Chapter 68: Chapter 68

Zeke’s POV “Alina!”

In His Eyes: Dreams The words come out in a choked scream, the syllables stretched and strained.

But there’s no response. Her empty gaze seems to pierce through the darkness, detached and unfazed by the struggle beneath her hands. My chest tightens with fear, as if sharp claws are digging into my ribs, demanding to be set free from the crushing grip that looms over me. Desperation and confusion mingled in my eyes as I wrestled against her tight grip.

“Alina, please!” Struggling to speak, I managed to rasp out my words, my plea echoing in the void that separated us. “Let me go!”

And then, as if jolted awake from a dream, her eyes widen with recognition. In an instant, the vacant look on her face is replaced by a surge of realization, as she comprehends the magnitude of what she is doing. The tightness around my throat loosens, allowing me to take a gasping breath and feel the immediate relief of fresh oxygen entering my lungs.

“Zeke?”

As she speaks, her voice wavers, conveying a sense of confusion and deep remorse. Clutching my throat, I could still feel the lingering sensation of her hands, like a ghostly touch.

“What... What happened, Alina?”

Horror and guilt immediately wash over her face, causing her to recoil. Her hands tremble uncontrollably as she gazes at them, her entire body filled with a sense of unease.

“I don’t... I don’t know. I just... I thought I was dreaming.”

As I sit up, the bed feels even colder than it did moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says, her voice a fragile apology in the quiet darkness. “I’m sorry.”

“Alina, it’s okay,” I murmur, my voice an attempt at reassurance. “It was... just a bad dream, right?”

As she looks at me, her eyes, clouded with remnants of the night’s confusion, well up with tears, revealing a blend of fear and sorrow on her face.

“I’m sorry, Zeke,” she whispers, her voice trembling, eyes never wavering from my neck. “I’m so sorry, sorry, so sorry...”

My hand reaches out, delicately cupping her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin.

fell.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry, come on.’

But her tears kept streaming down her face, leaving gentle pathways as they I guide her to sit beside me on the bed, the cold reality of the night enveloping us in its presence. “Alina, you can’t blame yourself. We’re both trying to figure this out, and sometimes things get a little messy. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

With a nod, her face, streaked with tears, remains a poignant display of sorrow. As I pull her into a comforting embrace, I can feel her body relax against mine, seeking solace in the safety of my arms.

“We’ll get through this, Alina. Together.”

“I hurt you, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Alina whispers, her words barely audible, revealing the fragile admission of the turmoil within.

“Alina, listen to me,” I say, my voice a gentle murmur. “We can’t predict what’ll happen, but we can face it together. And I’m not giving up on us.”

“Were you always like this?” She looks up, her gaze meeting mine with a mix of gratitude and longing. “I don’t think I deserve someone as patient and understanding as you, Zeke.”

“Don’t say that,” I reply, my thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re worth every bit of patience and understanding. We’ll find a way through this, okay?”

Alina’s sudden gasp filled the air, her widened eyes reflecting pure horror, as her hands instinctively reached out to touch my neck. The moment her fingers make contact with my skin, a grimace forms on my face. I can then feel a wetness against my neck, and my fingers confirm it as they come away stained with blood.

“Zeke, you’re bleeding!”

My eyes shift downward, and I see a mark on my neck, a tiny wound left behind by the strength of her grip during the nightmare.

Alina’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of blood, her hands shaking as she comprehended the unintended consequence of her actions.

With a gentle touch, I guide Alina to sit beside me on the bed, feeling the warmth of her presence next to mine. As I reach for the first aid kit, I notice the glistening tears streaking down her face, revealing the depth of her inner turmoil. With a gentle smile, I offer her reassurance.

“Let’s get you calmed down, okay?”

I speak softly, my voice a calming murmur. With a bandage in hand, I carefully unravel it, feeling the soft fabric and seeing the adhesive side that will soon adhere to my neck, covering the scratches.

Alina nods, her hands trembling slightly, clearly still affected by what happened. Her eyes remain fixed on me, flickering between the bandage and my face, as if searching for answers. “I’m sorry, Zeke. I don’t know why I did that.”

With the bandage securely in place on my neck, I am relieved to feel the coolness providing some comfort.

“It’s okay, Alina. Don’t worry about it.”

Glancing at her, I could see a complex blend of gratitude and guilt reflecting in her eyes. As she tries to maintain her composure, there’s a lingering sense of vulnerability in the air.

“You’re hurt because of me,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the night. “I could have killed you.”

“You can’t kill me.” I reach out, gently brushing her hair away from her face. “Besides, it’s just a scratch, Alina.”

But her focus never wavers from the bandage, her fingertips gently caressing the fabric as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden within the plain white surface. “I could have really hurt you, Zeke. What if it happens again? What if I can’t control it?”

I pause, setting the first aid kit aside, taking a moment to listen to the birds chirping in the distance. “We’ll find a way to manage it, Alina. And I won’t let you push yourself away because of this. We face it together.”

The stillness in the air intensifies the weight of uncertainty, enveloping us in a shared vulnerability. My words, spoken with a quiet determination, act as an anchor, keeping us grounded in the midst of the unknown storm.

“Maybe,” Tentatively, she begins speaking, her voice trembling with a touch of hesitation. “Maybe it’s better if I sleep outside.

That way, I won’t hurt you.”

I vigorously shake my head, adamant about not allowing her to bear the guilt alone.

“No, Alina. If anything, I should be the one staying outside.”

“Are you serious right now?” Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of surprise and frustration flickering within. “Why aren’t you upset?!”

I reach for her hands, feeling their soft warmth in my grasp. “Alina, I can’t be angry at you. We’re navigating uncharted territory, and I won’t abandon you when you need support the most.”

I finish, I guide her down the bed, encouraging her to lie back. This time, there’s no distance between us. Instead, I pull her close, my arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. The warmth of the moment is both soothing and reassuring.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, Alina,” I say, my fingers gently running through her hair. “We’ll figure this out, step by step.”

She lets out a shaky breath, the weight of the night’s events still pressing on her. “I don’t want to hurt you, Zeke.”

I hold her tighter, the words spoken in the quiet of the room. “You won’t, Alina. We’ll find a way through this, and I’m not going anywhere.”

But the traces of fear persist in her eyes, and I feel the need to lighten the atmosphere. “You know what we need? A distraction.

How about a funny story?”

She gives a small scoff, a hesitant smile forming.

“I don’t think you can be funny, even if you try.”

“Don’t believe me?” I begin, “You know, when I was younger, I tried to cook dinner for the pack. Let’s just say, it ended up being more of a bonfire than a meal. The Alpha was so mad at me, he told me to run around the pack’s perimeter for two weeks.”

With each passing moment in the story, Alina’s laughter grows more genuine, erasing the lines of worry etched on her face. Her beautiful laugh fills the room, momentarily drowning out all other sounds.

She smiles, her eyes reflecting gratitude. “Thank you, Zeke. I needed that.”

“Alina,” I whisper, “try to get some rest. I’ll be right here with you.”

Her gaze meets mine, and there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I can’t, Zeke. I don’t trust myself. What if something happens again?”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” I reach out, placing a reassuring hand on hers. “I trust you.”

She looks hesitant but eventually lies back down. I settle beside her, my fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. The rhythm becomes a lullaby, an attempt to ease the tension etched into her very being.

“They said humming will help those who can’t sleep,” I murmur, the memories of nights spent together flooding back. “Do you want me to hum for you?”

A small nod from Alina, and I find myself humming a tune. The soft vibrations of the hum resonate through the room, wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.

With each circular motion on her back and the soothing hum escaping my lips, I sense her tense muscles gradually easing into relaxation. The weight of the night’s worries lifts, if only temporarily. I catch a glimpse of her, and her eyes slowly drift shut, succumbing to the soothing melody.

Just as I’m about to succumb to the embrace of sleep, Alina stirs.

Her voice, soft and trembling, breaks through the stillness.

“Do you still love me? Even after what I did?”

The unexpected question catches me off guard, but I respond to her nonetheless. My hand instinctively moves to her cheek, a gentle gesture of affection. Alina refuses to meet my eyes, her gaze fixed on the ground, clearly embarrassed.

“Always, Alina. Nothing can change that.’

“But what if I’m like this, uncontrollable, maybe even... more murderous?”

Each word she spoke seemed to carry the weight of her fear, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Leaning in, I gently press my lips against her forehead, leaving a tender kiss.

“Even more, on days when you doubt yourself.”

Eventually, her breathing became rhythmic, a sign of fragile peace after the chaotic events. I steal glances at her, finding solace in the gentle, consistent rise and fall of her chest.

In the stillness, every now and then, I find myself abruptly awakening, as if driven to ensure her safety. With my arm wrapped around her, I pull her closer, a silent gesture of protection against the haunting nightmares that lurk in the depths of our thoughts.

Outside, the distant wails of sirens echo through the air, a chilling soundtrack to the silence that envelops the cabin. More lives lost, more pain inflicted. It’s a harsh reality.

I listen to her soft breaths again, each exhale a delicate reminder of her vulnerability, igniting a fierce determination within me. I want to whisk her away from this place, away from the Mating Run with its relentless violence and hopelessness. I can’t tear my eyes away from her face, bathed in the gentle glow of the moon, and I am filled with awe.

“I love you,” I murmur, more to myself than to her. “I really do.”

In these quiet moments, I listen to the distant chirping of birds and contemplate our escape. I dream of a future where it’s just Alina and me, the soundscape filled with the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle whispers carried by the wind.

“I can’t wait to leave,” I whisper, my words carrying the weight of a dream yet to be realized. “To leave everything behind, to start anew with you.”