But my mind doesn’t know how to hold good things. It waits for the drop—just like it had that night with my mom. I woke up bracing for her to slip back into her routines, and she had, taking the warmth with it.
My eyes start to drift shut. The sounds of breathing fade into one steady rhythm. Then it twists, heavy and cold.
I’m standing on the chilled stage at the club, my feet numb against the icy floor. Something is whispering my name. Not something—someone.The voice gets stronger the more I listen, but it’s wrong. So wrong. Warped beyond distinction. I can’t tell if it’s male or female, the words blurring into nothing.
A hand strikes me out of nowhere, and my head snaps to the left before I hear cackling—terrible shrieks of joy.
“Tobias, snap out of it.”
The sound of water dripping echoes in the chamber, and the hand appears to strike again. I see chains, hear them rattle, then feel the terrible burn of them on my wrists. When I try to scream, I taste blood.
“Shit. Toby, wake up!”
Rowen’s voice cuts through the fog, but it sounds distant, muffled. I want to go to him, but I’m flailing, striking out at shadows that won’t let go.
“Hey. Hey! It’s me, you’re okay. You’re safe.” His hand presses against the back of my neck, warm and solid, pulling me back toward the sound of his voice.
I thrash again, the darkness drowning me. Something cold and wet splashes my face, making me gasp and choke for air.
The room and chains fade.
I blink hard, trying to remember where I am. The nest. The blankets. The tree… Rowen.
My heart thunders, and sweat clings to my skin. I exhale hard when I finally see him.
“You’re okay,” he says softly.
I fist his shirt, shaking. That dream had been so different from the others. Closer, somehow. Usually the shadows feel far off, blurred. But this time it was like I could reach for them. I’d felt the cold of the stage under my feet.
I jolt when I realize everyone is awake—staring.Shit.Grant is crouched nearby, holding an empty glass. Sage and Red hover together, both pale. Even Jericho looks unsettled.
Shame slams into me. “I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, my throat burning. “I didn’t mean to—”
Rowen gently squeezes the back of my neck, grounding me. I feel his lips in my hair. “You don’t have to apologize.”
I do, though. I ruined their Christmas Eve. God, how could I do that?
I repeat the apology, trying to push the memory of the dreams aside.
Rowen rubs my back.
“Has this happened before?” Red asks quietly.
Rowen doesn’t answer right away, like he wants to protect me from their judgment. “Almost every night,” he says. “Not this bad, though. Shh, hon. You’re okay.”
I cling to him, trying to stop shaking, but it’s like I’m still there, getting beaten on the stage.
Is this it, then? Is it happening? Are these the voices my mom heard? The ghosts she screamed at? Am I going crazy, just like she did?
“Do you want to go upstairs?” Rowen asks.
I shake my head. “Please, no.” The last thing I want is to be alone, even with him. I need this. I need all of them. Where did that feeling of wholeness disappear to? Can I have it back?
“Okay.” He kisses my head again. “We’ll stay then.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur again.
One by one, the others lie back down. Grant turns the main light off and settles in. But it’s a long, long time before anyone is asleep. Guilt threatens to swallow me whole, and I almost wish it would. This was supposed to be their special night. Theirone night,as Rowen said, when they sleep like a pack.
