Sweat covered Lorenzo’s face as he lay on the bed with his eyes shut and squeezed into a frown. He panted, seemingly out of breath as he struggled in his dream. Inside, he saw images, one of which struck him the most was a blade. It pierced through his chest near the heart. He held that blade and tried to pull it out but the attacker only moved further, making the blade hit his internal organs.
The blade was covered by a poisonous type of silver. Lorenzo could smell it. But how could such a weapon enter the room? This was the border of their pack, and it had a tight security. Guards were everywhere.
He stared at the person who stood close to him. That person’s face was covered by mist, purposely hiding his appearance. Then like a snake, that person uttered in a low voice, “I’m sorry.”
