Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 821

Clara felt trapped in that dream, lost for what seemed like forever, her body heavy with exhaustion, as if something was pressing down on her and refusing to let her wake.

She could still recall the surge of emotion washing over her back then—the warmth of a hand reaching out, steady and reassuring, like it was the only thing keeping her afloat. That little crush she’d tried to ignore suddenly felt so real, so solid. Maybe it started right there, in the thick summer heat, surrounded by the clamor of birds and animals. For the first time, she finally understood what it meant to want someone so much you’d actually dream about marrying them.

It was a strange feeling—delicate, impossible to put into words.

She tried to wake up but couldn’t. The metallic scent of blood clung to him—he must have been hurt badly too, and still, he never said a word.

Her vision stayed blurry. “How much longer until our teacher comes to get us?” she asked, her voice small.

Through the haze, he finally answered, “Soon.”

She could sense it—they were slowly getting out of that terrifying forest, and the sunlight beyond the trees kept getting brighter.

She sat in the grass, trying to rest, and listened to his footsteps as they faded away. Maybe he’d gone hunting again—would they end up eating roasted meat like before?

But after a few steps, he turned back and quietly sat down beside her.

She looked up, but everything was still fuzzy. Only the sun looked clear—a pale white disc overhead.

Suddenly, his shadow fell over her. He gently cupped her face, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and then took off running.

Clara just sat there, not really sure how to feel, only that her heart was doing something weird.

Her teacher always said she was too easygoing, a little slow on the uptake when it came to feelings—maybe even a bit gullible. Would she get tricked by someone someday?

Clara woke up with a jolt, the sound of someone typing filling the room.

She turned to see Dylan sitting up in bed, laptop balanced on his knees, typing with one hand while the other was locked with hers—fingers threaded together so tight it was almost embarrassing.

She quickly let go and rubbed her forehead.

Her head was pounding, and last night’s dream still felt way too fresh.

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