Prompt: Nightmare

W/C: 445


She dreamed of his hot, passionate kisses; the kind that were so intense and deep they left your lips swollen and tender the next day, looking slightly bruised. His hands explored her body, tracing over her skin with an agonizing slowness that left her whimpering and pleading for release, his whispered words husky as he continued to tease her, describing the many things he planned to do with her before the night was through. She relieved the exquisite agony as he entered her—sometimes slowly, an inch at a time, and other times with a forceful thrust that made her arch up off the bed, crying out his name.

They were dreams of the happiest moments of her life, but sadly—they always ended the exact same way, forcing her to relieve the moment her world was destroyed. When everything shattered around her feet, reminding her that happily ever after was just a fairytale—especially for a dhampir woman in love with a Royal Moroi.

"My mother is having you reassigned—she refuses to let me marry a dhampir, especially one ten years older than me. She'd disinherit me first… I'm sorry Allie."

As he spoke, he changed before her eyes, his pale skin blanching out to a ghostly white as a thin red ring bloomed around the pupils of his icy blue eyes—and his apologetic words transformed into something just as horrifying. The statements he hurled at her were ones she'd punished herself with time and time again, but hearing them uttered in his cold, emotionless voice was so much worse than her own self-flagellation.

"All of this is your fault. If you'd been there to guard me, this never would have happened. I never would have ended up with Moira and gone along with her schemes. I'd still be alive— if you'd loved me enough to fight for me Allie."

Waking with a start, Alberta Petrov automatically brushed away the tears that she'd shed in her sleep; reaching over she jerked open the drawer to her nightstand, removing a small, worn velvet box before climbing out of bed. As she crossed her small room, her hand clenched around it so tightly that her knuckles whitened; she didn't relax her grip until she'd jerked open the curtains so the sunlight could chase off the remnants of her dream. The engagement ring inside was her talisman against the nightmare—proof that Lucas Ozera had once loved her, despite the many differences between them; he just hadn't loved her enough to stand up to his family or to face being disinherited.

If he had, things would have ended very, very differently—for both of them.