Chapter Eight

Dylan

I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep until I woke up. My nostrils fill with his scent the minute I can register smells and it makes me smile. He stayed. I look up at him sheepishly, it isn’t the first time I’ve woken up to him but I get this same embarrassed feeling every time I do. His pale green orbs connect with mine and I want to hide my face in his shirt like a child, however his gaze has me stuck.

I feel his arm tighten around my back and I slide closer to him, so close I have to drape my leg over his to get comfortable. It’s almost like I can feel the atmosphere shift and my heart rate speeds in accordance. I watch his eyes flicker to my lips quickly before he connects with my eyes again. I lick my lips in preparation and my eyes flutter closed as I lean slightly forward awaiting the contact. I can feel his lips are mere millimeters away from mine, what feels like live sparks flying from his mouth to my own. He lingers for just a second too long and fate decides to interrupt. His phone rings out loudly and we both audibly groan causing us to laugh. I get up and give him some privacy, deciding to cook breakfast for once.

I’m surprised that I can somewhat hear Dean’s conversation from in the kitchen and drop the pan I’m grabbing from under the counter when I hear him say my name.

He immediately stops speaking and comes around the corner with a tight smile, “I’m going to go get some orange juice from the store. I used it all the last time I was here.”

I smirk and nod knowing he just wants more privacy for his call. I assume whomever he’s talking to asked where he was and I feel a little easier knowing it couldn’t be a girl since he used my name. It isn’t until I’m putting the cinnamon rolls in the oven that I realize he said Dylan, not Rose.

I try to get my mind off of my jealous thoughts and think back on yesterday. The entire day was weird and yet so satisfying. After that stupid rodent in my bushes ran me off from Reed the previous night I thought I would feel a little short changed in the morning. He was about to kiss me and I was about to let him until that damned rabbit rustled the bushes. I thought I would be upset, but I couldn’t help but feel relieved. It dawned on me that although Reed is very attractive, he’s also my co-worker. My track record with relationships is not that great so more than likely we’d have a few months together before something would go wrong and we’d break up. Then everything would be awkward at work until one of us quit. Even though Lucifer Lydia isn’t my favorite person to work under, my patients make it worth it. I’ve worked at this hospital for two years. It’s the first and only place I applied to once I graduated from college. As tiring as the work is most days, it’s my home. I silently hope that Reed shifts his affections to someone else, someone who’s available in every way.

My mind falls to thoughts of the way my night ended and I can’t help but smile at the memory as I let my Murphy bed back down. Seeing Dean here when I walked in shocked me but the initial astonishment faded the second I saw his smile. As he checked me out I did the same and the way his tight gray undershirt clung to and defined his every ab muscle underneath the plaid button up he wore nearly made me fan myself like a Southern Belle.

The romance of the scene wasn’t lost on me. Every rose petal and candle lit made my heart swoon in girlish delight. Dinner was great and although it was light and a child could’ve made it, the fact that he went a step further than sandwiches is duly noted. All in all Dean earned some major brownie points with me and he’s obviously earned some with Dre since I assume she’s the one who got him into my place.

“So I got juice without pulp this time. I hope you don’t mind,” Dean yells from the front door, closing it with his foot.

I sit both of our plates down and turn to grab glasses for the juice. “Yeah that’s perfect. I actually got OJ with pulp last time on accident and unfortunately had to drink it anyway.”

He laughs and pours each of us a glass after putting a gallon of milk in my fridge. I guess he used all of that too.

We sit down at the table and I say a quick prayer before digging into my food. The room is silent for a while, aside from the sounds of silverware hitting plates.

“So,” Dean starts, letting the word linger in the air for a while before continuing, “you know what you were telling me last night? About your dreams?”

I nod. Not wanting to relive the moment. Although it was a wonderful evening, I shared a little more with him than I intended. I told him he keeps my nightmares away for Christ sakes! And that’s only half true.

“Well I was wondering what’s your latest dream been? What was the one that woke you up the night I came over about?”

My heart sinks when he asks. I had been hoping he would let it go, like I did that morning for him. I hear him calling my name and finally decide to answer him.

“You.”

“Okay…and what was I doing? Did I hurt you? Because you know I would never do that.”

I shake my head, “You didn’t hurt me. It doesn’t really make any sense. It…it’s hard to explain. Karter I really don’t want to talk about it.”

He scratches at the light stubble on his cheek and nods, “I understand. Is it recurring though?”

I know he’s recalling my words from last night, my dreams recur until they come true, and nod again.

His body is visibly so stiff you could break a plate on it. I wince internally knowing that me keeping this from him is the cause.

We sit once more in a silence so full it’ll burst any minute, both deep in thought.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” I whisper, giving in. If my dream is in any way going to come true I have to warn him. Even if it’s far-fetched they almost always come true, especially if they recur.

He perks up in his seat and reaches across the table for my hand. “I would never. Hit me with your best shot,” he says giving me his signature smirk and my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I try to smile back but I’m sure it comes out as a grimace. This is the moment he runs for the hills from my looney ass, I can’t bring myself to smile.

“In the dream, you aren’t…you. You’re some sort of…dog,” I start but stop to look up at him to see if he’s heading towards the front door yet. He isn’t. His eyes are a little wide in shock but just barely. If I didn’t know the valleys and peaks of his face like the back of my hand I never would’ve noticed the slight fluctuation.

He nods once, goading me forward.

“Like I said you’re a dog…but you’re huge, absolutely massive. I’ve never seen anything more majestic and beautiful. You’re surrounded by a heap of huge dogs like you, of all different colors and sizes. Initially everyone is fine, but then some of them start to collapse. They reek, like sour milk and they’re extremely ill. I don’t know what happens to them after that because the dream switches to somewhere else.” I look up at him not knowing if I should continue. He isn’t looking at me anymore. Well he is, but he has this faraway look like he’s looking through me rather than at me.

Suddenly he comes back to me and the life returns to his pale green eyes, “Where does the dream go next?”

I swallow some orange juice before I start. This part of the series of dreams is what always wakes me up. “You’re in the middle of a field. The grass in it is a little overgrown and there are Bluebonnet patches sprouting up all over the place. It looks like you’re looking for something because you keep yelping and sniffing the air. Then all of a sudden a shot rings out and you’re hit. I can hear you whining and howling. I can feel your pain. It burns, a searing hot sting that can’t be ignored, like acid. I watch you fall down to the ground and before I can get to you a dog almost as big as you jumps from out of nowhere and attacks you while you’re on the ground. I scream for him to get off of you, to let you go. I scream until my throat is raw and my lungs are sore but he won’t let go. He has you by the neck and although you’re fighting, most of your energy is being drained from the bullet wound. I try to get to you, I really do, but I’m bound to the spot I’m in. I’m forced to spectate over the sadistic torture, the pure destruction that’s happening in front of me.”

He rubs my hand comfortingly with his thumb but it’s no use. I feel the same tears I always try to fight back come to my eyes only this time I let them fall. “I keep screaming and thrashing around, trying anything possible to make my way to you or stop his attack until I hear the most sickening crack. It resonates throughout my entire body and echoes in my ears so loudly I think my ear drums will burst. It’s then that I can finally close my eyes and avoid seeing what’s happening. I know you’re dead. I didn’t see it but I felt it. The last ounce of life you have tries to hold on to the seams of this world until it’s blown away like smoke in the wind.”

I’m so deep into my story I almost don’t notice being pulled from my seat and into Dean’s lap. He cradles me and whispers soothing words into my ear until I stop crying. The safe secure feeling I get when I’m in his arms is unmatched. Neither of us dares to speak. The room is tainted with the gore of my story and it seems like any words spoken will be the wrong ones. Dean must feel it too because in a split second he has me bridal style, carrying me into the living area and onto my bed. He lays me down and then lies beside me, pulling me to his chest much like he did this morning.

I can’t tell what’s on his mind until I lay my head against his chest and hear his erratic heartbeat. He’s scared.

I scramble to sit up and look at him, grabbing his face to force him to look at me. “Hey, these dreams aren’t always accurate,” I couldn’t say if I’m lying or not but I pray it’s the latter. “I mean it’s not like you run around as a huge dog all day.” I snort and lie my head back down on his chest. The joke doesn’t slow his heart rate like I thought it would.

“Right,” he finally says in a broken whisper. My heart catches at his tone and I regret ever even saying anything.

“Right,” he repeats, stronger this time, in his normal joking manner, “And even if I did, I would be way too bad ass to get taken out like that.”

We both laugh at his anecdote but neither of the laughs are real.

Karter

For the first time since I met her, I don’t want to be around my mate. That’s not true. I want to be around her, I always do. I just shouldn’t be. If her dreams are accurate, there is a huge shit storm coming for me and my pack and the last place she needs to be is around it.

I sit in my car damn near flying back to the pack house. My knuckles are turning white I’m squeezing the steering wheel so hard. How in the hell am I supposed to explain this information to my pack? There is still a traitor in the midst and the last thing I want to do is reveal that Rose is my mate and that she has foresight. Revealing that would put her in so much danger. The traitor would go right for her if not to get back at me, to sell her to the highest bidder. Over my dead fucking body. Speaking of that, the fact that she foresaw my death is not settling well with me. I didn’t know how to react so I just chose not to. Had I gone off of my emotion I would’ve torn her entire apartment to bits. I won’t lose her when I just found her and I for damned sure won’t lose the pack that depends on me.

The minute I get to the house I run straight for my grandmother’s room. She’s sitting there knitting in her living chair as always and I sigh in relief. I turn on the radio she keeps by her door, our signal that I need to talk to her about something private. She immediately puts down her knitting and turns to me with a serene smile. My grandmother is one of the most important women in my life, only matched by Rose and my mother. She sits her wrinkled hands in her lap, crossing them over one another, and I notice she still is wearing her wedding ring. I smile knowing what she was doing before I came in.

Along with being one of the wisest people I know, my grandmother can also channel. She’s normally quiet in our world because she’s chatting away with my grandfather in the plane beyond this one. When Derek first passed on I had her channel his spirit for me so that we could talk. It took some convincing but once I brought her a piece of the shirt he was wearing the day he died she agreed. It was the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen. Her eyes rolled back until all I could see were the whites and when she spoke, Derek’s voice came out of her mouth.

I broke down and cried, begging for his forgiveness. I asked him to still remain my friend in the plane beyond and to wait for me there even though I didn’t protect him like I should have here. Imagine my surprise when my grandmother called me a pussy and told me to man up, in Derek’s playful voice but it still tripped me out. After he told me that nothing would change between us even though he was gone and that it wasn’t my fault that he died he asked me to take care of his little brother. That day I made a promise to him and to myself that I would do everything in my power to help and protect Connor. I wouldn’t fail twice.

My grandma was exhausted after channeling him and her nose even bled a little once their connection broke. I asked her if it always wore her out that much and she let me know that it only did when she was holding a spirit here or pulling one in. Only spirits that chose to stay didn’t hurt her. She informed me that Derek wanted to leave and that as long as I held onto that piece of cloth he would remain here. As much as I didn’t want to, I burned the cloth that same day. Even though it would’ve been cool to talk to D like old times, I couldn’t hold him here against his will and I couldn’t hurt my grandmother for my own selfish gain.

“Okay gran so here’s the thing,” I start, pulling up a chair to sit in front of her.

“Your mate has the gift of foresight and she’s seen terrible danger pertaining to you and the pack,” she interrupts, smoothing her silver hair back into the bun she styles it into religiously.

My mouth drops open, “Well if I didn’t know any better I’d say you have it also.”

She laughs, it soon turns into a cough causing her to stop and drink some water. “I don’t have foresight but I do have a very nosey husband who likes to creep on his grandson’s personal life. She also has no idea what she is, what we are, correct?”

I nod. She already knows everything thanks to Grandpa Axton and his super sleuthing.

“Right so why are you here?”

“I want to know what to do about her visions. I want to keep the pack safe and I…I don’t want to die.”

“Do not worry about the pack or yourself, you will be safe. Your father is hard at work finding the traitor. And as far as Dylan goes your grandfather thinks you should tell her everything, mate her, and unlock her wolf. Her foresight is obviously connected primarily to her wolf since she can only see us in our animal form.”

“I just don’t want her to think I’m crazy grandma. She was raised as a human. She has no idea…monsters like us exist.”

“Watch your mouth Karter Dean. We are not monsters. We’re mother earth’s protectors, knighted by the Moon Goddess herself. If only we could stop fighting amongst ourselves and unite as one species we could do our duty.”

“I’m sorry gran you’re right. What do you suggest I do about it?”

“Let things play out naturally. The Goddess paired the two of you together for a reason. Maybe being with Dylan is meant to teach you patience. Goddess knows you could use a dose or two,” she jokes, her smile making her eyes twinkle.

“Right,” I laugh and rub my hands on the legs of my shorts.

“Stop worrying Karter. It will work out as it should. Everything happens for a reason,” gran says, holding my face in her fragile hand.

I smile at her words, “Dylan says that.”

She smiles back at me and pats my face softly, “See, listen to the woman. She’s already teaching you things.”

I grin and thank her as I leave the room and turn the stereo off.

Talks with her always ease my mind and this time is no different. As much as I want to worry about things, nothing is in my control. All I can do is keep investigating and find out who tried to kill me while doing my best to keep them away from Rose. If I can do that, I’ll feel a hell of a lot better and can finally get on with my life.

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A/N

So can I just say how blown away I am by the amount of reads on this story right now? Like WOW! 85! That’s almost as many as I have on my short story Our Little Secret (shameless plug) and it’s been on Wattpad for like a year! You guys rock my freaking socks off! I’m so happy with the number of reads and the fact that I have a new follower RED_Directioner26 (S/O to you p.s. I fancy myself a bit of 1D also XD) however I’m wondering if there is more that I can be doing to spread the word about Awake!

I have a ton of reads and I’m happy about it but I have hardly any votes and no comments at all :( I was talking it over with my mom and she was saying that maybe I should start putting EUGs (Early Update Goals) on my stories like other authors do. I hate when authors do that, personally, so I don’t want to start it on my own stories. However, those are the books that tend to get out there and have loads of reads, comments, and votes. I just don’t want to seem vote or follower thirsty because I’m not. I’d just like to know that my nights of staying up when my body wants to shut down and sleep aren’t in vain if that makes any sense.

Anywho, I hope you all liked the chapter! I’m not particularly crazy about it but it is what it is. At this point I’m still feeling the story out, it being my 1st in this genre and all.

Well I think this A/N has been long enough! If I can get at least one new follower, one vote and one comment I’d probably cry or squeal or both lol

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