Chapter 7 Nightmares and Dreams

The peculiar sight of Ethan on the bedroom floor was jarring. His face was twisted in agony as he lay against the wall, his body shaking with visible pain. But his eyes confessed the worst as it glowed an eerie, unnatural gold. "I'm fine," Ethan muttered through gritted teeth, but it was clear to me he wasn't. The glow in his eyes flickered as he locked gazes with me, and his voice faltered. "You need to leave." It was a command, not a request, but my feet felt like they were stuck in place. I couldn't tear my gaze away from him.

I had a growing desire to help, to ease whatever agony he was in. I stepped close despite his protest but to my dismay, another wave of pain seemed to tear through him. "Ethan?" I asked softly, stepping forward slowly. I wasn't sure why but I needed to make sure he was okay. His eyes snapped to mine, wearing his pain and frustration in a look that sent a chill down my spine. "Please," he whispered, his breath shallow. "Get out." Behind me, Khalid's voice cut through the thickening silence. "Harlyn, it's not safe. Please leave." My heart pounded in my chest, but I couldn't leave-not yet. There was something in Ethan's voice, something in the way his face contorted in torment that made me want to fight against the urge to turn away. But Khalid's persistence was enough to make me second-guess myself. I turned my gaze toward Khalid, seeing the sincerity in his gentle blue eyes, and the way his posture was stiff with concern. He wasn't like Ethan, pushing me away out of anger or fear. Khalid was trying to protect me. Was Ethan dangerous? to me? Did I want to find out? After a long, drawn-out pause, I gave in, my body heavy with disappointment. I backed away from Ethan, reluctant to leave him in pain. As I turned to leave, though, Abigail joined in with a small box in hand. What it held, I was curious to know. I climbed down the stairs and grabbed my bag where I had forgotten it. I didn't bother waiting to say my goodbyes, it was clear I was no longer welcome so I left the house. On my way out though, I used my hearing-something I had come to rely on recently, my senses more attuned than I'd realized. From down the hallway, voices drifted to me. Abigail's calm, authoritative voice reached me first. "There's just three days till the next full moon but having him near her has somehow triggered the withdrawals." I froze, my breath caught in my throat. The withdrawals? My pulse quickened. I had no idea what they meant, but the mention of Ethan, the moon, and my proximity to him stirred something. They do know something and I had some sort of connection to Ethan. Khalid's voice followed. "We have to do something soon." The implication in his words made my stomach churn. What exactly? I'm so tired of the questions, I want an answer. I turned on my feet to head back inside but the moment I opened the door, Khalid's voice called again, this time more firmly. "Harlyn, go home." The finality in his tone stung, and I exhaled a heavy breath, clenching my fists in frustration. Right. Who was I kidding? Expecting a bunch of strangers to help me? I walked out, feeling the weight of their eyes on me, and made my way back to town. Not really sure of the way back home, walking took more time than I wanted. With every turn and every cross, my nerves would shake as I hoped I wouldn't bump into Tess and Higan. The moonlight barely broke through the trees, casting long, stretching shadows over the path. Each step seemed to pull me further away from the answers I desperately needed, leaving me lost in the dark. By the time I reached home, the exhaustion hit me all at once, I was ready to call it a day. As I stepped through the door, I realized I'd forgotten to text my mom all day. The worry on her aging face said it all. "Harlyn," my mother said, rushing to me with a tight embrace. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick. You should've told me where you were going." She held me before stepping back to face me with her worried eyes. The guilt was numbly settling over me like an itchy blanket. "I'm sorry," I muttered, but the words barely left my lips before my mom pulled further back, her brows furrowing deeply. "You didn't come home and you got into a fight with Tess? Rumors are flying," my mom said quietly, her tone cautious. "Some people are saying you bullied Tess. Is it true? Are you hurting her? Because I know she's dating Higan, and-" "Mom, no! I didn't do that," my voice cracked. Khalid said he was handling things, where were the rumors sprouting from? Woe on me to trust him. Could nothing go right for me for once? My breathing turned harsher the more I thought about everything. The fight with Tess, the tension with Ethan and his pack, and now rumors about me-none of it made sense. I just wanted to make it all stop. A tight feeling in my chest rose in heat and intensity bubbling my blood but the exhaustion and my frustration paralyzed me. What exactly did I do? "What am I doing wrong?" Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I could hold them back, they spilled over my cheeks. "Why am I even here? Why does everything about me turn into something bad?" My mom's face crumpled with surprise before settling into guilt. I looked down at my feet, unable to look her in the eyes anymore. She pulled me close again, this time with an intensity that spoke of a long-held sorrow. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I should've done right by you. I didn't know it would be like this. I am so sorry Harlyn." The sound of my mom crying along with me, the quiet, desperate sobs, only made me feel more broken. I hadn't meant to cause this much pain. I only wanted answers, wanted to understand. Maybe I'd be able to live better with myself knowing why these things were happening to me alone. I was so tired so I let myself collapse into my mother's embrace, seeking comfort in her warm touch. Slowly The world outside grew distant, muffled, as though the chaos and confusion had temporarily receded, just for that moment with her. I let myself cry out the last six months of frustration, of the rejection and ridicule I'd faced all in the name of Higan Sinclair. The bullying, the scorn, everything. Before I knew it the fatigue had closed in on me. But as my last attachment to reality faded into my slumber, I heard a soft, almost inaudible whisper from my mother's lips. "I'm sorry, Gaiyetre." The name echoed through my mind, strange and unfamiliar. But I was too exhausted to think about it more, the weight of the day pulling me into sleep. So with that last question, I drifted into darkness. Who was Gaiyetre? xxx A damp, foggy forest loomed before me once again, its oppressive silence weighing heavily on my chest. This time, the cold was sharper, biting into my skin. I glanced down and gasped. Blood soaked through my torn white shirt, smearing my chest in dark streaks. My breath hitched as I touched the ragged fabric, the pain searing. It was as though claws had raked through me. This again. I took a shaky step forward, my heart racing as fragments of my last dream surfaced-the white wolf, its piercing gaze, its claws tearing through me as it snarled for me to wake up. My knees trembled at the memory. Knowing it was a dream did little to comfort me. It felt real, too real. A low howl shattered the stillness, mournful and filled with pain. I spun around, my pulse pounding in my ears. My voice cracked as I whispered to myself, "Why is this happening? I am here again. This isn't just a dream." Another set of new questions. Exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I collapsed to the damp ground, clutching my knees. "Just let it stop," I murmured, closing my eyes as if I could will the dream away. Then, a voice-melodic, smooth, and strangely resonant-slipped through the fog. "I can see your head turning with so many questions." I shot up, eyes darting around the woods. "Who's there?" My voice wavered as I staggered to my feet, trying to pinpoint the source. "The wolf? Are you here to kill me again?" The voice chuckled, a sound both amused and unnerving. It sounded so familiar. "The wolf was... dramatic, wasn't it? Its methods were extreme, but its intent was pure-to get you away from this forest." I clenched my fists, anger flaring alongside my fear. "Right, that makes so much sense to the one with blood on her shirt." The fog thickened, swirling around me until a figure emerged. My breath hitched as I took a step back. It was me. Or something that looked like me-only more. She had my face, my features, my body but her hair and eyes were otherworldly. She had white streaks in her black hair compared to my brown and her irises were colorless like she was blind. I had hazel eyes. The figure carried an unsettling allure, her gaze brighter, her movements confident, her form enveloped in crackling black energy. She smirked as she tilted her head. "You recognize me," the figure said, her tone smooth, almost teasing. I shook my head, taking another step back. "Cause I look in the mirror. You look just like me but you're not exactly... me." The figure chuckled again, a soft, mocking sound. It was quite weird hearing myself laugh like that. "I am you. A part of you to be exact. Just as the wolf is." "No," I whispered, but the word felt weak, my mind struggling to process the impossibility of what I was seeing. Suddenly, the world tilted, a wave of dizziness washing over me. "Listen carefully," the figure said, her voice sharper now, cutting through the haze in my mind. "Find the owner of the bite mark on your left shoulder. He's the only one who can take the seal off." Owner of my bite mark? I had no idea what she was on about. As far as I knew, What was on my left shoulder was a wide faded birthmark that looked nothing like a bite mark. "I don't have a bite mark on my left shoulder," I told her but my voice grew faint as my knees buckled. The figure's lips curved into a cryptic smile. "Are you sure?" The dizziness grew unbearable, and the forest blurred into nothingness. I woke with a gasp. My heart hammered in my chest and I could feel the sweat coating my skin. The darkness of my room greeted me and the warmth of my blankets grounded me in reality. But as I sat up, the dream's weight lingered, the words of that other version of me echoing in my ears. Bite mark on my left shoulder. I shifted to take off the blouse I'd been wearing, leaving just my suffocating bra. I looked at my shoulder and as I expected It was just an abnormal birthmark I've had since forever. It looked nothing like a bite. A cool breeze caressed my open skin and it was then I noticed. My window was open, I never opened my window. A sharp sense of unease pricked my skin. Something wasn't right. My senses sharpened, and I realized-someone else was in my bedroom. Before I could scream, a figure lunged toward me, a hand pressing gently but firmly over my mouth. I froze, my wide eyes meeting familiar golden ones. "Ethan," I whispered against his hand. His gaze bore into mine, intense and unyielding. "Don't scream."