Go back to sleep, I command myself. My wolf won’t get to shift and run this week. Probably not this month. I went home to Kentucky over Christmas, so at least I let him out then.
Before I slide back into the dream of hunting, I picture the waifish she-wolf with the long, moon-pale hair and skin as luminescent as starshine. I’d rather dream of her.
The Adalwulf princess.
The one I saw from a distance at Blackthroat’s wedding. The one who came to me in a dream.
Find me before it’s too late.
Trying to conjure her when I’m in hypnagogia is my favorite pastime.
I slip back into the place between sleep and waking. I’m on a hunt, chasing a deer. Then prowling around a stone mansion. Then I’m in a dark bedroom.
It worked! This is where I’ve seen her before. Where she seems to be a prisoner. I saw the way she stood behind Aiden Adalwulf, hands clasped, head bowed like a servant. Every time I remember it, I want to tear Aiden’s throat out.
She sits up in her bed. She’s exquisite. Slender and slight, her platinum blonde hair tumbles across her shoulders, which are bare, save for the tiny satin spaghetti straps holding up a cotton cami. Small breasts rise beneath the fabric. She looks a little too thin–like she’s been starved into submission. The dark brown blanket on her bed is a basic rough wool, like a camping blanket, chosen for function over beauty.
Her wide blue eyes stare straight ahead, unfocused. I remember what Billy told me–she’s the new Adalwulf Seeress. Perhaps she’s having a vision.
Is it of me? Does she project these visions to me? Is that why it feels like I’m in two places at once? It feels like I’m right there, in her cold, harsh bedroom, but when I reach for her, my hands close on air.
Aster. I try out the name Billy had given me for her at the wedding. I don’t know whether I actually speak it or say it in my head.
Either way, it pulls her out of her reverie. She jerks in surprise, her soft pink lips part, eyes suddenly focusing right on my face.
My heart pounds. Excitement is pumping through my veins.
Aster. That is her name.
You know me? she says, but her lips don’t move. She projects the words into my head again.
I nod. My fingers move to sign, I saw you–outside the Blackthroat wedding. You got out of a limo with Aiden Adalwulf.
She doesn’t look at my hands but seems to understand my words just the same.
Stay away from me. I don’t hear her voice, but words lay themselves across my mind.
Stay away. She wants me to stay away. Does she know that I intend to hunt down their Moonborn?
The vision slips away. I’m out on a hillside staring at my paws.
No!
I will myself back to her bedroom by imagining it. I need to find out what she means to me. What she knows.
I find myself not in her bedroom but staring into the face of Aiden Adalwulf. He’s on some kind of ridiculous throne. A metaphor? Or does this asshole truly put himself on a stone throne in his dark palace?
He looks down his nose at me with disdain. I watch his lips move as he speaks.
The Tiara of Ix-Chel is coming to the Gem and Mineral Museum in the City on Thursday. I will arrange a special viewing for you to see it up close.
I stare at him, puzzled, but then I realize he’s not looking at me but at Aster.
He’s saying something else–I miss it because I was looking her way, but her lips move to form the words, Yes, Alpha.
The dream or vision vanishes, and I’m in my tiny apartment. It’s dawn. I throw the blankets off and surge to my feet with mad purpose.
The museum. Today is Thursday. The dream must have been guidance from the Moon Goddess. Fate is leading me to the Moonborn. A sense of satisfaction surges through me as I yank on my joggers and shirt for my morning run around Central Park. I can’t shift, but at least I can run off the aggression. This morning, I’ll probably sprint the entire six miles.
