splinters cutting into my palm told me that I was wide awake, and that this was actually happening.
I was locked in a staring competition with the werewolf from my dream.
I could still recall the image of my dream wolf with perfect clarity – and not just because I was looking straight at it. Glossy black fur, with a dash of white at the edge of its tail, the wolf moved forward, and when the light hit its eyes, my lips parted in shock; bright blue orbs glowered back at me, and I knew with unshakeable certainty that I’d dreamed of this very same animal.
“What the hell?” I muttered to myself, running my gaze over the length of its body, trying to find a single difference between my imagination and reality – I was out of luck.
Before I could come to grips with what I was seeing – seriously, did Marcus have no idea that there was a freaking wolf in his backyard? – the wolf snarled and dashed towards me. Shrieking, I jumped out of its path and ran across the yard, looking over my shoulder to see if I was safe. Panic surged through my body when I saw that it was catching up to me, and even as I tried to come up with a feasible way to get out of this alive, my shoulder slammed into something hard.
Pain radiated along my arm in pulsing waves, and frozen in place with my back against a gnarly tree trunk, I gripped my shoulder and closed my eyes; I wasn’t one to pray, but if there was ever a moment to turn to faith, this was it. I flinched when heavy paws landed on my shoulders, and my head angled to the side to avoid the wolf’s muggy breath. Exposing my neck to a snarling wolf was a decidedly terrible idea, but I took comfort in the fact that I’d die quickly if it chose to rip my throat out.
My eyes shot open when I felt something hot and wet slide along the curve of my shoulder, and I tentatively tilted my head towards the wolf. A choked noise slipped through out of me when I saw the way its tongue was lapping at my skin, its blue eyes focused intently on my face. A tremor worked its way up my spine when the wolf rubbed its snout against the base of my throat, before gently nipping at my skin.
Digging the back of my skull into the bark, I began whispering, “Please don’t kill me, please don’t eat me, and please, please, please don’t try to mount me.”
The wolf snorted, sending another wave of hot air in my direction. I barely had time to hope that maybe I wouldn’t be dying after all, when the air around the wolf shimmered, and I blinked rapidly as an ethereal glow surrounded its darker than black fur. When everything finally stopped shifting and sparkling, my gaze zeroed in on the person standing before me, and my jaw dropped open.
Marcus stood in the exact same spot the wolf had been less than thirty seconds ago; his naked body was covered in a slight layer of sweat, and he was breathing a little faster than he usually did, but it was definitely my boyfriend – my apparently supernatural boyfriend.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I yelled, ignoring his pained wince and my pounding heart. He clapped his hands over his ears, but undaunted, I went on, “You scared me half to death, you psychotic loon. What is wrong with you?”
Marcus frowned, looking put off. “Will you calm down? I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he mumbled, his lips curving in a petulant frown.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I demanded, “And how was I supposed to know that? All I saw was a wolf that chased after me!”
“I have to say, this was not the reaction I was expecting from you,” he informed me, sounding disappointed; I couldn’t help noticing the fact that he was neatly sidestepping my angry line of inquiry.
I shot him a disbelieving look, and my words were dripping with sarcasm when I said, “Oh? How were you expecting me to react?”
“I thought you’d be a little excited, to be honest,” he admitted, with a shrug. Scratching the
William W. Johnstone, J.A. Johnstone