full-size bed. Of course, I would dream of a train tonight of all nights. Startled by the slamming of drawers, my eyes flick up, and I see his reflection in the window. 

Verando is putting away our clothes, grumbling to himself as he folds and places them into their assigned drawers. I remember this, I was too injured to act on my impulses, but the way the room brought us so closely together, I recall regretting my injuries for more reasons than their discomfort. 

But today, I don't hurt.

It's easier this way; watching him in the window. His outfit looks so much more ravishing on him than I recall, the frock and snug pants, his tall boots, and the pale blues of his vest. He hadn't betrayed me yet; he was still mine in this realm, and my body longs for any contact.

I sniffle, wiping my eyes and grabbing my pillow to cuddle with as I enjoy this little moment of happiness. I could stay here and watch this all night, pretending this whole thing was a dream and I'd wake up on that boxcar tomorrow morning.

 I might have given anything for a do-over.

"Are you still upset with me?" He asks. 

I freeze, glancing over my shoulder. "What?"

"For making you choose?" 

I swallow hard, my eyes searching this room for any indication that I had dreamwalked, yet this all feels like a memory from the train. 

With a sad laugh, I ignore him. "I guess I wasn't done yelling at you, I had to imagine you here and ruin my happiness to scream at you some more." 

It feels silly now. I think about Rhea's words, I slept with Fillipa; it was almost as if she inclined that he should get a free pass. But I wasn't sure I could make that connection. Fillipa had been necessary; just how necessary was bedding Anuetta?

"You don't have to speak to me, my dreams never quite match the original." I wave him off, crossing my legs in front of me. 

"So, you dream about me?" 

I shoot him a stern look. It was unusual for him to speak this much. Usually dream Verando is only suitable for a few things, inducing a tremendous amount of frustration mentally and sexually. 

"Do you want me to go?"

I purse my lips. "Are you actually here?"

He shrugs, holding up his hands to observe his palms. "I don't know....? You tell me."

Cautiously, I slide to the corner of the bed and take him in. The short distance puts me directly in front of him. Just as he did in the memory, the train bumps, and his hands grasp the top railing of the handholds to secure his position. It proceeds to convince me that this is just a very talented dream thought up by my significantly damaged brain. 

I shake my head at myself, disappointed in my desperation. "Nic, you're a piece of work..." He's still watching me, silent as he gauges my expression. I sigh; this dream Verando wouldn't understand my aversion. "You don't have to go. Sit down."

Obediently, he sits beside me, and I grumble at the lack of space and scoot to the other end of the bed as he slides off his boots and shuts his eyes in relief. Stealing a glance, taking in that clean profile, only the tiniest deviation at the top of the bridge of his nose from where it was reset, I admire him for all that used to belong to me.

 "I..." Get a hold of yourself, Nic. But I have no pride here; this is only a dream. "I saved the city, you know."

He looks surprised, raising an eyebrow as he regards me. "You did, did you?"

I nod. "The magic I took from Alpha was enough to create the storm. I blew the smog away onto the ocean to dissipate, and the rain was enough to keep it down. The sun was shining, if you can believe it." I look away in embarrassment; I'm pathetic. 

Truly pathetic, trying to get approval from a figment of my imagination.

Reaching over, he takes my hand, and I stiffen as he brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "Of course you did, never doubted your ability for a moment." 

How would he know? 

I suppose it was a reiteration of myself; I believed in myself, therefore, this version believed in me. I relish the warmth of his hand on mine, the way his coarse fingers feel against my own, the way his lips brush against my skin.

"I don't think I need your approval anymore," I tell him point-blank, sliding my hand out of his.

"Never said you did. I think you need me much less than you give yourself credit for. You've always been more than capable of doing it on your own, darling." Pulling off his frock, he stands to hang it up, working on the buttons of his vest. 

As much as this hurts, I'm doing okay. My pulse is steady, and my emotions are in check. Turning my attention back out the window, I'm free to watch him without surrendering to the fact that I can't look away. 

"I am doing this on my own. I'm making plans, leading our group, and making the tough decisions. It's hard.. but I'm managing."

 He says nothing, nodding in acknowledgment as he slips off the vest. The silence is deafening, and I turn around sharply, grabbing his belt to spin him around and yank him to me. His expression is bewildered as his gaze meets mine, and I can't help but inhale the scent that was so uniquely his.

"Why did you do it? Why did you sleep with Anuetta?" I plead, my voice hardly above a whisper.

"I didn't want to kill her." He sounds unsure, as if he doesn't understand why I couldn't see that. 

"But you're killing me! She was a horrid person, so why? Why not just kill her? Why do this to me?!" I demand of him; I climb his clothes, pulling so harshly on his belt that he must grasp the overhead rails to stay upright. 

He falls silent, taking me in. "Would it make a difference if I told you?"

"You could damn well try! You can't tell me anything. You keep everything from me; you hide and you manipulate! You say I have every piece of you, but in reality, it's only the pieces you want me to have." 

I feel it bubbling to the surface again, the sob building in my throat. I slap him, half-hearted as it may be. "I'm so. Angry. With you!" I shout at him. "Yell at me! Go ahead! Be the bastard I know you can be, because you've already crushed me! Let me finish hating you, let me go!" I command him.

 Verando says nothing, watching me with such concern that it only spurs my rage. I shove against his chest, my vision blurry from the emotion as I fight against the strangled sob.

"I hate you! I hate you for doing this to me! For doing this to us!" I might as well be fighting against stone; my arms curl around his neck, and I cry into his chest: that steady rise and fall, the pounding of his heart, the warmth of his body is so familiar.

I clutch him, impossibly tight, wishing to strip him of his sins so that we might leave this dream as we were. "How am I going to forgive you for this?" I finally murmured, peering up at him to see that terrorized look in return.

 Finally, he looked as broken as I was; the wall had cracked, and he couldn't hide from me any longer.

"You don't," Verando finally responds, his voice barely audible. "You deserve so much better than this. So much better than me." 

I had tried to quit him before, when I dated Marcus, which felt like an eternity ago. It was excruciating, seeing him with someone else, seeing him happy without me. Producing Rowan with Penelope, I never forgave myself - or him- for allowing that to happen. 

"Just tell me," I beg him. "Tell me. Tell me why you did it. I want to understand. Make me understand." I'm met with only silence. "Why do you have to push me away every time I want to get close to you? Why do you have to keep secrets from me? Why can't you just... trust me?" 

Finally, I have to laugh, because he's a dream, and he can't possibly know what I don't know. I reach up to touch his face. 

Do I know him so well to know that he would choose my happiness over his own? 

Brushing my thumb over his cheekbone, taking him in, I slowly allow my lungs to deflate as I settle against him. "You're just a dream." I remind us both. 

"Am I?" He asks me again with a frown. "What a horrible dream you're having. A nightmare."

Shaking my head, I feel lightheaded as I rest my cheek against his chest, "A figment of my sick imagination. I'm obsessed with you in a pretty unhealthy way. But I can't stop, so I must bring you here. I love you more than you can harm me." Tilting my head back, I stretch onto my toes to kiss him chastely. "We don't even have to fight here. None of this matters... It's all in my head. I can give in here, indulge in myself, and pretend it's all going to be ok."

 The familiar look burns me to my very core, igniting a flame that makes my heart skip a beat. I had been doing so well, yet he was before me, setting me ablaze. My lips parted, and I slowly untangled my arms as I inhaled through my teeth. 

This wasn't part of the dream. 

"None of this matters?" He frowns, "It seems like it matters an awful lot to you. Is this really what you want?"

I should tell him to go. 

I should finish the dream, as that night, we did not stay together, as he was too upset to be with me, and I was in too much pain to share the bed. But here I am, before him, my hands clutching his shirt.

 "Are you real?" I ask him as his lips near mine, hesitating, uncertain as I am of the authenticity of the other. My thumb drags over his lower lip, I will him to confirm for me that he is, in fact, a conscious being.

"Does it matter?" Verando murmurs; I pull him closer to me, stretching onto my toes to hover as close as I dare to that sinful mouth. His lips chase mine, desperate for contact, and I sigh breathlessly, shutting my eyes as if willing him. 

If this is a dream, then what am I waiting for? I could use this to my advantage; I could allow this to be my last entry into this chapter of our lives: a proper goodbye, a final dose of a drug that had become too potent for me. 

"That's not an answer..." I challenge him, shivering at the rough sigh he emits as his hand rests on my hip to pull me into his body. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"More than the air I breathe." His lips meet mine, and I melt against him, pulling him firmly to me as I savor his taste. My body no longer yields to his; I hold my own against him, curling one of my legs around him as he clutches me with his free hand, the other supporting us on the overhead rail. 

"I want to take hold of you." Verando's hand finds my ass as he grasps it, pulling me firmly against him and grinding his hips into my own. "And kiss you here-" His lips find my neck, grazing my jaw with his teeth. "And here." 

He kisses down to the junction of my neck and shoulder. 

I gasped, shivering under his touch. I can't lose it here; I can't let him gain control. 

Grasping his shirt once more, I pull him, tossing him onto the bed. He unceremoniously grunts as his height lands him awkwardly in the small space. I don't care; I have little time before I come to my senses. Climbing into his lap, I crush my lips into his. Fumbling with his pants, I'm yanking and pulling at the buttons in my desperation.

 The large hands collect my face as I feel tears slide down my cheeks, and he tilts his head to catch my attention. "Darling.. Nic... stop."

"What?" I demand. "Why are you always trying to stop me? This is a dream, I don't need you to love me, I want you to fuck me so I can get out of this nightmare and get this out of my system."

 Twisting out of his grasp, I feel the hurt wash over him. Sitting down in his lap, I'm left panting as I notice he's looking away, his hands now resting on my hips. It's acceptance, tolerance; he would do this for me because it's what I asked of him.

"Don't look at me like that, Nic." Verando sighs, "Let's get on with it."

"Do you even still want me?" I demand, frowning, wondering if this was my alterations clashing with the dream version, which had rejected my advances. And yet, that hurt looked so familiar, so current, my mind pushed back on my ability to reason away reality.

Verando's sharp gaze meets mine, gritting his teeth as he knots his fist in my hair. "I will never not want you. I just.. don't want you to do something you're going to regret. " 

Cautiously, ever so slowly, I kiss him once more—patient, building as I deepen the kiss. My hands find his hair, and instead of pulling, I feel the soft tangles, dragging my fingers through the thickness. I'm rewarded with a low growl.

"If this is going to be the last time, I don't want to have any regrets, and if I don't get to say goodbye-" 

My warlord silences me with his lips; I'm lost as I try to recall when we last kissed in such a way. I soak him in as I slide out of my pants, rocking against him in hungry persuasion as he finishes removing his own. I moan low in my throat as his fingers plunge inside of me, sitting in his lap, curled around him to be as close as possible, as I whimper against his neck. 

There was no need for foreplay in a dream, and yet he savored every ounce of me. Teasing me, coaxing me to the edge as I rock my hips against his hand. "Please.. I need you inside of me."

"You're so beautiful when you beg." Verando exhales, desperate as he thrusts himself into my depths. I moan against his mouth, tasting him, exploring his mouth with my tongue as he fills me over and over again.

He rolls against me, slow and hard, those light eyes meeting mine at every opportunity as if he were memorizing my face. 

 I surrender to him; I don't writhe and claw; I melt against him as I become a servant to his divine will. He moans my name low in his throat, finding my neck with his lips so that he can hear me as I pant from the intensity. "Harder." I plead, I want him to do anything but make love to me. 

My mind can't take it, I don't want to remember how perfectly our bodies fit together, how well he knew me. 

Verando is shockingly obedient, giving me what I need, thrusting past my limit as he wraps his arms around me. 

I begin to climb, hot in the pit of my stomach. I let it wash over me instead of chasing my release, and I come apart at the seams as I plead for him in a way that almost embarrasses me—his nose buries in my neck, inhaling my scent as he shudders against my skin. "If we keep going like this, it's going to be over too soon. You feel so good."

"Let me see you, then." I exhale, pressing my forehead to his. His eyes meeting mine, looking at me with such possession, is my undoing. I rarely see him taken in such a way, let alone hear him moan in such a tone. "I want you to fill me, you're so deep." I manage, kissing him, licking his lower lip as he curses.

"You're driving me mad. How am I supposed to let you go? Is this my punishment? Are you hoping to torture me?" His tone makes me frown, yet I cry out as he meets the roll of my hips with each thrust. Using me, taking it out on me just as I asked, my body climbs faster than I can acknowledge his questions. 

"I love you." Verando pleads, sinking his teeth into the crook of my neck as he releases himself within me, and I find my release as I lose myself to the sensation, trembling and grinding my hips against him beyond my control. Riding out the waves of my orgasm, I struggle to comprehend the sincerity of his question.

My body is tired; I know I must sleep, which means I will soon wake up. He doesn't release me, holding me to him as if his very life depended on it. 

"Randy...I have to go..." I finally manage, slowly straightening and brushing my hand gently through his hair. "I have to find a way to free you."

The smile I'm met with is sad, "Free Marisol... but leave me if it means a life without you. I am but a vessel, and I will live my longest life in custody. If this is our last, know I'm okay with this. I don't want to walk this earth if I can't have you, let me not see the light, for I would not recognize it without you."

I watch him, searching his face. 

His hands cup my cheeks, and he kisses me again, slowly against my lips. "I love you. So damned much, Nic." Brushing his nose against mine, I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks.  

When I open my eyes, I'm staring at the ceiling from my abused bed. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath.

Now what?