Chapter 270 SINCE THIS IS JUST A DREAM
Edeline
I moaned softly when his lips left mine, only to trail along my jaw. He bit gently at the curve of my neck, each love bite sending waves of heat through me. My body tightened around him, and I could feel his arousal pressing hard against me.
"We do not have much time," he murmured against my skin, his breath warm and ragged.
I clung to him, threading my fingers through his hair as if that might keep him there longer. His hands cupped my face, and he brushed strands of hair out of my eyes with such tenderness that my heart ached.
For a moment, I forgot every reason I had ever been angry with him.
“I just want to tell you I love you. And I miss you. I want to hear you say it back to me.” His blue eyes shimmered with something raw, almost desperate. “Since this is just a dream... I just want to hear you say you love me.”
His voice was barely a whisper, but it hit me deep.
“I love you,” I murmured without hesitation, the words slipping from me like a truth I did not need to think about.
His lips found mine—soft at first, like a sigh between us—and then he kissed his way down the back of my neck. When his teeth sank into the place where my mark used to be, my head tilted back involuntarily. A shiver of pleasure shot through me, spreading to every inch of my body like wildfire.
“Percival...” His name came out of me, rough and desperate, as if my voice was dragging behind it every ounce of longing I had buried. The way his body pressed into mine sent sparks skittering over my skin, making me tingle everywhere he touched.
…
A low, unfamiliar voice rumbled in my head, snapping me out of the dream.
“No, I am not Percival. Wake up, Edeline.”
My eyes flew open, and I found Damon standing over me with a smirk plastered across his face, one brow raised mischievously.
“Wet dreaming, huh?” he teased, clearly amused.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I sat up too fast, brushing my hair back with shaky fingers. “I was not—”
He cut me off with a raised hand, chuckling. “Your scent says otherwise.” Damon’s smirk deepened as he crossed his arms. “Now get up. Midnight run. It’s a full moon—did you forget?”
Embarrassment flooded through me, and I could feel the blush spreading across my face. Glaring at him, I turned toward the door.
“I’ll be down in a second,” I mumbled, trying to compose myself.
But Damon, of course, had to twist the knife. As I grabbed a pillow in frustration and hurled it at him, he ducked, laughing under his breath. “Clean yourself up first,” he called over his shoulder, locking the door behind him as he left.
I sighed and pressed my fingertips to my lips, still tingling from the phantom kiss.
It felt so real.
The weight of him. The heat of his mouth. The tattoos, the muscles—every part of him larger, sharper, and more vivid than the memory I knew. I had made him up, sculpting the perfect dream version of Percival. But it was just that. A dream. Nothing more.
I shook my head and swung my legs off the bed, padding barefoot toward the bathroom. The cool tile under my feet helped ground me as I splashed water on my face. When I caught a glimpse of my reflection, I noticed that some of the scrapes and bruises I had gotten earlier had already started to heal. I would be fine by morning.
But then I noticed something else.
My mark.
The skin around it was red and tender, as if freshly disturbed. I stared at it in disbelief.
No... That cannot be right.
It was just a dream. Right?
I made a mental note to ask the pack doctor about the weird things that sometimes happened between mates. They should really teach this stuff. There should be some kind of Mate 101 class, honestly. All they ever tell us is that mates are sacred, but not how to deal with all the... weirdness.
I sighed again, my body still humming with the lingering arousal from the dream. I needed this run. The full moon would help clear my head.
…
I took a quick five-minute shower to rinse off the scent of the dream. Once I was dry, I did not even bother with clothes—there was no point. Around here, no one cared about things like modesty. Nudity was just part of life. In two months, I had seen more naked bodies in this pack than I had in my entire life back at Crescent Moon.
I bounded down the wooden steps of the deck, the night air cool against my bare skin. My feet hit the ground lightly, and in the same fluid motion, I shifted—fur replacing skin, paws sinking into the soft earth.
The pack was already gathering, their wolf forms waiting under the pale glow of the full moon. The night was alive with energy, buzzing through the air like static. Wolves were stretching and snapping at each other playfully, preparing for the midnight run.
General Axel—though everyone just called him Axe—let out a sharp bark to get our attention. His massive wolf stood at the front, his silver coat gleaming under the moonlight. He tilted his head back and released a long, deep howl, the sound echoing across the forest.
One by one, we all joined in, raising our voices to the sky. Sixty wolves howling together, singing to the moon like a sacred hymn.
Even though the pack had hundreds of members, not all of them participated in the run. It was usually the smaller wolves, the fighters, and anyone who felt like running beneath the full moon’s pull.
And I loved it.
Every month, when the moon was at its fullest, we ran together. No thoughts, no burdens—just pure instinct and freedom.
General Axe barked, signaling it was time to move, and we did. This was always fun for my cat—her moment to feel in charge of everything. Now I knew what it felt like to be one with my wolf. Let her lead, but don’t get lost in your thoughts.
I sat with her in my mind, side by side, letting her take the lead.
The wolves took off, sprinting into the wild, free night. Our leader of the night was at the front, guiding us through the trees. Conor usually took charge, but tonight, he was nowhere to be found.
My wolf ran beside the others, weaving between trees, her paws hitting the ground with light thuds. The wind rushed by, and she closed her eyes slightly, savoring the way it whipped around us.
It was a cool night. The scent of burning wood drifted through the air—remnants of a fire we must have passed along the way. The sky above us was an endless black abyss, dotted with stars that gleamed like scattered diamonds. The moon was bright tonight, casting silver light over everything, making the forest look dreamlike.
My wolf was happy, climbing the hills alongside her packmates. She ran freely, her fur ruffling in the breeze.
Alexa’s wolf trotted up beside me, her sleek black fur shimmering under the moonlight. Her hazel-gold eyes always caught attention, even among wolves. She gave a playful growl, her tongue lolling in a wolfish grin, then nipped at my wolf’s back just for fun.
We took off faster, paws pounding the earth, racing up the mountainside.
The feeling was electric. I felt free—like I had never belonged to something this real before. This wasn’t just a group; it was a true pack. We ran as one, every step in sync. A unit. A family.
When we reached the top of the mountain, the world opened up before us. The hill was covered in lush green grass, sloping down to the valley below. A wild river cut through the land, its dark waters glimmering with the moon’s reflection, like black diamonds scattered across its surface. The full moon hung above us, bathing everything in silver light.
We gathered close together, our sides brushing as we caught our breath, tongues lolling from the run. General Axe stood at the front, his massive head raised to the moon, his eyes gleaming with its light. He tilted his head back and let out a long, low howl.
The pack followed, a chorus of growls, whines, and howls rising into the night. Alexa and Damon’s wolves added their voices too, and so did I, joining the music that was ours alone.
My wolf thought it was beautiful—the song we offered to the moon. A thank-you. A tradition passed down through countless nights. This wasn’t just sound; it was our song.
Happiness bloomed deep inside me, spreading through every inch of skin and fur. In that moment, my wolf and I were perfectly in sync. There was no resistance between us, no hesitation. Just one shared feeling of belonging. This was home.
Then, with a sharp bark, General Axe let us know it was time. The hunt began.
Every full moon, we gathered at the peak. We sang our song. And then, we ran. We chased prey under the cover of the forest, moving like shadows through the trees.
My wolf leapt down the mountain slope, paws skimming over rocks and roots. We passed the rest of the pack and even General Axe’s wolf as we hurtled down the hill. When we reached the cool stream, we splashed through it, water soaking our fur—but the cold never touched us.
We slowed as we entered the deeper part of the forest, slipping into silence. My wolf’s ears twitched, listening for the faintest sounds.
Alexa's presence brushed close to mine, her body heat just within reach. Damon’s wolf arrived soon after, silent as the night. One by one, the other wolves drifted away into the forest, each chasing their own prey.
We stood still, side by side, waiting, listening.
Then, my wolf caught a scent—something strange. Different.
She inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as she locked onto the unfamiliar smell. Without hesitation, she took off, paws kicking up dirt and leaves as she raced deeper into the forest.
The scent grew stronger. She slowed, her body dropping low to the ground as we slipped into the underbrush. Hidden. Silent.
The smell was close now—just beyond the next tree. My wolf crouched, muscles tensing. We stayed perfectly still, only breathing, only watching.
And then, we waited.
A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, sending a flurry of dry leaves swirling around as the dancers moved. She shut her eyes, inhaling deeply, savoring the earthy scent of the outdoors.
Suddenly, the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs told her that the deer was getting closer. He stepped carefully onto the grassy clearing, emerging from the thick, dark woods. He paused just where a moonbeam filtered down from the treetops, illuminating his massive form. He was a huge bull, powerful and majestic, with at least forty points on his impressive rack. He was meant to be her meal, and she was determined to claim him.
Her muscles coiled like springs, ready for action. She felt the adrenaline coursing through her, preparing her for the leap. She was bigger now, stronger, more skilled. During moments like this, she took the lead in their shared mind. She knew what to do, and I trusted her instincts completely. There was no room for doubt.
Without hesitation, she launched herself forward, her powerful hind legs propelling her into the air. She soared over the bushes, a blur of fur and determination. The deer’s head snapped up, startled, but fear held him in place. My wolf’s massive paws landed on the deer’s neck as her teeth sank deep into his throat. The deer's back legs kicked out in panic, but she held on tight, pulling him down just as he started to buck.
She was not letting go. This was her prize, and she wanted it all to herself. As the warm blood filled her mouth, her grip tightened, her teeth digging deeper into the soft flesh.
Suddenly, two more wolves burst from the underbrush—Alexa and Damon. They sprang into action, joining the fray. While my wolf maintained her fierce hold from the front, their teeth tore into the deer’s belly, ripping skin from bone.
Even in her anger, she knew she had to finish the kill first.