I shift and go for my run.
The dragon is quietly waiting for me when I return. “No fur in the house, Forrest,” he says sternly. Oh, I am “Forrest” now? Huh. He has called me “Miss Hesketh” all week. I let my magic turn me back into my human form, I start towards the gym, and his voice stops me.
“Forrest,” he says, “I would like to talk to you about something I am concerned about. Please go into the living room.” I nod. I don’t like the expression on his face; it’s a look that makes me revert to being bratty. This is usually about the time when I get in trouble. I want nothing more than to either salute him or maybe stick both middle fingers up at him and shout fuck you.
I sigh...and they say I have poor impulse control. I manage to dawdle into the living room quietly and sit. Aragon must know about the bracelets. I find myself wanting to fidget as he prowls into the room. I watch him out of the corner of my eye; I am unwilling to look at him directly. I pick at a loose thread on my leggings.
“Forrest, when we’re at work, I have some Fae come into the house to clean—they are brownies.” Okay, where is he going with this? I had wondered who did all the cleaning. Is this when he shows his hand and maybe admits that the brownies went through my stuff? Looking for my magic? “I have been informed that your bed remains unslept-in. So my question is, where do you sleep?”
What? I stare at him. I didn’t expect him to go with that. What on earth am I going to say? Will he use it against me? Probably. I keep my mouth shut and shrug.
“I know you don’t leave the house at night.”
I study my hands. The best thing that I can do is not answer him. I can feel him looking at me. I bet his face wears a fake mask of concern. What does he care where I sleep?
“Forrest, why are you sleeping on the floor in wolf form?” I peek up at him at that. “The brownies found your fur on the floor,” he explains as I nibble my lip. “You will answer me.”
No, I bloody will not.
“I had a whole chocolate cake ordered for you...It would be a shame for the order to be cancelled.”
What! Nooooooo! No, he can’t do that, it’s so mean. I glare at him.
“Chocolate cake is for good girls who answer questions.” He raises his eyebrows. Is Aragon going to hold a chocolate cake over me as a hostage? Damn it. I haven’t had a bit of chocolate all week! I have to give him something.
I wrinkle my nose. “I get cold. I find beds strange,” I tell him honestly.
“I can understand you find sleeping in a bed strange, but it has been over three months since you shifted back—you need to adapt. No fur in the house from now on, Forrest.” I glare at him, but I shrug and think it’s okay because I will sleep outside.
“Also, no sleeping outside. You will sleep in your bed.” He leaves the room.
A single tear falls down the side of my nose, and I quickly wipe it away. This is shit. Why does it matter to him that I sleep in my wolf form? Controlling bastard.
I go into the gym, and I work out like a crazy person. When he calls me for dinner a few hours later, there’s a bag on the table. I look at it without interest. It isn’t cake-shaped.
“I bought you something that will hopefully make you feel less cold,” Aragon says from the kitchen. I peek into the bag and see something fluffy. I pull out what turns out to be fluffy pyjamas and some equally fluffy bed socks. I stare at the thoughtful gift in shock.
“Thank you,” I say, my hand stroking them; they’re so soft. The long-sleeved top and bottoms are covered in little pink unicorns, and with the socks, they should cover me completely. It was a good idea; it was also very kind. I give Aragon a small smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I haven’t slept for three nights; I have started stumbling and knocking into stuff. Running this morning, I opted to run as a wolf as my poor coordination couldn’t handle two legs.
I am so fucking grumpy. I want to bite the dragon on his bubble-bottom for making me do this. Food has started to turn my stomach, and I’ve almost stopped eating. The only thing I can force down is the traitorous chocolate cake.
Aragon hasn’t said anything to me, but I can see his frustration building. I am sure the dragon thinks I am stupid, stubborn. I haven’t told him how sleeping as a human makes me feel, and I haven’t explained about the nightmares. Perhaps if I did, he would let me be?
It’s too late now to even try and explain; in my experience, he probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. John certainly wouldn’t.
I am sitting at the table, pushing my food around the plate. My head occasionally dips down towards the table, nodding, as I force myself to stay awake. Aragon snaps and his big hand thumps down on the table; the plates jump with the impact.
“Forrest, this is getting ridiculous. You have lost weight, and you look ill. You are leaving me no other choice but to get you a sleeping potion!”
“What?” I look up at him, suddenly wide awake. Oh my God, I can’t think of anything worse—the thought of being magically put to sleep in my human form, lying in bed vulnerable.
It absolutely freaks me out.
Would the potion trap me into my nightmares? So I wouldn’t be able to wake up? I can feel the utter panic take hold of my body, and I desperately shake my head no. My eyes plead with him as I hunch in my chair, enveloped in the scent of my fear.
“What will you have me do! You will sleep tonight, Forrest. As a human in your bed, or tomorrow, I will get the potion and use it without your permission.”
I spring up from the table, my chair screeching across the floor. I narrow my eyes at him; I am shaking in fear and anger. The only good thing is that the high level of adrenaline in my body is making me feel almost normal.
“You are a monster!” I shout at him. I turn and run to my room; I dramatically throw myself onto the navy bean bag in my book nook. I wrap my arms around myself and curl into a ball and silently cry, my head almost on my knees.
I don’t want to go to sleep in this body! I don’t! But I am so tired, and I can’t risk him forcing a sleep potion on me.
Most of the time, when I’m awake, I can convince myself, force myself, to believe those bad things didn’t happen.
Except in my dreams.
In my dreams, the boxes in my mind that are stuffed full of bad memories rattle, and the lids loosen. The memories creep out across my mind and plague me.
At the hospital, when I first started getting the nightmares, Owen would hear me screaming and gently shake me awake. He would then sit up and talk to me until I felt safe. It was Owen who suggested and encouraged me to try sleeping in my wolf form, and it worked. I never had a nightmare again. But now…I should have told Aragon the truth. I stare at the photo of my mum and Grace.
I'm a silly coward. The bad dreams can’t kill me.
I shower and then put the stupid fluffy cute unicorn pyjamas on with the socks. I eye the bed with disgust. Pulling the duvet, I get in. The bed is so soft it’s like sleeping on a cloud. I hate it. I pull the cover up to my chin, close my eyes, and try to quieten my mind. I huff, chuck one of the pillows onto the floor, and thump the remaining one to flatten it. I start a simple meditation exercise, and before I have finished, I fall asleep.
* * *
I am in my silver cage in the garage. I am naked, and my skin is cold.
My mum is with me. I can’t quite believe she is here with me and that I am not alone. It has been such a long time since I have seen her beautiful face. God, I have missed her. She sits upright, leaning against the silver bars, and I can smell her skin burning.
“Mum,” I whisper urgently, “your skin is burning. Please, you need to move away from the bars.” I take her wrist and try to pull her away, but she won’t move. Mum has a doll in her arms. The toy has blonde hair, and it looks familiar. She starts giggling strangely, hugging the doll to her chest.
“You have to be quiet, Mum; please stop laughing. If Vincent hears yo—”
“If Vincent hears what?” A voice c
omes from the darkness, I start to shake in fear, my teeth chattering I cover myself the best I can with my arms.
Why am I naked?
Vincent steps forward, the yellow hose in his hand. Cold water suddenly blasts into the cage. “You are such a dirty and disgusting thing, look at the mess you have made!” he roars.
My mum continues to giggle, and I watch in growing horror as her throat slowly starts to open up, and her blood pours from the wound down her chest. The blood is bright red in the darkness. The cold water from the hose hits her, the water and blood mix, splashing red against my face. I put my hands up to her throat to try and stem the bleeding. But this causes the wound to open further, and her head rolls from side to side, her neck unable to support its weight.
The doll falls into my lap as my mum takes hold of my wrists and squeezes them. “You are…” over the pounding of the water, I can’t hear what she is saying, so I lean closer. “You are such a disappointment. Why didn’t you die like you were told? You are cursed.” My mum pushes me violently away from her.
Her throat is gaping, and she makes a horrible gurgling sound. She is no longer bleeding. Her chest stops moving, as she slumps to the side. I know she is dead. Heartbreaking sorrow grips me, and I sob. I feel like my heart is being slowly ripped out.
“Mum, Mummy,” I whimper.
The doll in my lap suddenly starts to scream, making me flinch. I realise my mistake—that it isn’t a doll, it is my baby sister, Grace. I look down at her, and with trembling fingers, I move her hair from her face. I meet her wide glassy dead eyes. Grace is dead, but she still screams...
“Forrest, Forrest, wake up. Wake up!” My eyes fly open, and I am sobbing, my throat is hurting, I’ve been screaming. My wrists are held in Aragon’s grip. I don’t understand why he is holding me so tightly until I notice the flames.
My arms are shockingly on fire. I am on fire!
The flames light up the room in hazy blue. The smell of smoke fills my nose. My once-fluffy unicorn pyjamas are burned black, and my bedcovers are smouldering. I sob harder. What have I done? I have ruined everything. Aragon waves a hand, and the small flames around us die. He scoops me up into his arms and takes me out of the room. He rushes me through the house, and we go up a flight of stairs.
“I am sorry, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to ruin the lovely things you bought for me. Nev—” I sob, “—never happened before. Just the dreams, never the flames. I am sorry…” I mumble over and over through my sobs. The shock of everything makes me cry harder, even more than remembering the horror of the nightmare.
“I need to get these off; then you can shift to heal.” Aragon carefully starts to strip me out of my damaged pyjamas. The top has melted, and pieces of the fabric are embedded in the skin of my arms. Aragon painfully picks out the material, which makes my arms bleed.
“This is the reason I was concerned about the witch magic; messing with something you don’t fully understand is dangerous. Without the potion in your system, you could have shifted. I have no idea if it will stay in your skin if you shift now.” He finishes quickly, “Shift, Forrest.”
I transform into my wolf, and I don’t want to turn back. Aragon holds my furry head in his large hands, with a firm voice and pleading silver eyes—almost with his will alone, he forces me back to human.
I return to human naked and shaking, but thanks to Aragon, I am completely healed. Aragon grabs a long-sleeved t-shirt from his bed and tugs it over my head. He folds me back into his arms. I am no longer crying, but with his stillness, I can feel how much I am shaking.
He gets into bed and pulls me with him so that I lie on top of him. I struggle. What happens if I burn up again? I’m going to end up hurting him. Aragon ignores me and firmly holds me to his chest. I belatedly realise that his torso is bare.
“I am a dragon, and I am fireproof. Be still.” I am too exhausted to fight him, and he feels warm, he smells good. I rest my cheek on his chest and close my eyes. I breathe in his smoky, musky scent. I listen to his heartbeat, and it calms me further. He cups the back of my neck in his massive palm, holding me to him. His other hand runs up and down my spine gently. My heart starts to slow, the rhythm no longer pounding in my ears. My body slowly stops shaking. I’ve never been held before, and I soak up his affection.
“Have you had bad dreams before?” Aragon asks quietly. I nod. “Is that the real reason you didn’t want to sleep in this form?” I nod again. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?” I shake my head; I really really don’t want to think about it. “Sleep, Forrest. I will watch over you.” He pulls the covers around us; I don’t think I will ever sleep again.
But in his arms I feel warm and safe. Lying on top of his hard-muscled form is the most comfortable I have ever been. My body fits on top of his like a perfect puzzle piece.
* * *
I awake more comfortable than I’ve ever been in my life. Warmth surrounds me. My face is pressed to warm skin. Aragon. I open my eyes. My eyelashes brush gently fluttering butterfly-kisses across his skin.
I’ve moved in my sleep, and I am straddling a warm naked silver torso. My legs are on either side of him; he is so broad they don’t touch the bed. One of my hands is resting on his chest, the other has gone rogue and is wrapped around his long silver hair. The hair is so soft; it’s like silk.
I reluctantly let go of his hair. I raise myself slightly on my hands, using his chest for balance. I peek up into his face. It is then that I realise his warm skin is everywhere. My eyes widen in shock—I haven’t got underwear on! I am straddling him. My breasts that were happily pressed to his chest a second ago gently scrape across him as I move and my nipples go hard. The intimacy steals my breath, and I let out a little gasp as his energy tingles along my skin.
Aragon meets my gaze. His eyes are heavy-lidded and his pupils are dilated. I panic and try to scramble off him. But his hand gently grips the back of my neck; his other hand wraps around my thigh underneath the T-shirt so close to the curve of my bare bottom, and he presses me back down onto him, keeping me in place. He slowly sits up, and leaning forward, he brushes his nose against my ear. His warm breath tickles the back of my neck, making me shiver. I let out a little moan. He breathes in my scent and lets out an appreciative growl.
The hand gripping my neck has now moved slightly and is cupping the back of my head. He tips my head back, his eyes on my lips. His thumb gently rubs my cheekbone. My tummy flips as he moves closer, his lips almost touching mine, and he pauses. My lips part, and we breathe in each other’s breath.
His eyes close, Aragon groans deep in the back of his throat, chest rumbling under my fingertips.
He sighs sadly.
“How do you feel?” Aragon rests his big palm against my forehead, his fingers smoothing back strands of my hair, thumb caressing my skin.
“I’m okay…”
Aragon pulls me back into his chest, my head tucked underneath his chin, and he holds me close like he never wants to let me go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
We are outside, and I nervously bounce on my toes. My dragon is going to teach me how to use my fire magic. After last night—I’m shitting myself. My hands are twisting around my grey unicorn jumper, and I’m gnawing on my lip.
“Nutty, what are you afraid of? Your magic won’t harm you. The fire magic is a part of you, just like your wolf magic.” Aragon is trying hard to waylay my fear. I don’t know who he is kidding. I blink up at him in wide-eyed disbelief. So he tries a different tactic. “Without proper control, you could hurt others, and we can’t have what happened last night happen again. I couldn’t bear it. So I’m going to teach you how to control your fire magic. I should have done this weeks ago. Now, as a precaution...” Aragon pulls a beautiful silver necklace from his pocket. “It's platinum.” With two fingers hooked underneath the delicate chain, Aragon dangles the necklace for my perusal. It spins and sparkles, the light reflecting from the teardrop diamond's many facets.
/> “It is beautiful,” I husk out.
“It’s Fae magic, and it will help you gain control.”
“What…How? Will it stop me from hurting people? Will it stop me from burning down your beautiful home? I’m so sorry about—”
“Forrest, I’m the one that’s at fault. I let you down. I should have respected your decisions.” Aragon pulls my hair away and places the necklace over my head. The chain is long, and the diamond settles warmly between my breasts. “I let you down. I should have realised that there was more to this sleep issue.” He kisses the top of my head. “Now close your eyes and let’s begin.” I close my eyes; I can still feel the slight imprint of his kiss. Aragon moves behind me. In his deep, low voice he says, “Relax your mind, feel your magic. The fire magic will be hotter than your wolf. The magic will feel different, pulsing. Bring it forward gently in your mind.” I feel for my magic.
The almost playful tug of my wolf magic makes me smile. Behind my wolf magic is a flame. Hot. Angry. Scary. My whole body starts to shake.
My fear makes my wolf magic rush forward, and I shift.
I huff my disappointment. Aragon smiles down at me. “Shift back and try again. I promise you can do this. Please don’t be frightened.” Disappointed, I turn back to human. “Now, close your eyes…”
* * *
I am at the Guild office, and because of my constant begging over the last few weeks, I have been allowed to help Matthew. It’s my first job! In the first few weeks, I found coming to the Hunters Guild so dull. But now that I am allowed to do something productive, the time here goes much quicker.
If given a choice, I’d be on the street kicking ass as a hunter—chasing down warrants and catching bad guys. I find the work that the hunters do for the Guild fascinating. My imagination goes a little nuts with the excitement of it—Hunter Hesketh— oh my God, how good does that sound? I repeat it back to myself a few times, nodding. I will have to think of an appropriate theme tune.
Cursed Wolf: Urban Fantasy Shifter Stand-Alone (Creatures of the otherworld Book 1) Page 17
