Chapter 147: Nightmares and Invasion
Seraphine's POV
Sleep was impossible.
I stared at the ceiling, blinking hard against the darkness. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind wouldn't shut down. Every time I closed my eyes, the same images replayed. The forest clearing under moonlight. Kaelen's confession, raw and desperate. "I want you, Seraphine. Not as an obligation. Not as strategy. Just you." The way his four eyes had burned when I'd whispered yes. The moment everything between us shifted, became irreversible.
I rolled over, kicking at the tangled sheets. The clock read 2:47 AM.
My fingers found the necklace automatically. The moonstone was cool against my skin, smooth and solid. Just a tool, I reminded myself. Just part of the alliance. But my thumb kept tracing the stone's surface, over and over.
The mattress squeaked as I flopped onto my back. My mind betrayed me again, drifting to what happened after the confession. His hands on my body, reverent and possessive at once. The overwhelming intensity of the bond snapping into place. The way he'd looked at me afterward, like I was something precious he'd been searching for his entire life.
Heat crawled up my neck. I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks.
Stop thinking about him.
But the images persisted. The silver hair spilling over his shoulders as he leaned over me. The four eyes locked on mine, watching every reaction. The quiet moment after, when he'd traced the fresh bond mark on my shoulder with devastating gentleness.
Uncomfortable warmth pooled low in my belly. I kicked the blankets off, letting cool air hit my sweat-damp nightshirt. My body's response to mere memory was humiliating.
I hugged a pillow tight, seeking comfort I didn't deserve. My eyelids grew heavy. Finally. Sleep dragged me under.
---
The dream started gentle.
I stood in a moonlit forest clearing, grass cool beneath my bare feet. The air smelled of pine and earth and something wild. Peaceful.
Movement in the shadows. Silver hair catching the light. Then those eyes—four of them, glowing gold and black.
Kaelen.
He walked toward me, each step silent and predatory. My heart hammered. I should run. But my feet wouldn't move.
He stopped close. Too close. His body heat warmed the air between us. Winter wind and dark spices filled my lungs.
"You're always running," he said, voice rough with frustration.
"I'm not—"
His hand slid around my waist, pulling me against him. Electricity shot through me. I felt every hard plane of his body through my thin nightshirt.
"Don't lie to me, Seraphine." His other hand cupped my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. "Prove you're not running."
His lips brushed mine. Soft. Questioning.
I tangled my fingers in his silver hair and kissed him back.
The gentleness shattered. His mouth claimed mine with desperate hunger. One hand gripped my waist almost painfully while the other slid up my spine, leaving fire in its wake.
I melted into him. Into the overwhelming sensation of being wanted.
---
Then everything twisted.
The silver hair darkened to black. The texture changed, coarser. My eyes flew open.
Four eyes closed. Two opened. Storm-gray. Cold.
My blood froze.
"No—"
Damien's cruel smile made my stomach turn. "Did you miss me, Seraphine?"
His grip tightened, bruising. The safe embrace became a cage.
"You thought hiding in Shadowmere would save you?" His laugh was harsh. "You owe me everything."
The moonlit forest warped. Silver light turned red. Flames licked up trees. The clearing transformed into Moonlight Valley. Bodies on blood-soaked ground. Buildings burning.
"Seraphine! Run!" My mother's voice, raw with terror.
"Mama!" I tried to turn, but Damien's hands locked me in place. "Where are you?"
His hands were covered in blood. Red dripped onto my nightshirt. The metallic smell choked me.
"This is your fault," he whispered. "Every death. Every scream. Because of you."
"No! Let me go! Mama!"
Her scream cut off. Terrible silence.
---
I jerked upright, nearly falling out of bed. My hands clawed at sheets, trying to orient myself.
The cabin. Kaelen's cabin. Not Moonlight Valley. Safe.
I gasped for air, lungs burning. Sweat soaked through my nightshirt, fabric clinging like a second skin. I shivered violently as cold air hit the wet fabric.
I looked around wildly. Dresser. Chair. Nightstand with the phone. Curtains. Moonlight streaming through gaps. Everything normal. Untouched.
My fingers clutched the necklace desperately. The metal was cooler than my burning skin. I squeezed the moonstone hard, using the pain to ground myself.
Just a dream. Mama's been dead for three years. It's over.
My back was drenched. Sweat trickled down my spine, pooling at the small of my back. I needed a shower. Needed to wash away the phantom blood.
But between my legs—
Fuck.
Shame burned through me. I was wet. Not from sweat. From arousal. My body had responded to Kaelen's touch in the dream and didn't care when it became a nightmare.
I cursed under my breath. This damn flesh that housed me had its own agenda, betraying my will with every unwanted response, making me feel things I desperately wanted to deny.
I threw the blanket off violently, kicking it away. The room felt suffocating. I needed water. Needed to wash away the lingering sensations—Kaelen's gentle touch and Damien's brutal grip.
My feet hit freezing wood. The shock clarified my thoughts. Good. I needed that.
I took one step toward the bathroom.
Then froze.
A smell drifted through the air. Faint but unmistakable. Pine and rust. Earth and metal. Blood.
Wrong. Foreign. Didn't belong here.
My wolf exploded inside my mind, howling warnings that made my ears ring.
Ravencrest.
My eyes flashed gold. The room sharpened in wolf vision, shadows pulling back. The window—movement. The curtains swayed. The latch I'd checked before bed was undone.
The window burst open. Wood splintered. A shadow vaulted through, landing in a crouch.
Moonlight illuminated his face.
Dark hair. Storm-gray eyes. Sharper features than three months ago. New scars across his left cheek—three parallel lines like claw marks. Broader shoulders. More muscular.
Three months since I'd seen him. Since he tried to kidnap me. Since before that—the massacre. The night his hands strangled my mother.
And now he was here. In my bedroom.
My throat locked. Fear and rage collided.
Damien straightened slowly, rising to full height. Taller than I remembered. Bigger. More dangerous. His eyes swept over me. My bare legs. The thin nightshirt barely reaching mid-thigh. My vulnerability.
"Hello, Seraphine." His voice was flat. "Did you miss me?"
The same words from the dream.