Chapter 43 The Boy Who Dreams of Wolves
POV: Miguel
I haven't slept properly in three weeks.
Not since Luna left.
My mom thinks it's heartbreak. My friends think I'm being dramatic. My guidance counselor suggested I "explore healthy coping mechanisms for relationship changes."
None of them understand.
This isn't about missing my girlfriend. This is about the fact that every time I close my eyes, I see things that shouldn't exist.
I see Luna running through a forest that glows silver under an impossible moon.
I see her surrounded by people who move too fast, speak too quietly, watch her with eyes that catch the light wrong.
I see shadows with teeth.
And I feel her. God, I feel her like she's standing right next to me even though she's hundreds of miles away at some boarding school I can't visit, can't call, can't reach.
The guidance counselor would probably say I need professional help if I told her any of that.
"Miguel, you coming or what?"
I blink and realize I'm standing in the middle of the hallway. Jake is staring at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have.
"Yeah. Sorry."
We head to lunch, and I try to focus on normal things. Chemistry homework. Friday's game. Anything but the hollow ache in my chest that's been there since Luna told me what she really was.
A werewolf.
My girlfriend is a werewolf.
I still don't know if I really believe it or if she made up an elaborate story because she didn't know how to break up with me properly. But then I remember the way she looked at me that night. The fear in her eyes. The desperate honesty.
She was telling the truth.
Which means everything I've been dreaming is probably real too.
"Dude, you're doing it again." Jake waves a hand in front of my face.
"Doing what?"
"Staring at nothing like you're in a horror movie."
I force a laugh. "Just tired."
"You've been 'just tired' for weeks, man. Is this about Luna? Because she's at boarding school, not dead. You can still call her, right?"
No. No, I can't.
She gave me a number before she left, but every time I try it goes straight to voicemail. Like the phone doesn't exist. Like she doesn't exist anywhere but in my dreams.
"It's complicated," I mutter.
Jake shakes his head but doesn't push. We grab our food and sit with the usual group. Everyone's talking about some party this weekend. I nod in the right places and laugh when I'm supposed to, but I'm not really there.
I'm thinking about last night's dream.
It was different from the others.
Usually, I see Luna from a distance. Running, laughing, training with people I don't recognize. Sometimes she looks happy. Sometimes she looks scared. But she's always alive. Always okay.
Last night, she wasn't okay.
Last night, I saw her surrounded by darkness. Not regular darkness. This was alive. Crawling. Hungry.
And she was calling my name.
I woke up with my chest on fire and her voice echoing in my head. "Miguel, help me. Miguel, please."
But how the hell am I supposed to help her when I don't even know where she is?
"Miguel!"
I jerk my head up. Everyone at the table is staring at me.
"What?"
"I asked if you're going to Sarah's party Friday," Jake repeats slowly, like he's talking to a child.
"Oh. Uh, maybe. I'll let you know."
The conversation moves on without me. I pick at my food but don't eat much. My stomach has been twisted in knots for days.
Something's wrong.
I don't know how I know. I just do. It's this feeling in my gut, this pull toward something I can't see or touch or understand.
It's her.
Luna.
She's in trouble.
The bell rings, and I dump my tray. As I'm walking to my next class, my phone buzzes. For one wild second, I think it might be her.
It's not.
It's my mom asking if I'll be home for dinner.
I text back yes and shove my phone in my pocket.
The rest of the day drags. I barely pay attention in any of my classes. My teachers have stopped calling on me because they know I won't have the answer.
By the time I get home, I'm exhausted even though I haven't done anything.
"Miguel, honey, you okay?" Mom asks when I walk in.
"Fine. Just tired."
"You're always tired lately. Maybe you should see a doctor."
"I'm fine, Mom."
She gives me that look. The one that says she doesn't believe me but won't push. "Dinner's in an hour."
I nod and head upstairs to my room. I drop my bag by the door and collapse on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Luna's face stares back at me from the poster we took at the fair last summer. We're both laughing, covered in powdered sugar from the funnel cake stand. She's got that smile. The real one she only gives when she's genuinely happy.
I wonder if she smiles like that anymore.
I wonder if she thinks about me at all or if her new world has swallowed her whole.
My eyes drift shut even though I don't want them to. I'm scared of what I'll see. But I'm so tired. So damn tired.
Sleep takes me under.
And the dreams begin again.
This time, I'm not watching from a distance.
This time, I'm there.
I'm standing in a forest that shouldn't exist. The trees are too tall, too dark, too alive. The moon overhead is massive and silver and wrong.
"Miguel."
I spin around.
Luna's standing there, but she's different. Her eyes glow faintly in the darkness. Her movements are too fluid. Too predatory.
"Luna?"
"You shouldn't be here." Her voice sounds layered, like there's something else speaking through her.
"Where is here?"
"You need to wake up. You need to stay away."
"Stay away from what?"
She opens her mouth to answer, but before she can, the shadows move.
They pour out from between the trees like liquid night. They writhe and twist and reach for her with fingers that aren't fingers.
Luna turns to face them, and for the first time since I've known her, I see real fear on her face.
"Miguel, run."
"I'm not leaving you!"
"You have to. You don't belong here. You're human. You'll die."
The shadows are getting closer. They're making sounds now. Whispers. Laughter. Screaming.
I try to move toward her, but my feet won't cooperate. It's like I'm stuck in cement.
"Luna!"
She looks back at me one last time, and I see tears streaming down her face.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should never have dragged you into this."
"Into what? Luna, what's happening?"
But she's already turning back to the shadows. Her body shifts. Changes. Fur ripples across her skin. Her hands become claws.
She's transforming.
Right in front of me, my girlfriend is turning into a wolf.
And the shadows swallow her whole.
"LUNA!"
I jolt awake, gasping for air. My sheets are soaked with sweat. My heart is hammering so hard I think it might burst out of my chest.
But that's not what scares me.
What scares me is the burning.
My right hand is on fire.
I look down and almost scream.
There's a mark on my palm. Faint, silvery, glowing like moonlight. It looks like a crescent moon, but twisted. Broken.
I blink, and it's gone.
But I can still feel it. Still feel her.
Something is coming for Luna.
Something dark and hungry and wrong.
And I have no idea how to warn her.
My phone sits on the nightstand, useless. I grab it anyway and pull up her contact. My thumb hovers over the call button.
It won't work. It never works.
But I have to try.
I press call.
It rings.
Oh God, it actually rings.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Hello?"
My breath catches. "Luna?"
There's silence on the other end. Then, barely audible, "Miguel?"
"Luna, listen to me. Something's wrong. Something's coming. I've been dreaming about shadows and darkness and—"
"How are you calling me? This number doesn't work for humans."
"I don't know! I don't know how any of this works! But you have to listen. You're in danger. Real danger. I can feel it."
More silence.
Then, in a voice so small it breaks my heart, "I know."
"What?"
"I can feel it too. Something's been watching me. Following me. I thought I was paranoid, but—"
The line crackles. Distorts.
"Luna? Luna!"
Her voice comes through broken and distant. "Miguel, you have to—stay away—human—can't protect—"
"Luna!"
The call drops.
I try again. Straight to voicemail.
"DAMN IT!"
I throw my phone across the room. It hits the wall and clatters to the floor.
My mom calls from downstairs, "Miguel? You okay?"
"Fine!" I shout back, even though I'm anything but fine.
I sit on the edge of my bed, head in my hands, trying to breathe.
She knows. She knows something's wrong too.
But what can I do? I'm human. Normal. Powerless.
Except for this connection. This bond that shouldn't exist between a human boy and a wolf girl.
I look at my palm again. The mark is still gone, but I can feel where it was. Can feel the heat of it burning just beneath the skin.
Whatever's coming for Luna, it's coming soon.
And I'm going to find a way to help her.
Even if it kills me.