"Ahhh… ahhh…"
Eric twisted in his sleep, sweat dampening his sheets. The shadows in his dream pressed down on him, hot breath brushing his ear.
"Yes… say my name," a low, husky whisper commanded.
Eric's body trembled. He didn't know why he was obeying, why his lips parted to cry out for someone he didn't even know. Strong arms pinned him, holding him captive. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as the stranger's voice grew rougher, more insistent.
"No—stop—" Eric gasped, but his body betrayed him. The dream wrapped tighter around him, suffocating, until darkness finally swallowed him whole.
---
The next morning, Eric woke with a sharp cry. His heart pounded as he sat upright, clutching his sheets.
"It… it was a dream?" he whispered, his throat dry. But his body told a different story—sore, heavy, trembling. His hands shook as he touched his own chest, shivering at the memory.
What was that? Who was that?
He dragged himself from bed, still rattled, and began to get ready for school. Just as he pulled his shirt over his head, his mother peeked inside.
"Eric, you're late again," she said firmly, though her eyes softened as she looked at him.
"Coming, Mom," Eric replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Study hard, my child. And don't let anyone bully you," she reminded him, kissing his forehead.
"I won't," he murmured, though his mind was far from school.
---
By the time Eric reached class, the dream still haunted him. He sat quietly in his corner as the teacher announced a new transfer student.
A tall boy walked in, his presence heavy, commanding, like the very air bent toward him.
"Introduce yourself," the teacher said.
The boy lifted his gaze, and Eric's breath caught in his throat.
It was him.
The voice. The shadow. The stranger from his dream.
Eric's world tilted as he stared at the one who had claimed him in the night.
---
"What?"
How could this be? How is that even possible? It was just a dream…
Eric tried to calm himself, but his chest still tightened. The teacher's voice pulled him back.
"Jackson, choose where you'd like to sit."
Jackson's finger lifted—pointing straight at Eric.
"I want to sit with him."
Eric's stomach dropped. Shock froze him in place as the whole class erupted.
"Oh, I'm so jealous!"
"No, he should sit with me!"
"He's so handsome."
"Why did he choose that Omega?"
"Maybe he doesn't know…"
"Quiet down, everyone!" the teacher said firmly.
As the teacher left the classroom, Jackson's eyes never left Eric.
"What are you looking at?" Eric muttered, trying to hide his face.
Jackson said nothing. He just kept staring, his gaze heavy, burning.
When the final bell rang, Eric hurried to escape—but Jackson was faster. At the back of the school, strong hands slammed against the wall beside Eric, trapping him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Jackson's voice was low, commanding.
Eric froze. His blood turned cold. Those were the same words from his dream.
Lost in the memory, Eric barely noticed when Jackson leaned closer. Their lips almost touched before Eric shoved him back.
But Jackson caught his wrist, tightening his grip. "Wow… you're strong." His hands began to trail along Eric's body, making Eric's breath hitch. That strange, burning sensation returned, and Eric hated that he couldn't stop it.
"Please… stop," Eric whispered. "Let me go. I have to go home."
Jackson's eyes darkened, unwilling to release him—until voices echoed nearby. Someone was coming. With a sharp glance, Jackson pulled away and left without a word.
Eric staggered home, his mother waiting at the door, worry etched on her face.
"Eric, why are you late? Did you get bullied again?"
"No, it's fine, Mom," he said quickly. "I was just late because… I was doing homework with Lucas, that's all. Don't worry, I'm fine."
His mother sighed. "Come, let's eat then."
"Okay, Mom. In a minute."
After dinner, Eric washed the dishes and retreated to his room. He sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind heavy with fear and questions.
How am I going to sleep without seeing that dream again?
Hours later, exhaustion finally pulled him under.
---
Eric tossed and turned, sleep dragging him into darkness.
At first, there was silence. Then—footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Approaching.
Eric's breath quickened as the shadows formed into a familiar figure. Tall. Broad shoulders. Those same piercing eyes.
"You can't run from me," the voice whispered, curling around his mind like smoke.
Eric stumbled backward, shaking his head. "This isn't real. You're not real!"
Strong hands grabbed his wrist, pulling him close. His heart hammered as he was pressed against a wall that hadn't been there before.
"Why do you resist?" the stranger murmured. "Your body knows me… even if your mind denies it."
"No—stop—" Eric's voice cracked. But the heat flooding through him told another story. He hated it. He hated that he couldn't fight it.
The stranger leaned down, his lips brushing Eric's ear.
"You belong to me."
Eric's eyes widened in terror. "Who are you?!"
The man's lips curved into a dangerous smile.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Suddenly, Eric jolted awake—his chest heaving, his sheets clinging to his skin. His room was dark and quiet… but his window was open.
The curtain swayed.
And there, on the windowsill, sat a single black feather.
Eric's blood ran cold.
To be continued…