Two Thousand Years | The Empire Saga #1

Chapter Five

Her hand grasped at her breast as she tried to catch her breath. er dress clung to her sweat-soaked body as she heaved for air. Wiping away tears from her cheeks, she realized it was a dream, and only a dream. Even as she could still feel the heat of his breath against her skin, and the weight of those restraints around her wrists...

It was only a dream.

But still, it felt too real, and that terrified her all the same.

Calming down as best she could, she looked around to find herself in yet another strange room. This room was better furnished, at least from what she could tell. The mahogany bed was extremely comfortable and nearly a fortress with four posts rising to the ceiling and sheer curtains creating a canopy. The comforter was made of fine fur and filled with down and on either side of the bed were matching double-drawered bedside tables.

Finally, able to calm her heart after the jolt of waking, she flopped back down on the mound of pillows underneath her head and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

She needed to think.

She tried to wrap her head around all that had transpired over these last few days—at least she thought it was days. Time was starting to waver, and she felt like a stranded sailor at sea. Of course, it was hard for her to discern the time when sleep kept falling upon her time and again, and now she felt robbed of both time and information. As to what exactly was happening, she was still in the dark—literally and figuratively.

According to what Treyan told her, she was a prophesized Empress for a world she didn't know existed, being hunted by his estranged twin brother for who knows whatever reason.

She'd have thought him completely insane if not for the dreams she had the night before...

She shuddered at the memory.

Rolling to her side, Alex closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to collect her thoughts. She wondered if anyone in Boston was missing her yet—if Crystal had sounded an alarm after her phone call, or if she assumed Alex was merely overreacting after a night of excessive drinking. Knowing Crystal, she'd probably remain in bed all weekend, nursing the hangover she'd likely endure for days, regardless of any concern about Alex's call.

Thinking about home made her groan and sink deeper into the blankets. She needed to get back. The comfort of the bed, and the care Treyan seemed to have for her well-being, weren't enough to keep her here. Whatever fantasy he may have had about who she was and what she was supposed to do was just that—nothing more than some delusion that there was an alternate world where she mattered. If she stayed any longer, playing into this farce, she was bound to lose her mind, among everything else.

No, she needed to get home. She needed to get back to the world she actually knew, even if there wasn't much waiting for her there. Even if it was a shitty job and a small apartment waiting for her, it was still her home.

She felt almost like a robot, saying it over and over again. Like she needed to convince not only herself, but those around her who doubted and challenged every decision she ever made. Especially her parents, who already considered her a failure for not having what they deemed a "real" job, and she could only imagine what they'd think if she lost her position at Starbucks because of too many no-call, no-shows.

Her parents.

Sometimes she wondered if her father went out of his way to monitor her from afar because he was making up for not truly being her father. Her mother remarried when Alex was very young, so in all honesty, he was the only father she'd ever known. Nothing ever made her want to know more about her birth father either; he was simply her mother's first husband who experienced an untimely death, and then her mother was able to move on and find love again.