Just My Imagination

*Hezzlie*

I’m running through the forest, looking for something. Looking for someone.
Or maybe something was right. I’m looking for that wolf. The golden one. I know that’s what I’m searching for now as I shift and take off with a smile on my face. He’s out here somewhere, waiting for me. My heart skips a beat at the thought of it–at the thought of him.
I try to keep my thoughts positive as my black wolf rushes through the forest. I can’t let the negativity that always seeps in and ruins these dreams slow me down.
However, as I turn a corner and step out into a clearing, the scene shifts. I’m no longer in what appears to be an enchanted forest surrounded by happy little creatures and mystical moonbeams. No, I’m back in that dark area of the woods where I feel like something is lurking, ready to jump out at any moment and tear me apart.
I try to shift back into my human form, but I can’t. I’m stuck, as usual, in some sort of monstrous form that is half-human half-wolf. I start screaming, trying to wake myself up, wishing the golden wolf would leap out of the trees and save me, but no one is coming to help me.
“Hezzlie?”
I hear a distant voice calling my name. It sounds familiar, but I know for sure it’s not the voice of the man I wanted to hear.
It’s not Rowan.
“Hezzlie? You’re all right. It’s just a dream.”
Slowly, the world around me melts away, and I slip through a patch of inky sea on my way back to my bed. Before I even open my eyes, I remember where I am.
I’m at the mansion, Moonstryker Mansion, and it’s Dr. Bolton who is sitting on my bed trying to wake me up.
I open my eyes, and he smiles at me. “There you are. It’s all right. It was just a dream.”
Taking a deep breath, I slowly sit up, pulling my blankets along with me. At least I’m not tied to the bed anymore.
He has his clipboard and is taking notes. Even though that’s exactly what the doctors did at Peripheral, including Dr. Bolton, it still seems strange to me to see him do it now. I assume he’s just writing down the time and what I said, if anything.
My stomach lurches up into my throat. “Did I… say anything unusual?”
His eyes widen before he looks up from his notes. “No, not really. Just… help me. That’s what you usually say. And something about a wolf.”
I nod, wondering if he’s telling me the truth. I can’t ask him, though. What would I say, “Did you know I was hoping Rowan would help me? Did I shout his name?”
“You’re all right, Hezzlie.” He smooths my blankets a bit and then stands. “The dreams will be over for tonight.”
“They don’t seem to be getting any better,” I say to his back as he’s walking away. “I thought being here was supposed to make them better.”
Slowly, he turns to face me. “They will get better, but we need to get through the party and see your mother off before we can start the next phase of your treatment.”
I’m glad he’s told me this, but I want to know more. “What does that entail?”
He forces a smile. “Nothing too scary. Just a bit more of a confrontation with what’s setting these dreams off to begin with.”
“You mean, I’m going to have to face a wolf? A real wolf?” I ask, trying to discern what he’s talking about.
He chuckles, and I’m relieved to hear he thinks that notion sounds ridiculous since I also think it does. “No, no. It’s not what you’re imagining. I’ll be able to tell you more in a few days. For now, get some rest. You’re going to need your strength for that party. From what I hear, it’s going to be quite the shindig.”
I almost laugh at his word choice but bite it back. He tells me goodnight and leaves, and I whisper, “Who the hell says shindig anymore?”
No one answers me, thank goodness. I sink back under the covers and reach for sleep again, hoping this time I have a more pleasant dream. Part of me says it’ll be just fine so long as Rowan doesn’t make an appearance, but the other part of me hopes he’s there. It shouldn’t matter. He’s in love with Princess Mara. How can I compete with that?
I can’t. I close my eyes, leaving it up to fate.

***

*Rowan*

James comes out of Hezzlie’s room with an expression I can’t read despite my best efforts. Clinical, maybe? Exhausted, perhaps?
“Well?” I demand, folding my arms across my chest.
“Well… what?” he asks, dragging a hand down his face. He’s definitely tired. It is the middle of the night, after all.
“Is she….” I don’t even know what it is I want to know, if I’m honest with myself. I just want to know something. I want to know if she’s all right, I suppose. I want to know if she tried to kiss him. I want to know if she did kiss him. “Okay?” I settle for the most benign word I can think of.
‘She’s fine. Just had another dream, that’s all.” He moves past me, like he wants to go to his room and go to bed.
I’m not ready to let him yet. I want to know if I was right when I thought I heard her say my name, but how can I ask that? “Well, I hope you told her to… stop shouting for tonight.”
He shakes his head. “You know she won’t have another bad dream. Go to bed–Alpha.”
Snarling, I say, “I hope you have those DNA results back tomorrow.”
“I told you it would take some time,” he reminds me as he heads down the hall. “I’ll get them to you as soon as I can.”
“Tomorrow!” I don’t shout, but I make sure he knows it’s an order.
I stride back to my room and close the door behind me. My bed beckons to my weary body, but my mind is on full alert. My mate was in distress a few moments ago, and even though it was just a dream, my wolf is at the ready. He wants to go for another run, but I can’t do that, not after Hezzlie saw me yesterday.
I force myself to lie down, but my mind goes back to Hezzlie. Was she dreaming about me? Why don’t I ever dream about her?
I roll over. “This is stupid.” I shouldn’t want to dream about her. After all, I can’t keep her. I close my eyes, willing them to stay that way, and try to think of something else. Anything else.
I imagine myself standing victorious on the battlefield in my wolf form, both of my front paws on the bloodied, dead body of Alpha King Solomon. I toss my head back in the air and howl! Over my shoulder, I see the castle. Mara and Mother stand in the window, waving. They are both safe and free from their respective prisons.
But even in my Imagination, I see Hezzlie. She’s not in the window looking back at me, though. She’s across the battlefield, in chains, weeping. I shift and magically have clothing on as I glide toward her. I break her chains and take her in my arms, caressing her porcelain cheek. “I’ll always protect you, my mate!” I press my lips to hers, and the rich flavor of strawberries and vanilla I’d tasted briefly when she’d kissed me the night before washes over me. Suddenly, we are alone, in my bedroom, and–
“This is so fucking stupid!” I lift a pillow and slam it down on my face. I can’t let myself think about her that way. As soon as she turns eighteen and shifts for the first time, she’s leaving.
I hold the pillow there for a bit and slowly begin to doze off. Despite my best efforts I know that, when I fall asleep, I’ll dream of her.