When Wolves Watch

Chapter Four – Nightmares

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

I lay in bed with my blanket pulled up to my chin, staring at the ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, the café replayed in my head. The way he sat across from me like he owned not just the chair but the air I breathed. The way his voice sank into my chest when he said: Maybe I only stopped what was mine from being taken too soon.

I hugged my blanket tighter. What did that even mean? What was I to him?

The house was quiet. Too quiet. My father had long gone to bed, his snores fly through the wall. The clock ticked loud, each second dragging heavier than the last.

Finally, sleep came. But it wasn’t peaceful.

It was a nightmare.

I was back on the road. The lamps flashed, the wind wailed, and the forest pressed in on me.

Then came the same.

Low. Deep. Hungry.

Glowing eyes filled the trees — not two this time, but dozens. Gold, red, silver. A hundred burning lights in the dark, staring at her, circling me.

I tried to scream, but my throat wouldn’t open. My legs wouldn’t move. I was frozen, caught like target.

One wolf stepped forward, bigger than any I had ever seen. Its fur was black as smoke, its teeth long enough to slice me in two. It roared, hot breath and the cold night.

Then another shape appeared behind it.

Him.

The billionaire.

But not dressed in his sharp suit. Not calm. Not collected. His body bent, twisted, stretching into something inhuman. Muscles swelled, feet ripped through his hands, his jaw enlarged, teeth glowing white in the dark.

Half man, half beast.

A wolf.

My heart almost stopped.

The other wolves bowed their heads to him. Not a sound. Not a roar. They feared him. They followed him. He was their king.

And his eyes — those golden eyes — locked on me.

He stepped closer, feet dragging along the ground, flashes running away where they struck stone.

“You are mine,” his voice echoed, but it wasn’t human anymore. It was deep, broken, hideous.

I slipped back. “No… no…”

But he didn’t stop. He reached out. Closer. Closer.

I woke up crying out.

My whole body shut up from the bed, soaked in sweat. My chest vomited, my throat burned, my heart thundered so loud she thought it would rip free.

“It was a dream,” I said, hugging my head. “It was just a dream…”

But then I froze.

Because something was wrong.

The room was too cold. The air is too heavy. The curtains wavered though the window was closed.

My eyes snapped to the corner.

And I saw them.

Glowing.

Two golden eyes staring at me through the thin curtain.

I breathe in, slipping backward, hitting into the nightstand. The lamp broke down, glass shattering on the floor.

The eyes didn’t move. Didn’t blink. They just watched.

My hands shook as I pushed myself back against the wall. “Go away,” I said, voice breaking down. “Please… just go…”

But no sound came in reply.

No voice. No worries.

Only the silence.

And the eyes.

By the time I found the courage to pull the curtains open, the window was empty. Just the quiet street. Just the dark forest.

But my body knew.

He had been there.

Watching.

Claiming.

And the nightmare hadn’t ended. It had only begun.