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I roll toward her to figure out what the hell is going on, only to take an elbow to the face.
Fuckingouch.
I grunt again, flinching back and running my tongue over my front teeth, tasting blood. And if I wasn’t awake before, I sure as fuck am now.
My shifter senses immediately kick into high gear, my eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkness as I sit up in bed and peer over at the sleeping beauty beside me. Her eyes are closed, but her face is scrunched up, a little crease forming between her brows as she lets out a soft whine, her body thrashing against the blankets.
She’s dreaming.
“Sloane,” I call gently, reaching over to give her shoulder a little shake.
She doesn’t respond. She just thrashes harder, her limbs flailing and her heel narrowly missing my nuts.
“Sloane,” I say again, louder and firmer this time.
Still nothing.
Another little cry escapes her lips, like she’s fighting some sort of monster in her nightmares.
It’s no match for the one beside her in this bed, though.
I roll over on top of Sloane, securing her thrashing body with my own and cupping her face in my hands. Her skin is pale, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as I lower my face right down in front of hers and raise my voice again, putting Alpha command behind it this time. “Sloane, baby, wake up!”
Her eyes pop open, wide and terrified as they lock with mine. Then I see a flicker of recognition register, her tense body slackening beneath me.
“Madd?” she croaks, raising a hand to my face as if to test whether or not I’m really here with her.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I rasp, pressing my forehead against hers in reassurance. “You were having a dream.”
“Not a dream,” she whispers.
I lift my head to gaze down at her and she shakes her own sadly, her eyes shining with the fresh hint of tears.
“A vision?”
She told me last night that she’d been having visions in the form of dreams since the hunters hit the Denver pack, but I guess I just didn’t expect them to be so… violent.
Sloane bites her lip, nodding.
“What’d you see?”
“I… I don’t know…” she stammers, her glassy green eyes darting around the dark room anxiously.
While part of me wants to know what she saw that was so upsetting, the urge to comfort her is stronger. My wolf is practically demanding it- he’s the one who alerted me to her distress in the first place, and now he’s shoving all his primal instincts to the forefront of my brain.
Comfort. Soothe. Protect.
Though I suppose they’re my instincts, too. My wolf and I are fully integrated; he’s just a lot more blunt about what we both need.
I roll off Sloane’s body, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her in to lay on my chest instead. “Shhh…” I hush, stroking her hair back from her face and pressing my lips to her forehead. “It’s alright now, I’ve got you. Go back to sleep, Duchess.”
Her chest rattles against mine as she draws a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “Thank you,” she whispers softly.
My wolf fuckingpreens.
Smug bastard.
I keep a firm hold around Sloane, listening to the sound of her breathing until it starts to level off again in an indication that she’s drifted back to sleep. Only then do I allow my own eyes to close and, still holding her tight against my chest, I start to doze off, too.
