“It's too soon.” A whisper threads through my disoriented thoughts and I squeeze my eyes shut, but the sensation doesn’t stop.
And when I open them again, there’s only silence.
Chapter 33
Daylight
Raven
Iwake with a start, bolting upright, my chest heaving as my heart slams against my ribs. My breath comes in short, ragged gasps.
My hands shake as I rub my palms together, desperate to rid myself of the lingering tingling sensation that never seems to go away. It clings, pulsing under my skin like a second heartbeat.
The room is dark and my body is drenched in sweat. For a minute, I’m completely disoriented.
The dream crashes back in, sharp and vivid. The forest. The wolf. The whispers.
A shiver rolls through me as I scan the room, expecting shadows to shift in the corners, but they don't. I look around at the furniture, the pile of my discarded clothes, the nightstand. Everything looks exactly the same.
Yet it doesn’tfeelthe same.
I push the covers off and move toward the window. Pressing my palm to the cold glass while I let the chill sink into my skin, willing it to clear the fog in my head.
In. Out. Deep breaths.
I feel so restless.
I see movement at the edge of the trees, and my heart stutters—until I realize it's the same dog. It doesn’t move, it just sits there. The hairs on the back of my neck start to rise, and I slowly step away from the window, yanking the curtains shut.As if that will do anything.
Crawling back into bed, I pull the covers up to my chin and close my eyes hoping to get some more sleep.
I hear voices drift through the closed door, followed by footsteps. A door closes and then Rachel's storming in like a hurricane, instantly shattering my fragile bubble of calm.
I thought I locked the door. And who was she talking to?
“How’s my favorite dumbass?”
I groan, burying my face in my pillow. When I finally peel one eye open, she’s standing there with her hands on her hips, studying me like I’m a lab experiment gone wrong. And just like that, last night slams into me.
I shut my eyes again.Nope. Not dealing with this yet.
Rachel, as expected, does not give a single shit about my coping skills.
“I have a confession,” she announces. Her tone hovers between guilty and smug.
That gets my attention.
“What did you do?”
She shifts on her feet, like she’s deciding what to say.Or how to say it.
“Well…” she draws out the word, milking the suspense for all its worth. Then she rips off the Band-Aid. “When you didn’t come home last night, I may have… well… I kinda texted Kane to ask where you were.”
Both eyes snap open and I bolt upright. “Youwhat?”
Rachel shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “You didn’t text me back, and I was worried. Sue me. Just thought you should know.”
I stare at her, half horror, half disbelief. “And what did he say?”
