Chapter 12: The Blood in the Dream
1490 Words
BELLA’S POV
The ground was soaked in blood.
I didn’t know how I got in that place. One second I was floating somewhere quiet, and the next—I was standing barefoot in a clearing swallowed by endless shadows.
The trees were twisted in dark silhouettes, black against a sky cracked open by lightning. The air smelled of rain and something horrible.
Death.
Wolves clashed around me—howling, snarling, tearing into each other with maddening fury.
I could hear bones snapping, and the ground trembling cause of the forces from their fierce battle.
And there, right in the center of the chaos, was Sebastian.
His body moved like it was built for war. Every lunge, every strike, every brutal tear of his claws looked like it had been carved into his very bloodline.
He was fighting them all—every shadow that lunged from the trees, every wolf that charged through the storm.
His black fur was soaked, glistening with red. His eyes—those wild, stormy glowing eyes—were locked on the enemy with killing intent.
But I could see it... he was tiring—bleeding and outnumbered.
I felt the sudden shift in the air. Like something more horrendous was coming
My chest tightened as I tried to run to him—but my feet wouldn’t move.
He turned his head, just barely, like he had sensed me.
And in that split second, from behind him— a massive shape leapt through the shadows.
Its jaws opened wide. Fangs gleamed with sharpness.
And then—
“NO!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as the beast struck on him.
Sebastian’s body jerked violently. Blood burst from his neck. He fell to the ground with a thud that echoed through the clearing. And I ran—screaming his name into the storm, screaming like it could change the end.
“Sebastian!”
I shot up with a choked breath, my heart slamming in my chest like it was trying to claw its way out.
My skin was drenched in cold sweat.
It took a moment for the world around me to come into focus—the gentle and elegant room, the soft bed, and the faint light from the windows washing over everything like a ghost.
My throat burned and my body trembled continuously.
Just a dream…
It was just a dream.
When I scanned my eyes around, there I met those pair of icy blue eyes— staring right beside me.
I froze for a moment.
“Sebastian?"
The name left my lips shakily, almost like a question and confusion at the same time—why he was already here. They had just left yesterday morning, and he said maybe they would be there for days.
But the moment I saw and felt him beside me, my emotions cracked open. I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
I didn’t wait for him to respond.
I reached for him—hands trembling, heart still racing—and found his chest, solid and warm and real beneath my palms.
I buried myself against him without thinking, like my body already knew that this was the only place it could be safe.
His arms caught me gently, almost unsure at first, then fully wrapped around me as if he’d been waiting to do it for a long time.
The scent of him—cool, woodsy, familiar—settled into my lungs like a balm.
This rare, fragrant scent from him had me addicted to it. It was very calming and soothed my tense nerves every time I got so frustrated over losing a part of my memory.
But at this moment, the panic in my chest didn’t fully go away.
Even as he held me tighter in his arms and whispered something low near my ear, I couldn’t stop trembling.
My dream was still there, haunting me—clinging to my skin like frost that wouldn’t melt.
“I heard you screaming. Did you have a bad dream?" he asked in a low voice while gently stroking my hair.
I buried my cheek in his sturdy chest and carefully listened to his steady heartbeat.
“I saw something,” I murmured against his shirt. “I don’t know what it was… but it felt so real. I was standing in a forest… wolves were everywhere. And you—”
I stopped myself before I said too much.
Just the thought of what I saw had my stomach twisting again.
Sebastian didn’t say anything right away. He simply held me tighter, his chin resting lightly against the top of my head.
His hand moved slowly across my back, up and down, steady and comforting.
But it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t shake the uneasiness that kept gnawing at me.
“Hey,” he said softly, like he was afraid to break something fragile inside me. “I’m okay. I’m here. Whatever that dream was… it won't come true.”
His words were gentle, but they didn’t quite reach the part of me that needed them to.
Because I still felt it.
That horrible sense of something closing in. That dread. That cold silence after the scream.
I pulled back just enough to look at him—and our eyes met.
“I’m just worried if anything happens to you," I said seriously as I blinked up at him.
He looked at me intently for a few seconds, then his hand lifted to my face. His thumb gently rubbed my cheek.
“Nothing will ever happen to me, I promise you," he said, and his expression softened.
He kissed me on the forehead, and that’s when my eyes caught a dark stain spreading on the sleeve of his shirt.
He was wearing a light blue shirt, and the shade of red—the blood in it—was too sharp.
“Sebastian…” My hand moved instinctively to his arm. “You’re bleeding.”
He followed my gaze and finally seemed to remember the injury. He exhaled quietly, as if he was more worried about how I reacted than the injury itself.
“It’s nothing. Just a graze,” he said with calmness.
I shook my head quickly, retorting, “That’s not nothing.”
“What happened?” I asked right away, sitting up straighter as my panic surged again. “Why are you hurt?”
He hesitated for a second—but then, seeing I wouldn’t let it go, he answered.
“We were ambushed,” he said with a low sigh. “On our way to Raventhorn after we visited the council, a large group of rogues attacked us.”
My stomach dropped.
My mind immediately went to the worst.
“What about Dad?” I asked worriedly. “And Ronan? The others?”
“They’re fine,” he said at once, firm and certain. “Dad took a hit, but nothing serious. Ronan’s arm got nicked too. But we all made it.”
I let out an anxious breath I’d been holding for a moment. My fingers tightened around the quilt in my lap as the echo of my dream returned with full force.
It wasn’t just my mind playing tricks.
Something was happening out there. It wasn’t simple. And the fact that he came home like this—wounded, yet silent about it—made that danger feel too close for comfort.
I looked back at him, his face partially bathed by the faint glow of the morning light.
“Why didn’t you tell me the moment you got here?”
“I didn’t want you to worry. You're still recovering,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
His thumb lingered at my temple, tracing a line softly. “You’ve been through enough.”
I studied him quietly.
There were light dark circles beneath his eyes, and even in his calm demeanor, there was a tension in his shoulders he couldn’t hide.
He looked like he had just carried the world on his back and still refused to set it down.
“I hate that you’re always the one protecting everyone,” I ranted at him. I was really upset. “Who protects you?”
His gaze dipped slightly, just for a second—and then he pulled me back into his arms for the second time.
“I just don't want you to get hurt," I muttered as I leaned into him again, resting my forehead against his chest.
My fingers curled into his shirt, needing the proof that he was still here.
Still alive.
“I don’t know what that dream meant,” I whispered slowly, “but I don’t think it was just a dream.”
His arms tightened slightly, but he didn’t argue further.
I think deep down… he knew it too.
Something was coming.
And it was only a matter of time before it reached us both.
- Writer
