Falling in Love with the Man of My Nightmares (That's [Para]Normal #4)

by Camilla Evergreen

He gives up on pulling her off in favor of rubbing one eye. “I’m so sorry about this.” She grabs his shirt and shakes him. “You’re ashamed of me now?” “Meda. Your emotions are important, but they are not the only ones that are.” Scowling, she slips under the table, effectively bumping my knee into Pollux’s. With his heat leeching through his jeans to meet my bare leg, I attempt to remember what I’m supposed to do in a situation that I have never been in before. I’m stuck like a deer in headlights, my brain utterly focused on the sensation of Pollux’s leg against mine.

“Do not push me to punish you,” Pollux hisses, breaking up my pretty fantasies of coconuts and tiny umbrellas. “I don’t readily know how to.” A raspberry blows. An inhuman rumble emanates from Pollux’s chest. “You can’t intimidate me,” Andromeda sasses. “Mrs. Role won’t let you hurt me.” “Care to bet on that, little girl?” Andromeda squeaks, “No.” “That’s what I thought. Sit in the corner and behave yourself until your emotions level out.” Rising, Pollux fixes his glare on me. “I do suppose you wouldn’t appreciate it if I told her to walk home.” My mouth is dry. Because it has been hanging open for a little while. I give my head a slight shake and say, “…no. I don’t think that’s the best idea.” We’re five miles away from their home. Her legs are tiny. It would take her hours. She would get kidnapped. He grunts. “Well, there goes my single disciplinary idea.”

“Telling her to sit until she calms down. Timeout. It’s a good punishment.” He scrubs a hand down his mouth. “Dearest…that’s not discipline.” “Of course it is.” “Surely not.” “Surely yes.” He stabs a finger against the table and leans forward. “Do you know what Andromeda is doing right now?” “Sitting and calming down. Letting her emotions and her thoughts find a place where they can meet rationally. As you asked her to.” “Plotting revenge.” I press my lips together. I tilt myself back and find Andromeda in the corner under the table, rocking and muttering to herself. Her blue eyes spark when she finds me looking. She hisses. I sit back up. “Noted.”

Her sweet little curls should not be pulled, and I feel like I need to stand by that. Even if she’s presenting distinct gremlin behavior and doesn’t seem to be under any sort of duress.

Pollux exhales a laugh. “You have met most of the people I consider precious. They have yet to rear children of their own.” I’m not going to say I love that he refers to his friends as precious people. But I do. It’s beautiful, and once again I’m in awe of his mind.

A curly mass pops up into the seat beside Pollux. “I want to go.” She presents her hand. Pollux puts another piece of bread in her palm. “You weren’t invited.” My heart leaps. “No, no. She absolutely is. I’m sorry. The invitation extends to both of you.” “Ha,” she declares. A low hum resonates in Pollux’s chest. “Will you stop behaving poorly now and promise not to behave poorly in front of her parents?” Andromeda reels. “You want me to promise? I’m a little girl.” “And yet you are not just a little girl.” Andromeda gnaws on her crust of bread for a moment, then sighs. “I promise to do my best to behave appropriately in front of Mrs. Role’s parents for the duration of the Thanksgiving event we have been invited to if this oath is acceptable to my daddy.” “An excellent oath. I accept it.” He pats the seat next to him, and she pops up fully, swings around, and is bouncing merrily when the food arrives.

“I’m actually pretty tired, so I think I’m going to turn in.” And have a conniption in private. Like one does.

“Do we need to get a small turkey for your single father?” For starters, he’s not my anything. Backing down the hall, I clear my throat. “Um. No. They’re also vegetarian.” “Marry him,” my father says, helpfully. I let a dry laugh free. “Good night.” Tucking myself into my room, I find my sweet little Chai curled up on my pillow and sigh.

“It doesn’t make any sense. None. Magic isn’t real.” Swiping his hand to the back of his neck, he grumbles, “Well, not with that attitude.”

Lowering his face to my neck, he plants a dreadful kiss against my skin. “Take a breath.” I let air fill my lungs and grow dazed with the way the tip of his nose grazes my throat. “Good girl.” His voice rumbles.

But now I don’t know who I am, Pollux.” I lift my face to find his. “Do you?” Cupping my cheek, he swipes a tear away with his thumb. “Yes. You are mine.” “That doesn’t really help me with my whole identity crisis here, dreamboy. I cannot find myself if myself is reliant on you.”

I glance at his claw. “How messed up am I if what I need, desire, and want is a monster?” “I’d dare to suggest that your ability to overlook my monstrous parts makes you far less messed up than many.” I stare at him. “No. See. I’m not overlooking them.” His head tilts. “I’m attracted to all of…this.” His brows rise. In order to clarify, I say, “Smash.” It takes him a moment to understand I’m referring to smash or pass, but the second he gets it, red plunges up his neck and out along his pointed ears. “Oh.” He presses the back of his hand to his mouth and averts his eyes. “Well.” “Just so you know, if this is real and I’m actually saying these words to a real person, I will shoot myself.” “Please, please don’t do that.” His throat bobs, and he can’t seem to bring himself to look at me anymore. “I just… I’m not certain you understand how tremendous it is for me to be…wanted, like this.”

“I am in no rush to savor you.” Hot dang. Isn’t that just a statement?

“Wow. That seems kind of racist or something, to not let the unseelie have soulmates.”

“Many unseelie are not worthy of the love that comes with a soulmate.” I grimace. “What are you talking about? Everyone is worthy of love. Even the worst people in the world are worthy of it, regardless of whether or not they deserve it. I believe everyone has an innate worth. Living up to that potential sometimes is where we fall so short.”

Suffice to say, you are a primary interest, and I want you, desperately.”

“I’m spooky?” “Yes.” “Are you sure? Because when I’m stressed, I crochet succulents. And that feels like very unspooky behavior.”

“Pollux, it sounds like you’re suggesting I’m fae.” “Did I not make that clear?” “No, not really.” “Oh.” He blinks. “An accident. What…did you assume I meant every time I’ve said you are an unfathomable creature of horrors?” “I assumed you were really bad at flirting. Or really good. I don’t know. It kind of sends a shiver down my spine when you suggest I’m something powerful and capable of more than cleaning up after a group of gremlin children.” “The concept of flirting baffles me. I do not understand the merit in dancing around the truth of attraction. You consume me. I love you. Your beauty haunts me like one of my most terrible renditions of a wraith, yet I welcome it.”

I swallow. I tell myself I am not very attracted to a man who knows random facts about bones, but, alas.

“Yep!” I squeak. Like an idiot, I touch Pollux’s arm, and my stomach turns over in response to yet again witnessing his muscles.

On the outside, I’m eating mashed potatoes. On the inside, I am hiding under the table.

“What do you say?” “Huh?” Andromeda’s smile falls. “Is this a riddle? Are dessert riddles part of Thanksgiving? I don’t think I have enough information. I say…words. Is the answer words?”

Rising to his full height, Pollux looks down at me, lifts his free hand, and draws one knuckle across my cheekbone. Unwelcome heat rises in the wake of his touch, and the corners of his mouth soften. “All is well, dearest. You are taking this better than my worries had convinced me you would.” “Don’t you dare…” “Dare to what?” I pull my gaze off him. “I don’t know,” I mumble. “Seduce me like that.” He turns his hand and caresses the pad of his thumb around my ear. “Is that what I’m doing? It’s not intentional.” “Somehow, that makes it even worse.” “How come?” “It’s a pride thing. When people are aware they’re attractive or smart, it’s annoying, but if they’re oblivious, if it’s just natural for them, it’s beautiful.”

“Dearest…it is important to me that I tell you this before you go.” I swallow. “What?” “It isn’t inappropriate or wrong for you to desire affection. As someone who has never before been the object of such desires, would you consider for a moment that it might hurt to learn you are not proud of wanting me?” My lips part as his words—the sincerity and directness of his delivery—gut me to my core. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” He touches two fingers to the center of my chest, slightly to the left. “Your feelings matter. The ones you’ve been taught are unsavory have purpose. We do not shame beautiful things like too much love or excitement. We even have a high tolerance for too much mischief. The only things we must reassess are the ones that harm. Wanting me does the opposite of harm.” His head cocks. “Okay?” My mouth goes dry, and I don’t know how to respond without making a fool of myself, so all I can say is, “Will I see you again tonight? When I dream.”

Pollux turns toward the front door. My heart jumps. I don’t know why, but I trip forward, grab the hem of his shirt, and stop him. Beautiful, dark, and monstrous eyes glance at me over his shoulder. “Yes?” “It’s gonna be okay, right? Everything is gonna be okay, right?” “It is going to be better than okay.” Facing me, he lifts my chin and kisses my forehead. “Do not worry, Kassandra. You are loved.” I drive home with Pollux’s words on repeat in my skull. They’re a gentle pound that overrides the things my mother said to me. They’re strong enough to fill my chest with air and guide me to rest once I find my way back to my bed. The idea that I’m loved isn’t foreign. After all, I didn’t grow up in a cold world like Zahra. But…something about the way Pollux said you are loved feels different. Like, for the first time in my life, being loved relies on nothing. For the first time in my life, all the weight of an expectation to play a role…is gone.

Chai’s purring on my stomach means I can’t move anyway. So. You know. This is where I die.

I trace patterns in the popcorn ceiling and debate trying to fall back asleep. Last time I met Pollux in the dream plane, he said I summoned him. I could try to do it again. Narrowing my eyes on the white constellations above my ceiling fan, I contemplate just absolutely yoinking him from his breakfast table. Assuming, of course, he is eating breakfast. My parents haven’t gotten up yet, so it’s still really early. Possibly too early for breakfast. Potentially still early enough for hunting. Which may be a kind of breakfast? I don’t know the rules for being a fear vampire.

If Andromeda wanted to, she could take the form of an adult; however, she doesn’t believe she’s ready to grow up yet. She likes school.” “And being doted on!” her little voice calls through the speaker. “Through a process of intent observation, I have learned that adults don’t get as many cuddles!”

“Sorry,” Pollux says. “I thought she had drifted off.” “Bamboozled again,” she murmurs. “Do the thing!” “Please provide a more specific noun.” “The thing with the video. Here. Let me see.” After a few moments, a request to video chat appears. Because I can’t very well look worse than how I’ve already behaved in my dreams, I answer it. Pollux and Andromeda fill the screen. They’re on the couch, and she’s curled up on his chest. Grinning, she says, “Hi!” Pollux pushes her curls out of his face and lets his lips graze her forehead. “Dear one, I was attempting to have a regular phone call.” “This is better. More emotional clues.”

“Who is Willow if she’s ordering the prince around?” As in, an actual prince. Not just an egotistical cult leader. But, to be fair, I would be wary of someone ordering an egotistical cult leader around, too. Pollux’s eyes close. “I believe she identifies as a threat.” Oh, okay. I respect that.

“That’s kind of creepy, dreamboy.” A touch of heat crosses his cheeks. “I’m still…dreamboy?” “Aren’t you?”

I mean to say, presently, do you foresee wanting that kind of relationship. With…me?” Shivering, I clear my throat and ignore the warmth soaring up my neck. “Define traditional.” “Married couples generally live together. I had not yet gotten an opportunity to offer you a room in my home, but I have been preparing one. And…” He swears and moves his hand to cover his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Kassandra. You terrify me, and I am unused to the sensation of my own fear. I build terror and experience the full saturation of it dozens of times nearly every night. Yet…you. You.” His phone angles off him, at the chandelier on the ceiling. His voice breaks as it comes through the speaker. “You shut my thoughts off. You make it hard to breathe. I don’t fear death, or pain, or suffering, but the agony of not knowing how to express myself to you in a way that could somehow present the case that I am worthy enough to be yours…scares me.” I bite my cheeks to keep from blurting something incredibly stupid. I have long since trained my inside thoughts to not become my outside regrets. But. Also. Dang. He’s a woman’s dream come true, isn’t he?

“I haven’t known quite how to ask before now…but why did you accept my proposal so quickly?” Because. It was a kitten. Because. I thought you were drunk and would accidentally kill it if I let you wander off with the tiny baby. Because. It was a kitten. Honestly, screw the fae and their stupid rules about selling souls for thank yous and getting married over kittens. It’s as though the entire culture is fashioned as an attack against me specifically. I stare down at Chai and rub his soft little belly. Somewhere in my stupid brain a stupid worth it appears. I squash that idiot thought down.

This sweet man. I feel awful telling him I had no idea that accepting a kitten meant I was getting married. He literally proposed to his soulmate, expecting to be rejected, and wasn’t. Afterward, he was so dumbfounded that I had actually accepted, he walked through a bush. Because, as I now know, stimulants do nothing for him and he couldn’t have been drunk.

I am beginning to see why Willow and a man made of fear are friends. She seems pretty terrifying in her own right.

“I was not aware humans felt the need to maintain friends.” “What are you talking about?” “Willow hosts movie night every Thursday because Thursday is movie night. Regardless of attendance, she will watch a movie. Cael can sometimes be absent from these events for several weeks with only a letter of correspondence apologizing for his inability to be present. Friendship is an agreement that doesn’t erode. It doesn’t need to be maintained. It is a quiet knowledge that people will be there for you if you need them, just as you might return the sentiment in their time of need.”

“Phone.” “No.” He rises, plants a hand on the table, and looms over me. I swallow and stare up into his red eyes. Rudely, my gaze flicks down to his soft lips, and I remember the way they feel on my skin. “Don’t be stubborn with me,” he murmurs, and his breath caresses my cheek before his kisses it. “It kind of makes me even more attracted to you.” “Are you intentionally seducing me right now?” “I am distracting you from the fact you’re being pick-pocketed.” I blink. He lands back in his seat with my phone. I slap a hand against the skirt pocket in my dress, and my brain flashes error messages. I didn’t even feel him steal my phone. What? How does he know how to do that? Why was it so effective?

“I’d like to enforce a boundary.” His brows rise. “When I say no, Pollux, I do really mean no.” Calculations spill through his eyes, then physical pain crosses his expression. “I apologize. I am trying to do what’s best for you, but removing your say in the matter does not help that goal. I shall not do it again, and if I learn of your new pin after you change it, I will tell you immediately so you can change it again.” Dully, I watch him, already knowing I’m not going to bother changing my pin. This is the most sincere man I’ve ever met, and he literally can’t lie, so what’s the point?

“Sometimes growing isn’t comfortable. That’s why it is a word often paired with pains.”

You are free to break my heart. I will pretend I have not sensed your arousal every time I am near. I will pretend you did not feel so at peace the first time you joined me for a meal that it subdued you to tears. We do not choose our soulmates, but we do have a choice on whether or not we accept them.”

A swear slips through my brain. He’s right. He never agreed not to bring up my skankish behavior. He just told me he didn’t think begging him to touch me in ways that would haunt me counted as skankish behavior. He continues, “We are married. I am ashamed of nothing that happened, and it hurts me to see you think you should be.”

“A relationship works when both involved parties want it to work. We have many things in common, Kassandra, but even if we didn’t, so long as I find it fascinating the way you light up when you talk about what you enjoy, your interests will begin to become mine. When someone is important to you, whatever is important to them becomes important to you as well. Your values, wishes, and dreams will become what I value, wish, and dream. We are both adults capable of mature deliberation. Loving you is a decision I make with full awareness. I hope, one day, loving me will be one you make as well.”

“Every so often, a being is born of something so pure and powerful their existence alone can change the world. Do you know what is stronger than fear, dearest?” I meet his eyes as the answer comes to mind. It’s too simple. And, yet, it is also more complicated than anything else in the world. Smiling, he says, “Love.”

Pollux says you’re one of us, one of us now, so I found your phone number online after a little digging. I also know your parents’ names and your home address. Willow: Still living with your parents is totally okay, but have we not noticed the pretty spooky manor that could be your home? Willow: Food for thought.

I am still fighting the hit by a truck, how dare you think a nap was a good idea feeling while I contemplate actually going out and getting hit by a truck.

“I require verbal confirmation that Willow isn’t a serial killer. I’d ask if you gave her my number, but I think it’s safe to assume she found it herself if she has the name of my uncle.” As well as, apparently, his current address. Another moment passes before Pollux, reassuringly, says, “Willow is not a serial killer, to my knowledge.”

“The woman snaps rooster necks with her bare hands whenever she breeds her chickens and too many males are born. Also, not once, not twice, but three separate times she has informed me which plants in this area are endangered in case I need to hide a body under something that is illegal to dig up. Also, if I do need to bury a body, she’s told me I should bury it vertically. It takes more effort, but I suppose it isn’t the shape law enforcement officials are looking for when they search for victims of murder. Also, I should bury an animal nearby and at a shallower depth, because then the search dogs will alert to that. Eighty-seven percent is a decent odd.” Eighty-seven percent is a beautiful odd. “I am assuming Willow contacted you?” he murmurs.

“Do you want to go to the bookstore?” “I do like bookstores. I don’t like being murdered and buried vertically under endangered plants.” Pollux exhales a laugh. “My concern for that is zero percent. I respect Willow.” Yeah, I mean, how could you not? “You will be safe with her,” he says. “Promise?” I ask. “I shouldn’t make promises so loosely in such an unpredictable world.” My phone buzzes against my ear. Willow: Alana is bringing snacks. Can I bribe you with snacks? “She’s trying to bribe me with snacks now.” Pollux sighs again. “Because of course she is. Would you prefer if I went with you?” “No,” I state, too quickly. “I’m an adult. I can eat snacks and look at books without a chaperone.” I might even go into the smut section and become even more of a skank. He doesn’t know me. “Pity,” he murmurs. “I miss you.” I didn’t dream last night. Probably because I subconsciously wasn’t ready to see him again. But I still saw him yesterday morning. “It’s only been one day,” I mutter. “After a lifetime without you, one day is too long.”

“Would you like to go out to dinner. With me. Sometime soon. After I spend some time with Willow and Alana and eighty-seven percent don’t get murdered?” “One hundred percent don’t get murdered. Thirteen percent spend time with a serial killer.” “Thank you for the clarification.” He makes a low sound. “Words, dearest. Even over the phone, I can taste the way they cause your soul to touch mine.” I wince. “Sorry. That was an accident.” “Just be careful.”

After letting the still atmosphere of Page Turner ease something deeply wound up inside me, I find Alana and Willow hovering around a display table boasting an elegant stack of the same fantasy book. New Release and New York Times Bestseller signs hover above the gorgeous arrangement. “It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen right at this exact moment,” Alana whispers, reverent. “I agree fully.” “Are you also experiencing the feminine urge to purchase every copy and create a display table in your home?” Alana asks. Willow looks up, meeting her eyes. “I am indeed also experiencing that feminine urge. I wonder. Should we act on it?” “That depends. Do you have my brother’s bank card in your purse?” “I most definitely do have Ollie’s bank card in my purse.” Their eyes spark—united mischief—before Willow notices me. “Oh.” The frenzied plotting glint tames into something absently casual. “Kass. Greetings. Come make bad decisions with us.”