I jerked awake, a scream dying in my throat as the nightmare released its grip. Sweat drenched my nightgown, and my heart hammered against my ribs like it wanted to escape. The memory of those men in the forest, their hands on me, the knife materializing, the blood—it all swirled together in my dreams, more vivid than ever.
Three nights in a row now. Three nights of the same terrors.
I glanced at the clock: 2:47 AM. Too early to get up, too late to hope for decent sleep. Beside me, the bed was empty—Kaelen had been called to an emergency council meeting with King Gareth hours ago.
A soft knock at my door startled me.
"Luna?" Finnian's voice came through the wood, concerned. "I heard... Are you alright?"
Of course he had heard. Werewolf hearing was a curse sometimes.
"I'm fine," I called back, trying to steady my voice. "Just a dream."
The door cracked open, and Finnian's worried face appeared. "This is the third night. I should inform Alpha Thorne—"
