Anabella's POV
My feet pounded against the earth, each step a desperate push to escape the weight of my past. I felt light, almost like a bird, my heart aching to break free and rise into the endless night. The air was thick with the scent of pine, tinged with my own fear. My lungs ached with every breath, but stopping wasn't an option. I can't let them catch me. Not again. The thought looped in my mind, urging my legs forward, pulling me away from the shadows that seemed to trail me.
A sharp ache bloomed at the back of my head, disorienting, like a sudden crack in my thoughts. My vision wavered, the moonlight blurring into shifting shapes. Memories flickered; faces, places, then nothing, swallowed by a dark haze. Figures loomed in the distance, their outlines vague but threatening, their presence heavy in the fog. "No," I whispered, my voice lost in the mist.
A gasp yanked me awake, my body bolting upright, slick with sweat. My heart raced, trapped in my chest, as my room came into focus: faded floral wallpaper, creaky floorboards, moonlight spilling through the curtains. "Just a dream" I told myself, relief easing the tension in my veins. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to push away the lingering shadows of the nightmare.
"Are you okay?" Lizzy's voice cut through, soft but filled with concern. Her hazel eyes gleamed in the dim light of the bedside lamp, wide with worry. Lizzy, my best friend of four years, was my rock, the one person I trusted with my fractured pieces.
"I'm fine," I said, forcing a shaky smile "Just the usual nightmare. "I'll be okay." I stood, stretching my stiff limbs, running my fingers through my tangled hair. My reflection in the mirror caught my eye; pale, tired, a shadow of who I once was.
"Will you ever tell me about it?" Lizzy asked, her voice gentle but tinged with sadness. She sat on the edge of my bed, her hands clasped, her expression patient yet hopeful.
"Soon, I promise," I said, squeezing her hand, her warmth grounding me. "But right now, I'm starving. Let's get dinner." Her face lit up, her smile bright enough to chase away the darkness. Lizzy loved three things: me, food, and clothes, in that order. I grinned, her energy infectious, and we headed out.
The evening air of Willow Creek wrapped around us, the town humming with life, laughter from the diner, the clink of glasses from the bar, leaves rustling in the breeze. Lizzy chattered about a vintage jacket she'd found, her voice a comforting melody. But a faint unease lingered, a whisper that the nightmare wasn't just a dream, but a warning of something lurking beneath the surface.
Xavier's POV
The oak doors of my office swung open, and Daniel, my beta, strode in, his face tight with urgency. "Alpha, the rogues are nearing the pack's borders," he reported, his voice steady but grave.
A low growl rumbled in my chest, my wolf stirring with protective instinct. No one threatens my pack, not rogues, not anyone. As Xavier, the Werewolf King, my duty was to protect our lands, a sanctuary built through centuries of struggle. "Prepare the defenses," I ordered through the mindlink, my voice firm. "Protect the pack at all costs."
I stood, the chair scraping against the floor, and let my wolf emerge. My body shifted, bones realigning with a familiar thrill, fur spreading like a dark tide. My senses sharpened: the scent of the forest, the distant calls of my pack, the faint trace of intruders. I moved swiftly toward the border, the trees blurring past, my paws steady on the earth.
My pack was my strength, their loyalty unwavering. The rogues were a threat, their presence an insult to our territory. As I reached the border, I saw them, disorganized, desperate wolves, their eyes wild. My pack was already in position, their movements precise, a testament to our training. I joined them, not to destroy, but to defend, to send a message that our home was untouchable.
The conflict was swift, my pack working as one to drive the rogues back. But as we pushed them away, a question gnawed at me: why were they so bold? Their numbers suggested coordination, a purpose I couldn't yet see. I focused on the task, leading my pack with resolve. The rogues retreated, their challenge unmet, and I knew we'd protect our own, for now. But the unease lingered, a sense that this was only the beginning.