I just had to keep breathing, one beat at a time. Two. Three… The knife nicked my lung, and I choked as foamy blood filled my mouth.
“Cora,” a familiar voice rumbled.
Masculine. Safe. Home. Mine. My body shook as my heartbeat synced with his. Strong. Steady.
“Wake up.”
“I’m trying,” I cried as the knife continued south. Oh my God, when was he going to stop?
“Did you want children?” The Hound asked with a tilt of his head. “Let’s start with your right ovary.”
“Cora!” Hudson shouted.
I squeezed my eyes closed. It wasn’t real. They had sent an illusion of Hudson to taunt me. When faced with freedom, you often let your barriers down, and that was when they could sneak past your defenses and win. They couldn’t win. I shoved Hudson from my mind.
“No, not happening.”
My mate, even a fake one sent to torment me, was demanding. How ridiculous. My body rocked violently.
“Cora, snap the fuck out of it,” Hudson roared.
“I’ve got her,”Indigo snapped.
She pushed forward and took over my body. No, that’s what Eloise wanted. We couldn’t give in. My mind faded from the room as Indigo forced me down.
My eyes fluttered open, and my bedroom, dimly lit by the rising sun, came into view. Along with a furious-looking Hudson above me and a huge heavy weight on my legs. I glanced down to find Keverin draped across us both. His soulful eyes looked worried as they met mine.
“Just a dream,” I muttered as my head tipped back, and the hot tears slid free down my temples. “It’s not real.”
“We need to find you some help,” Hudson said. “These aren’t letting up.”
No, they weren’t. I had at least three a week. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and tried to force the mentalbreakdown hovering on the edge of my consciousness down. There wasn’t time for me to fall apart.
“Hey,” Hudson said in a soothing tone. He grabbed my hands and pulled them away. “Let it out. Maybe that will help.”
A sob caught in my throat. “If I do, I might never stop.”
“You will. But bottling this up is causing you psychic pain.”
Psychic pain. Oh, of course. I knew who I had to see. “Okay, I will see someone.”
He tilted his head. “A therapist?”
“Of sorts.”
He sighed and Keverin inched up the bed, pushing Hudson off me so he could lay his head between us.
“He needs reassurance,” Hudson advised. “We could feel your pain. Those aren’t ordinary nightmares, Cora.”
He was correct—they weren’t. They were hauntings.
CHAPTER FIVE
How do cats do it? Inquiring minds need to know.
If I was being entirely honest, I could admit Hudson’s home was stunning. Sure, my plantation house was a piece of history, not all of it good. Where my home stood out on the Louisiana backdrop, his blended into the forest like nature had birthed it.
A predominantly wooden building with two stories and a large wrap-around porch, the pack house was the heart of shifter territory. Hudson based himself here, and like me, had his private areas. But it was also where he held the weekly meal for the bossy alphas who needed to get together to gossip and gripe. I mean, share prudent information and hold problem-solving sessions.
