Silas turns his head, his face catching the faint moonlight. His eyes are empty. He smiles, a slight, cruel curve of his lips. He says something to her, too low for me to hear, and she goes limp in his grasp. He doesn’t catch her. He just keeps dragging her toward the trees, her boots leaving furrows in the frost.
“Caroline!” I roar, the sound tearing from my throat, but it’s swallowed by the immense, oppressive quiet. I’m not getting any closer. The distance between us is a chasm that widens with every step I take.
He reaches the tree line. He pauses, looking back at me one last time. He raises a hand in a small, mocking wave. Then he pulls her into the darkness, and they’re gone. The scent of her, cinnamon and honey and fear, hangs in the frozen air for a moment before the cold snuffs it out.
“No.”
I bolt upright in bed, the word a ragged gasp in my throat. My heart is a frantic drum against my ribs, a wild, panicked beat. I’m drenched in sweat, the sheets wrapped around my legs. My room is dark, but familiar.
I’m home. I’m safe.
I drag a hand through my hair, my breath coming in harsh, uneven bursts. The dream. It felt so real. The cold, the helplessness, the look on Silas’s face. I swing my legs out of bed, my feet hitting the cool wood of the floor. I need to move. I need to shake the feeling of that frozen ground under my feet.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. 4:17 a.m. Too early. Too late to go back to sleep. The images from the nightmare are still burned onto the back of my eyelids.
I pick up my phone from the nightstand. The screen is too bright in the dark room. I squint, my thumb finding Amara’s contact. I type out a quick message.
Me:You good?
I stare at the screen, waiting. The three little dots appear almost immediately.
Amara:Bored. Studying. Why?
Me:Just checking. Go back to sleep.
I set the phone down, a small measure of calm settling in my chest. She’s okay. She’s safe. That’s what matters. But the feeling of unease doesn’t leave. It’s a knot in my gut, tight and cold.
I push to my feet and walk out of the bedroom, not bothering to grab a shirt. The house is quiet. Aunt Etta’s door is closed. I pad down the hallway, my bare feet silent on the runner, and into the study.
I should work. I should go through the incident reports from the last week and the budget requests for the new cruisers. I should focus on something tangible, something I can control. But my mind keeps drifting back to the dream. To Silas. To Caroline.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk, my head in my hands. The Council’s envoy is here. A man who looks at this town like it’s a puzzle he can’t wait to solve, a prize to be claimed. A man who looks at me like I’m an obstacle. And now my own subconscious is pairing him with Caroline, creating a nightmare scenario where I fail to protect the one person I’ve sworn to.
The door to the study opens with a soft creak. I don’t look up. I know who it is.
“Bad dream?” Aunt Etta asks gently.
I lift my head. She’s standing in the doorway, holding a steaming mug. She’s wearing her worn flannel robe, her gray hair in a loose braid over her shoulder. Her eyes are full of a knowing sympathy that I both appreciate and resent.
“Something like that,” I say.
She crosses the room and places the mug on the desk in front of me. The scent of strong black coffee fills the air. “You were shouting.”
I wince. I hadn’t realized. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. Not really.” She pulls up the armchair across from my desk, settling into it with a soft sigh. “You’ve been on edge since that meeting, Damon. Is it Silas?”
“He’s a problem,” I say, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. The heat is a grounding sensation. “A big one.”
“He seems like a reasonable young man. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think the Council has this town’s best interests at heart. I wish more people would trust them. Maybe judge them if something goes wrong. Not before.”
I take a sip of the coffee. It’s bitter, just how I like it. I can’t go into details tonight. I already know where she stands with all of this. “I’m trying to keep this town safe.”
“Maybe they are, too?” She leans forward, her hands clasped in her lap. “Think it through. The Council is seriously worried about the ley lines and how all these disruptions are affecting them. It’s their job to keep us safe. If the Omegas are putting us in danger, then maybe you need to put that into consideration too.”
I grunt in response. Yeah, there’s no reasoning with her.
She gets up and pats my shoulder, then she turns and leaves the room as quietly as she entered, closing the door behind her.
