Chapter 223: Wake Up

Moana

“Moana, wake up!” my wolf’s voice suddenly said. That wasn’t a dream… It was real. The rain was real. The wind beating down on me, whipping my hair into my face, was all real.

I opened my eyes, and shrieked at what I saw.

I wasn’t in bed. Iwas standing on the balcony, up on the ledge in my nightgown. I felt my stomach drop as I stumbled backwards and clung to the rail, heaving in my chest as the feeling of fight or flight kicked in. Every fiber in me screamed to get away from the ledge, and I scrambled away and back to my feet, sobbing loudly. Nothing could be heard over the sound of my own racing heartbeat and the sound of the wind and the rain; for all I knew, I was really on that cliff from my dream, and Michael very well could be standing behind me with the knife in his hand.

The door behind me stood wide open with the wind blowing the curtains aggressively. I ran inside to safety, and as I did, I ran straight into not Michael, but a petrified Edrick.

he said. “What

gathered me into his arms and carried me back to the bed. He held

“Michael has the

unblinkingly at the open balcony doors.

would come and my chest was too sore to sob anymore. I kept feeling as though I was still inside of a nightmare, like I would suddenly wake up and everything

what was going on… I didn’t know if the dreams were visions, omens, or if they were just bad dreams as my mind descended into madness. Either way, it felt as though something inside of my mind wanted me dead. It felt as though my entire body wanted to kill me, like I

for only a few minutes to make some tea, and when he returned I clutched the warm teacup

asked, stroking my leg as I sipped

“No,” I said. “But I was sleepwalking. One moment I was having a dream about Michael with that knife, and the next moment I was standing on the ledge on the balcony, like I was about to…” My voice faltered. A sob got caught in

don’t know if that knife is real, or if I’ve just imagined it,” I said between sobs. “But I’m terrified. I’m terrified that Michael might have it; I think he knows I’m the Golden Wolf, and I think he’s coming

a long time, thinking. I chanced a look up at him to see that his jaw was set hard, clenching and unclenching, while his eyes burned silver. He stared coldly at the wall in front of him, as though he was almost in a trance. I half expected him to do one of two things:

of those things. Instead, he retained his calm and collected Alpha

and then stood. He walked over to his dresser and pulled a white t-shirt

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