CHAPTER 4: THE DREAM AND THE WARNING
1173 Words
The east wing felt… wrong.
Not empty.
Not abandoned.
Watched.
The silence wasn’t quiet.
It was listening.
Lucian walked me to the door himself.
Close enough that I could feel the heat of him. Close enough that my body kept reacting before my mind could catch up.
“Inside,” he said.
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
“Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone except me.”
I hesitated.
“No one else?” I asked.
His gaze shifted.
Not to my eyes.
To my throat.
“No one,” he repeated.
A pause.
“The pack is loyal,” he added.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“But loyalty changes when fear fades.”
Something cold slid through me.
“Some of them remember what I was,” he said quietly.
I swallowed.
“What were you?”
He smiled.
It wasn’t warm.
It wasn’t kind.
“Worse than what you’ve seen.”
Before I could ask anything else—
he turned.
And vanished.
Not walked.
Not left.
Vanished.
The hallway swallowed him like he had never been there at all.
I locked the door.
Twice.
Then I stood there for a moment—
listening.
Nothing.
But that didn’t make me feel safer.
It made me feel… alone.
The room was massive.
Too big.
Too perfect.
Black wood bedposts carved with symbols I didn’t recognize.
A fire already burning.
Windows stretching from floor to ceiling—
And beyond them—
movement.
Dark shapes weaving through the trees.
Wolves.
Watching.
My pulse picked up.
This wasn’t a guest room.
It was a display.
A place to keep something valuable.
Or something dangerous.
I didn’t change.
Didn’t move much at all.
I curled into the center of the bed—
fully dressed—
as if that could protect me.
Sleep came too fast.
Like something was pulling me under.
And the moment it did—
the world changed.
——
I stood in a field of white.
Not snow.
Flowers.
Thousands of them.
Endless.
The air was still.
Too still.
And above me—
The moon.
Huge.
Swollen.
Watching.
“You were never meant to be here.”
The voice came from everywhere.
Female.
Ancient.
Not kind.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The moon rippled.
No—
it opened.
A face pushed through its surface.
Not human.
Not wolf.
Something in between.
Something older than both.
Her eyes were hollow.
Her mouth cracked through the sky itself.
“I made him,” she said.
The words vibrated through my bones.
“And you—”
Her gaze locked onto mine.
“—will unmake him.”
My stomach dropped.
“I don’t understand.”
The moon-woman smiled.
It looked like something breaking.
“Five thousand years,” she whispered.
The flowers around me shivered.
“Do you think he waited because he loved you?”
My chest tightened.
“He doesn’t know you,” she continued.
“He knows the idea of you.”
The ground beneath my feet softened.
Shifted.
Turned red.
The white flowers—
began to bleed.
“And when the idea meets the truth—”
Her face cracked.
Light spilling through the fractures.
Blinding.
Violent.
“—he will either kneel…”
A pause.
“Or tear you apart.”
The flowers wrapped around my ankles.
Cold.
Wet.
“There is no balance with a wolf like Lucian Vale.”
My breath came faster.
“Why are you telling me this?” I demanded.
Her expression changed.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Regret.
“Because you were never meant to survive the debt,” she said.
My heart stopped.
“That debt—”
The ground split beneath me.
“—was never meant to be paid.”
The flowers tightened.
Pulling me down.
“Wake up,” she whispered suddenly.
Urgent now.
Sharp.
“Wake up before he hears you.”
My pulse spiked.
“Hears what?”
Her eyes darkened.
“Your heart choosing him.”
Everything snapped.
——
I woke with a strangled gasp.
My hands twisted in the sheets.
My body rigid.
My heart slamming so hard it hurt.
And then—
I felt it.
Not fear.
Presence.
I turned my head slowly.
Lucian stood in the corner.
Still.
Silent.
Watching.
His eyes glowed faint gold in the darkness.
“How long have you been there?” I whispered.
“Long enough.”
My breath hitched.
“Did you—”
“Everything.”
He stepped forward.
Slow.
Careful.
Like approaching something fragile.
“You dreamed of her,” he said.
Not a question.
“The moon goddess.”
“You believe me?” I asked.
His expression didn’t change.
“I have worshiped her for five thousand years,” he said.
A pause.
“I know her voice.”
Something in his tone—
wasn’t devotion.
It was… conflict.
“What did she say?” he asked.
I should have lied.
I didn’t.
“She said you don’t love me,” I said.
His body went still.
“She said you love the idea of me.”
Silence.
Heavy.
“And when that breaks…”
My voice softened.
“You’ll either worship me… or destroy me.”
His eyes closed.
For a moment—
he looked tired.
Not ancient.
Not powerful.
Just… tired.
When he opened them—
the gold was gone.
“She’s right,” he said quietly.
My chest tightened.
“There is no middle ground with me.”
A cold knot formed in my stomach.
“Which one will it be?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
Instead—
he reached into his coat.
Pulled out a folded document.
Set it on the nightstand.
“Your debt,” he said.
My breath caught.
“Gone.”
I stared at it.
Proof.
Fifty thousand dollars—
erased.
“Just like that?” I whispered.
“I bought it,” he said.
A pause.
“And then I destroyed it.”
My fingers hovered over the paper.
“You’re free,” he added.
The word echoed.
Free.
But it didn’t feel real.
Because something inside me whispered—
No, you’re not.
“You owe nothing to anyone now,” he said.
A beat.
“Except the truth.”
I looked up sharply.
“What truth?”
His gaze locked onto mine.
“The one your parents died trying to keep from you.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did they owe you, Lucian?”
Silence.
Too long.
Then—
he turned toward the door.
“Lucian.”
He stopped.
“Which will it be?” I asked again.
A long pause.
Then—
softly—
“I don’t know.”
Another beat.
“And that,” he said,
is what will destroy us both.”
The door closed.
And I sat there—
holding proof that my old life was gone—
realizing something worse had taken its place.
Because the debt hadn’t disappeared.
It had changed.
And this time—
it wasn’t money.
It was me.
- Writer
