Sometimes, my dreams are just dreams. Other times, they are precognitive. And if I don’t do something, they can become a reality. It’s been a curse since I was born.
The first few times, I thought it was a coincidence. But when it started happening a little too often, I knew my dreams were predicting the future. That’s if I don’t do something to stop it first.
Images of my brother’s body drowning float through my mind—a dream I cannot shake. Then it’s filled with blood once more. Evan’s blood.
My stomach churns, and I stand abruptly before stumbling towards the bathroom. The second I see the toilet, I’m brought to my knees, and I empty my insides into the bowl. I retch and retch until my stomach gargles.
My ass hits the floor, and I drag my hand over my head, unable to think clearly. I have to stop it. I have to do something so I never have to see it in real life.
After brushing my teeth with the disposable brush and glancing over my face, other than the horrific dream, I had a good night's sleep—one of the best I’ve had in years. There’s no need to explain why, especially when my wolf is the most settled he’s ever been.
When I make it back to the bedroom, Evan is still fast asleep. I study him for a long moment. The scent of fresh cotton and sweet cherries has been consuming me all night. It’s refreshing to be alone with him, to enjoy it in private when I usually have to pretend it doesn't affect me. And I don’t want to pretend anymore. His safety is my priority. It has been from the start.
Ruffling sheets have my eyes drawing up instantly. Evan stretches out in the bed as his eyes crack open, flashing me his beautiful blue eyes. Mesmerising, really. They’re pale and light, but filled with a deep sadness I haven’t been able to ignore since the moment we met.
He glances at me and rubs his forehead. “Hey,” he rasps as he pushes back into the headboard. “Everything okay?”
No. Everything is far from okay,I heave in my head.
Words fail me. I have no idea what to say.
Evan’s brows dip as I remain silent. His eyes flick over me as I stand at the foot of the bed, still half naked and wracked to the bone.
“Uh…” he murmurs with hurt flashing across his face. “Maybe I should go.”
I watch as he hops off the bed and quickly throws on his trousers.
“Don’t,” I say as I shake my head.
He lifts his head and stares at me cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
I drag my hand over my face before recovering. I walk towards him as his eyes follow me. I reach out to take his waist in my hands before slowly pushing him back down onto the bed so he’s sitting. My knees hit the floor as I take his fingers in mine.
There’s no easy way to put it. So I just say it. It’s not something I can ignore.
“I know you’re hurting yourself.”
Evan blinks before snatching his hands from mine and clutching his wrists to his chest. “What?”
Then he drops his hands immediately, gripping the sleeve with his fingers.
“I saw them,” I whisper as I stare up at him. “This morning.”
His eyes shimmer, building with tears, and it feels like my heart is being squeezed. “It’s nothing,” he says before swallowing.
“If you’re hurting yourself, then it’s definitely not nothing. Are you getting help?”
He scoffs and looks away. “I’m fine.”
“Evan,” I say his name with a rasp. “I’m not asking for you to tell me everything; I just want to make sure you don’t do it again.”
A little sniffle echoes through my ears. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I nod and lick along my bottom lip. “Okay,” I say, despite wanting to demand answers. That’s not how I’ll make him feel safe.
And I’m not one to talk. When anyone brings up my father, I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than talk about the pain and torture he’s put me through.
I raise my hand and clutch his face. My thumb swipes over his cheek softly, and I pray those tears in his eyes don’t start to fall.
