Page 87 of Blood and Trouble

“Not yet,” I said. “Just let us have this.”

He held me tighter, and I closed my eyes, memorizing everything about the moment. Our sweaty bodies. The euphoric ache in my neck. The warmth of his energy spinning in my soul. And somewhere in the haze, I fell asleep.

In these tender moments, my subconscious took advantage and ran recklessly through my imagination. The first nightmare appeared only a handful of times since my first scene with Lycan. But that night, my mind conjured up a new horror for me to dissect.

I stood in front of a fire, wearing nothing but a floor-length pale nightgown, heat licking my cheeks and wisping my hair around my face. The witch chanted in a language I didn’t recognize and circled the flames, spilling herbs and salt as she danced. There was no moon, and the woods seemed more sinister in the dark, as if they knew what was about to happen and they were trying to warn me.

I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be doing this. But I didn’t have another choice. My hands clenched into fists, and my stomach churned with regret. Electricity zipped through the air, prompted by the witch’s words. Static on my tongue. Humming in my ears. Vibration on my skin.

“It’s starting,” the witch said, coming to stand in front of me. “I can’t stop it. All I can do is give it somewhere else to go.” She searched my face. “You’re sure?”

I hung my head. “I’m sure.”

With one final word, she pressed her hands to my chest and whispered in that same foreign tongue. Fire rushed through my veins, branding my soul, and my lungs compressed, squeezing all the air out of my body. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. All I could focus on was the pain, the sheer excruciating magic coating my molecules.

Something else gripped me, crawling out of the darkness with evil intent, cold and enormous, aimed at my children asleep in a house miles from here. I opened myself and let it in.

The change took me. My bones splintered and cracked. My skin rippled and sagged off my body. My muscles contorted, and I fell to the ground, writhing with the unstoppable force. This wasn’t like any change I’d ever experienced before. It was more powerful, more harrowing, but perhaps that was because I knew there was no coming back.

This was it. This was my penance. This was what I had to do to protect them.

This was the cost.

It seemed to go on for eons, and when the witch stopped chanting, I rolled to my side and pushed onto four legs, taking in the world with my shifter eyes. I flicked my ears. I wagged my tail. I tested my walk.

“It’s done,” the witch said. “They are safe.”

I trotted away.

Smothering a scream, I sat up and clamped a hand over my mouth. I was still in the cabin, the blankets tangled around my legs, Poe staring up at me from his spot on my right.

“Are you okay?” he murmured.

I wiped the sweat from my face. “Yeah, it’s just…nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” His brows drew together. “About Evelyn?”

“No.” I forced back the all-consuming ache in my chest, this heavy grief that seemed to belong to me and yet…didn’t at the same time.

“Talk to me,” Poe said. “I can help.”

I didn’t think he could. I didn’t know how he could. I didn’t even know what they meant.

“It’s nothing. It’s the stress.”

I kept telling myself that, but after this one, it didn’t ring true anymore. Something else was going on, and the mystery around it rattled me. I didn’t own a nightgown like that. I’d never stood in front of a fire like that.

“We’ve been through a lot,” Poe said. “It’s probably your mind’s way of making sense of all this.”

“Yeah,” I said, lying down again, forcing myself to believe it. “Maybe.”

CHAPTER 19

Poe

Mate.

Mine.