CARDAN MONTESSORI
The wolves in my dream!
I didn’t touch my food that morning.
Not even a single bite.
I just sat there, staring at the bread and roast meat on the silver tray like they were stones someone had mistaken for breakfast.
There was something wrong.
I could feel it crawling beneath my skin like a warning that refused to be ignored.
The dream had done that.
It wasn’t just any dream—it was a nightmare that had clawed its way into my mind and left something behind. Something I couldn’t name.
I remembered the way it started—fog. Trees. A trail of ash. And then the howls.
I had turned in the dream. Turned and ran.
But they chased me. Fast. Unrelenting. The wolves.
Their eyes glowed silver, and they moved like shadows through the woods, snapping at my heels. I couldn’t se
