Diana
I didn’t know what to make of the dream or what it meant.
Was it supposed to mean anything? I have dreamt of my father harming me multiple times. I mean, he did it in real life. How much more difficult of a dream did it have to be?
It was simple.
Right?
I held my wrist, till feeling the pain of the burn. But I remember what Edric said about the phantom pain. That shouldn’t have translated to real life, no?
I rubbed on the wrist, and the pain seared my brain. I had to look at it, and lo and behold, there was a wolf head…staring at me, with a slight glow in its outline.
What the hell was going on?
I peered hard and long at my wrist, hoping that like all dreams, this would melt and I would see my normal wrist again.
It didn’t.
This was as real as my bed…as real as the very air
