Prologue: It Starts With a Nightmare

SEBASTIAN.

She comes to me in my dreams.

Late at night, when my demons are finally quiet, and the world is cloaked in shadows, I dream of the strange girl with eyes like amethyst. They are a wonderfully unnatural shade of purple with golden flecks around her pupil that go perfectly with her warm olive complexion. She has silky, chestnut-brown hair, which she always wears up in a braid or a bun tied with a ribbon at the back of her head.

The girl laughs at me in my sleep.

In my dreams, she is almost always smiling, her voice lilting and cheerful. She is rarely alone, often surrounded by blurry figures I can never make out, but I can feel her love for them. I can feel her joy when she hugs them and teases them, radiating out of her like a crackling fire that surrounds her with a warmth I cannot understand.

At first, I did not think much of the dreams. I figured they meant nothing, just some conjured-up fantasy of my subconscious mind. But then they kept coming. For years I dreamt of the same girl, and I still don't know her name. Sometimes, I swear I heard one of the faceless figures calling out to her, but by the time I wake, the memory of her name has been erased from my mind like the tide washing away footprints on the sand.

When morning comes, there is no trace of her. There is no sign or hint that she's even real. At some point, I stopped caring. Whether she exists or not, she has been a light amidst my darkness. Most days, I find myself looking forward to the night, longing to see her face when sleep drags me into a place where reality cannot hurt me.

She's getting closer somehow, clearer. When I first started dreaming of her, I got glimpses, but lately, her voice is louder, her image sharper. It's like she's becoming solid within me, less a figment of my subconscious and more like a memory of something that hasn't happened yet.

But every time I try to get close to her, the girl slips through my fingers. She flickers and fades like a candle blown out by the rising sun at dawn, and every morning the world steals her away from me.

Perhaps it is for the best.

Because if she is real and I can find her, that means the other thing can find her too. The monster growls in response, pacing like a caged beast, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness to break out. It longs for her, maybe even more than I do.

Mine is a hopeful yearning, but there is nothing gentle about the beast. It hungers for her, aches for her, burns for her. It would shred its way out of Me and through the world to reach her if I allowed it. There is a small part of me that is tempted to let it. But where I see a girl, the beast sees a gem. Something to covet and protect. Something to possess.

I cannot allow it to reach her. I can never let it hurt her.

But dreams can easily become nightmares.

Last night she came to me in my sleep again, only this time, she was not laughing. She was alone in a room that I did not bother to notice because I would probably forget the details by the time I awoke. All I saw was her.

She was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as if she could look right through it and see the stars above. Her brow was furrowed, her gold and amethyst eyes narrowed. She teeth dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, and the sight twisted my stomach into a knot.

I could feel her fear. I could smell it in the air around her and read it on the delicate lines on her face. Something was coming. Something evil and terrible, and for some reason, I sensed that she could not fight it.

I tried to call out to her. I tried to reach her, stretching out my hand toward her despite the distance that felt infinite between us.

When I wake, she is gone, and all that remains is the bittersweet aftertaste of her fear. I sit up on my own bed. My sharp features are uneasy and tense as I glance toward the window.

How many more wolves fell while I slept? How many more lives lost?

Every day the darkness grows stronger, spreading farther. I do not know how to stop it, and before today, that had not bothered me.

I have no interest in being a hero. If the world is going to burn, it might as well take me with it. Maybe then he'll finally have some peace. There is no reason for me to fight it, nothing for me to hold on to or miss.

But the girl...she has something to lose. Family. Friends. A future.

If chaos crashes over these lands like a wave, the current will take her with it. Can I really stand to see such a lovely jewel reduced to sand?

The beast licks its lips, sensing its chance.

‘Go to her,’ it says softly, its voice deceptively distant. ‘Find her, and I will keep her safe. I will keep her...’

I run my hand through my golden blonde curls, trying to tame the growing sense of urgency at the thought of something frightening the girl of my dreams. Whatever tore the easy smile from her lips is drawing near. I can feel it.

‘Mate,’ the beast growls softly, the word reverberating in my bones. ‘Let me find your mate. I will destroy any threat to her until nothing remains but her smile and the ash of her enemies.’

No.

She cannot be real. She cannot be my mate. I've never even met her. I don't so much as know her name. Yet at the same time, I know her. She is the purest soul I have ever seen, shining like a star in the night to guide me and make me feel less alone.

And something is scaring her.

‘Let me out...’ the beast whispers, its voice like ebony claws stroking my mind. ‘Let us go to her.’

Something feral flashes behind my emerald green eyes, and the beast feels the exact moment the young man gives in. With a sigh, I roll out of bed and get dressed, my angular jaw clenched in determination.

I will find her, one way or the other. It's the only way I can be sure that she's safe. But as I head to the door, committed to my decision to seek out the girl I have only ever seen in my dreams, there is one thing I do not consider. The beast would protect her from the world, and I would protect her from the beast.

But who could ever hope to protect me?