My Insomniac Boss Fell Asleep On My Shoulder — Now I’m Trapped In His Nightmare
Part 1
I never expected to become the Alpha King’s personal pillow.
Pressing heavily into my shoulder, his weight pinned me entirely to the wooden bench.
Sending cold shivers straight down my spine, his slow, deep breaths rustled the collar of my tunic.
The very man who had ended the mountain war with sheer brutality was now fast asleep on me.
Silence fell over the council chamber like a heavy shroud.
Gripping a water pitcher, a servant in the corner looked as though it was the only solid object remaining in the world.
I did not dare take a single breath.
To ensure the stubborn old Councilor Brian actually applied his poultice, Brenda had given me strict instructions.
Unfortunately, someone immediately recognized me as the infirmary herbalist.
Radiating a crushing physical presence, he looked capable of snapping a spine without breaking a single sweat.
That was when I noticed the deep, bruised shadows beneath his eyes.
Though rumors insisted His Majesty never slept, seeing him up close made me believe every word.
As I nervously mumbled about grain fumigation, however, his harsh breathing suddenly deepened.
Tipping slowly to the side, his head eventually came to rest squarely against my shoulder.
Panic seized my chest immediately.
Twenty excruciating minutes crawled by like twenty years.
After a full hour passed, Dan finally signaled a nearby guard.
Together, they carefully eased the king back against his chair.
Catching up to me two minutes later, Dan demanded an explanation.
I told him helplessly that I had literally just sat there.
I sat nervously in a wooden chair against the wall while Craig read his reports.
Ignoring my presence entirely, he flipped through the heavy parchment.
Ten minutes later, his moving pen abruptly stilled.
Dipping forward, his head came to rest gently on his folded arms.
When I recounted the bizarre events, Brenda closed the infirmary door with a firm snap.
Since returning from the brutal war, Craig hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes at a time.
She theorized that a strange combination of my natural scent and the herbs I carried had sedated him.
Arriving moments later, Dan delivered a new set of orders.
The king required my presence in his private chambers at sunset.
That evening, a silent guard led me to the upper levels of the vast palace.
Standing by the window of his massive bedroom, Craig looked terrifyingly imposing in the gloom.
He stated flatly that this was a practical arrangement and absolutely nothing more.
Gesturing to a narrow pallet on the floor at the foot of his enormous bed, he turned away.
After blowing out the candles, I lay rigidly on the thin, scratchy blanket.
Twenty minutes later, his rigid posture loosened completely.
He was fast asleep.
For a long while, I just watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Then, without warning, his breathing turned horribly rough.
Thrashing violently to the side, his head twisted against the pillow.
When a low groan escaped his throat, I scrambled to my feet and reached for his shoulder.
I blinked, and the warm bedroom vanished instantly.
Pressing in from all sides, thick, freezing gray fog swallowed the room.
The air smelled strongly of damp stone and ancient ash.
Reaching like broken fingers toward a white sky, skeletal trees loomed in the gloom.
Ten feet away, Craig stood completely motionless.
He was staring blankly into the impenetrable fog.
In the distance, something sinister shifted.
Crunching steadily closer, deliberate footsteps echoed through the dead forest.
Grabbing his arm with both hands, I pulled backward with everything I had.
We crashed violently back into the real bedroom.
Yanking my hand away, I felt my heart hammering frantically against my ribs.
The next morning, Craig stubbornly ordered the arrangement to continue.
Because Brenda insisted proximity was key, I was eventually moved from the pallet to his bed.
Taking up most of the space, his massive frame radiated an incredible heat.
Lying there in the dark, the tension between us felt thick enough to cut.
Reaching out blindly, he wrapped his warm fingers firmly around mine.
The sudden contact sent a massive shock straight through my chest.
He fell asleep holding my hand securely.
Sometime during the deep night, my fingers slipped free.
He jolted awake instantly.
Instead of taking my hand back, he pulled me entirely flush against his chest.
Over the next few days, the boundaries between us completely blurred.
Pulling at my very soul, the bond between us was rapidly forming.
Then came the terrible night I opened my eyes in the fog once again.
We stood frozen beside a vast lake of black water.
Struggling desperately to survive, wolves were sinking slowly beneath the dark surface.
Shifting into human form, one of the victims broke the water with a pale hand.
A distorted, agonized voice begged us for help.
Grabbing Craig’s hand, I tore us violently back to reality.
I woke up gasping for air in the pitch-black room.
Sitting up abruptly beside me, Craig looked completely pale and devastated.
I asked him tearfully why he hadn’t told anyone about this horrific place.
He muttered darkly that he didn’t want me getting stuck in his nightmare.
I reached for him anyway.
Catching my wrist mid-air, he stopped me cold.
His gray eyes met mine, looking hard and entirely unforgiving.
“Leave,” he ordered, his voice echoing off the stone, though the fine tremor in his iron grip told a completely different story.
