Dark Woods

Chapter 19

Jasmine’s POV

I sat on my bedroom floor with my back pressed against the locked door, my knees drawn up to my chest. The familiar sounds of home—Mom moving around downstairs, the distant hum of the washing machine, the tick of the old grandfather clock in the hallway—should've been comforting. Instead, they felt muffled and distant, like I was hearing them from underwater.

My hands had finally stopped shaking, but I could still feel the phantom ache in my knuckles where I'd split them on Marcus's face. The memory of his shocked, bloodied expression made my stomach turn. I'd hurt him. Really hurt him. And I barely remembered doing it.

But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was the constant ache in my chest that never went away, the physical reminder that somewhere out there, Gabriel was probably wrapped around another girl, destroying what was left of me piece by piece.

"Jasmine, sweetheart?" Mom's voice came through the door, soft with concern. "I brought you some tea. Chamomile, the way you like it."

I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears that had been threatening since I'd collapsed on my bed an hour ago. Mom had been trying periodically—gentle knocks, offers of food, worried questions that I couldn't bring myself to answer.

How could I explain that I was losing my mind? That I was seeing things, experiencing things that couldn't possibly be real? That I'd just proven myself dangerous to my own pack? That my mate was slowly killing me and didn't even know it?

"I'm okay, Mom," I called back, my voice hoarse. "Just... tired from training."

A pause. Then: "Nick called. He's coming by later to check on you."

My heart sank. Nick—one of my oldest friends—would want answers. Real answers. And while his concern would come from a place of genuine care rather than pack authority, that almost made it worse. I could handle official questioning, but disappointing someone who'd been like a brother to me for years? Someone who'd always protected me and believed in me? That felt unbearable.

A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. "Jas? It's just me. Can I come in?"

Sarah. Of course my best friend would show up. I almost smiled despite everything—Sarah had this way of appearing whenever I needed her most, even when she was dealing with her own trauma.

"I look terrible," I warned, but I was already pushing myself up from the floor, my legs stiff from sitting in the same position for so long.

"When has that ever stopped me from barging into your life?" Sarah's voice held that familiar mix of humor and fierce loyalty that had gotten us both through countless crises over the years.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open to find Sarah standing there with a bag of our favorite snacks and an expression of determined concern. My friend took one look at me—red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, split knuckles—and immediately pulled me into a fierce hug.

"Oh, honey," Sarah murmured, and the genuine care in her voice almost broke my carefully maintained composure. "Nick told me what happened. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I said automatically, but the lie felt hollow even to my own ears.

Sarah pulled back to study my face, those sharp eyes missing nothing. "Try again. And this time, remember you're talking to someone who knows what it's like to have your world turned upside down."

I sank onto my bed, suddenly exhausted. Sarah was right—if anyone would understand feeling like you were losing control, it would be her. She'd been through hell and somehow come out the other side.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Sarah. I really don't. One minute I was sparring with Marcus, and the next I was... somewhere else. It felt so real, but it couldn't have been. And I couldn't get back, couldn't control what my body was doing."

Sarah's eyes widened with concern, but she didn't interrupt, waiting for me to continue.

"I hurt him, Sarah. I really hurt him." I looked down at my bruised knuckles. "What if I can't control it? What if next time I seriously injure someone? Or worse?"

The silence stretched between us, heavy with implications neither wanted to voice. There was so much more I wanted to say—about the months of nightmares, about the bleeding and the voices and the man who called my name with such desperate anguish. About Gabriel and the mate bond and how I felt like I was dying a little more each day. But the words stuck in my throat.

"This was the first time something like this happened?" Sarah asked gently. "I mean, while you were awake?"

I hesitated, then nodded. It wasn't technically a lie—this was the first time it had happened while I was awake, the first time it had affected the real world. The nightmares were something else entirely, something I'd been dealing with for months.

"Have you been feeling... I don't know, like something's hunting you?" Sarah asked quietly. "Like you're in constant danger even when you're safe?"

The question hit way too close to home. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because that's how I felt after..." She trailed off, but I knew what she meant. After Jacob's attack. "It's like your body is always ready to fight, even when there's no threat. But what happened to you today... that felt different. More intense."

"Everything's been a lot lately," I said quietly, grateful for the understanding even though I knew it wasn't that simple. The mate bond pain, the nightmares, the visions—it was all getting worse.

"Jas." Sarah's voice was firm, cutting through my self-doubt. "You are not dangerous. You're not broken. Something happened today, something triggered this, and we're gonna figure out what it was."

"We?"

Sarah's smile was fierce and determined. "You think I'm letting you go through this alone? Please. We've been best friends since forever. Whatever this is, we'll handle it together."

For the first time in hours, I felt something loosen in my chest. Not hope, exactly, but something close to it. I wasn't completely alone. Whatever was happening to me, at least I had Sarah in my corner.

"Thank you," I whispered, meaning it more than I could express.

"Besides," Sarah added with a small grin, "Lucas would kill me if I let anything happen to you. He's weirdly protective of his girlfriend's best friend."

I managed a laugh despite everything. "How are things with you two, anyway?"

"Good. Really good." Sarah's expression softened. "He's... he gets it, you know? The nightmares, the fear. He never makes me feel weak for still being scared sometimes."

A sharp pang of jealousy hit me. That's what it was supposed to be like with a mate—understanding, protection, unconditional support. Not the constant pain and betrayal I was dealing with.

Before I could respond, the sound of a car door slamming in the driveway made us both look toward the window. My stomach dropped as I recognized the familiar rumble of Nick's truck engine.

"That'll be Nick," I said, suddenly feeling exhausted all over again. "Mom said he was coming by."

Sarah squeezed my hand. "Do you want me to stay? I can run interference if you need more time."

I considered it for a moment, then shook my head. "No, I should talk to him. He was there. He saw..." I trailed off, not wanting to relive the moment when I'd come back to myself with Marcus bleeding on the ground.

"I'll be downstairs with your mom," Sarah said, standing up. "But I'm not leaving until I know you're okay. And Jas?" She paused at the door. "Whatever happened today, whatever you're not telling me—and I know there's more—just remember that you don't have to carry it alone forever."

The knowing look in Sarah's eyes made my throat tight. My friend had always been too perceptive for her own good.

After Sarah left, I sat on my bed listening to the sounds below—Nick's familiar voice greeting Mom, the low murmur of conversation, footsteps on the stairs. When the soft knock came at my door, I took a deep breath.

"Come in."

Nick entered quietly, his usual easy smile replaced by an expression of deep concern. He looked older than his seventeen years, the weight of his Beta training evident in the careful way he assessed me.

"Hey, Jas." His voice was gentle, the same tone he'd used when we were kids and I'd scraped my knee or had a nightmare. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I nearly killed someone today," I said, aiming for dark humor but landing somewhere closer to despair.

Nick's expression softened further. He sat down in my desk chair, giving me space but staying close enough that I could see the genuine worry in his eyes.

"Marcus is fine," he said first, obviously recognizing what I needed to hear most. "Bruised ego more than anything else. He's been bragging to anyone who'll listen about how the Beta's daughter finally showed her true strength."

I let out a shaky laugh despite myself. "Trust Marcus to turn getting his ass kicked into a victory story."

"That's not what happened, and we both know it." Nick's voice grew more serious. "Jas, what you did out there... that wasn't normal sparring. You were somewhere else entirely. Your eyes were... it was like you couldn't see us at all."

The concern in his voice made my chest ache. Nick had been my protector since we were children, always stepping between me and anything that might hurt me. Now I was the thing that needed protecting against.

"I don't know what happened," I said quietly. "One minute I was fighting Marcus, the next I was... somewhere else. Somewhere dark and cold. And when I came back..." I gestured helplessly at my split knuckles.

"Have you been sleeping?" Nick asked, studying my face. "You look exhausted."

The question hit closer to home than I was prepared for. The truth was, I'd been avoiding sleep for weeks, terrified of the dreams that waited for me there. But I couldn't tell Nick that. Couldn't tell him about the bleeding, the voices, the man who called my name with such desperate anguish.

"Training's been intense," I deflected. "And with everything that's happened with Sarah..."

Nick nodded, accepting the explanation even though I could see he didn't quite believe it. "Keaton's worried. We all are. This kind of... episode... it's not normal, Jas. Even for wolves under stress."

"I know." The admission felt like defeat. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Maybe nothing's wrong with you," Nick said carefully. "Maybe something's wrong around you. Have you noticed anything strange lately? Unusual scents, sounds that don't belong?"

My blood went cold. The question was too close, too knowing. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes, when supernatural threats are nearby, sensitive wolves can react before the rest of us even know there's danger. Your reaction today... it felt like a warning. Like your instincts were screaming about something the rest of us couldn't see."

The thought that my visions might be connected to a real threat, that I might not be losing my mind after all, was both terrifying and oddly relieving. But it also meant that whatever was hunting me in my dreams might be more than just a nightmare.

"If that's true," I said slowly, "then what's coming?"

Nick's expression grew grim. "I don't know. But we're gonna find out. And Jas? Whatever it is, you won't face it alone."

The promise in his voice should've been comforting, but all I could think about was the figure in my visions—the man who called my name with such desperate anguish, who knelt beside my dying body and begged me not to leave him.

What if he was real? What if he was coming for me?

And what if I was meant to die in those woods after all?