The first time, she had woken shaken, the world was churning. Emory had thought she would never see these woods and him again.
The second time, she wished to never wake up. It was an intoxication, an addiction of being high and far away from her reality, and she desired it. Needed it.
But as the days blurred to months, the months to years, he had never left her and had always called her back. Back to the earthy reprieve—and to him. It was here, she felt safe. It was here, where fantasy took over.
“Emory.”
Shivers ran up her spine, curdling her nerves into mush. Exhaling, she turned slowly and took him in. They had to be around the same age, his long blonde hair tied back, his strong angular face hiding secrets and temptations tucked within the corners of his mouth. Her gaze roamed, uncontrolled and blatant, working from his jawline to the crook of his shoulder. His loose shirt clinging to the edges and valleys of his muscles. He radiated, and it was all for her.
“Emory.”
He strode toward her—everything else faded away. Dream, reality, she didn’t care about the definition. Her feet carried her, not faltering as she closed the space between them. His strong hands cupped her face gently, securely, the warmth from his fingertips flushing her skin. Resting his forehead against hers, she closed her eyelids, breathing in the scent of fresh rain and mint.
“Em.”
No, don’t say it. Please. Do not say it.
“He is coming for me. For us both.”
Eye lids fluttering open, Emory took in his ice blue eyes. A snap of a twig sliced through the woods, and a nervous tittering rippled around them. He froze, and she could practically taste the tension rolling off him.
“Memphis,” Emory whispered.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
She was thrown backward, and the world was devoured in flame. The fire towered above her, eating away at the trees, the lush leaves. She could taste the ash, clogging her throat, blinding her, tickling her skin like she was standing in the eye of the storm.
Rolling, she tried to stand, to scream, to escape the turned nightmare. Golden eyes flashed through the haze.
“Run.”
Memphis’s voice hooked into her mind, her heart, the very marrow of her bones. Teeth flashed as his screams grew desperate and terrified around her.
“Em, run!”
She wheezed through the smoke, her lungs searing, her vision spinning. The ground shook behind her, and she pumped her arms faster. She flung herself forward until gravity left her. Her teeth sank into embers and dirt. Spitting and coughing, her flesh burned, but she tried to stand, to keep going. Sharp claws ripped through her pants, shredding skin and muscle. Bile clawed up her throat, as she was dragged backward, screaming.
Being flipped on her back, she expected to see a monster. Instead, a man smiled down, and the flames crackled hungrily around them, the scenes dancing in her eyes.
His golden eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, like a lover’s embrace. He whispered, “Emory.” From his knuckles, smooth inky talons ripped free. They stroked her legs and sides, trailing along her shoulders. “Come back to me.”
Her scream lodged in her throat, as the man’s hand shifted to a giant paw before her eyes. Locking her eyes with golden ones, a wolf hovered over her now, thick golden fur shimmering like molten. Growling, its muzzle pulled back revealing glistening teeth. Snapping its teeth, Emory screamed as the world tipped and disappeared.
***
Her body was soaked in sweat, and her skin prickled as she tried to still her racing heart. Her room took shape under the blanket of the night, thunder rolling ominously. Her tongue felt thick and swollen, as she got her bearings. Her legs were tangled in her comforter, her hair sticky and slick.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Looking to the walls surrounding her, lightning flashed, illuminating everything before plunging them again in the darkness. Her pile of laundry, assortment of books, her mish-mashed dresser. No trees. No thicket of woods. No two men. One, a mystery, a gravitating lull that pulled at her. The other, a killer. A monster.
She shuddered, frowning as she pulled her sheets closer around her. It was just a dream. One she had in variations since she was a teenager. Always ending the same. Always in blood. In fire and ash.
Groaning, she pulled the sheets over her head, lying back down. Thunder rolled, growing in tempo, and Emory squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she could get more sleep, and thanking the forces in the universe that she was off tomorrow. She drifted, piercing eyes and soft murmurs chasing at her heels, trying to lead her back, and she allowed them to.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Memphis
Six Years Prior
Memphis just stared at the empty space where both of his best friends had been. The snow, the ice, and the howls seemed a world away as his hands trembled and tears streaked down his skin. The shock of what Memphis had done pierced through his heart. He had wiped Emory’s memory; he had felt her entire sense of self disappear. Pacing, bile seared his throat, and the aches in his bones and bruised and bloodied skin roared in pain, but he couldn’t stand still.
What had he done?
Mind reeling, the air around him churned, as if being sucked in on itself, only to expand, blasting energy backward, as Brokk reappeared, swaying.
Memphis surged, spittle flying from his mouth as he demanded answers. “Is she safe? Brokk?!”
“She’s safe.” He looked down at his shaking hands.
Memphis swore, looking at Brokk as he swayed, and relief flooded through him. He closed the space in between them in two seconds, his muscles constricting as his fist flew,
