“Leah? It has been two years since you completed the online degree, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.” In Social Anthropology, for all the good it had done.
“Have you considered going out to work?” Jane fiddled with her dark glasses, staring at her over them. “There is so much opportunity in London—you can choose something to suit your needs.” She paused, looking at her notes as if she might locate the answer to Leah’s problems among her scribbles. “I know that since leaving school, you have not been in a social environment … but would you be interested in trying it?”
Despite being somewhat introvert, she had been pretty popular at her London school. She stood a head above the other girls in her class, and with her black hair and hazel eyes attracted a fair amount of attention from the boys. She shared lingering kisses behind the toilets before any of her girlfriends and had even started to date a hot senior. And then the accident happened. Maybe her psychologist was right, and she could manage a part-time job, a few hours a week. It would be a start … Now the liquid inside the ornament rippled, and she could not look away. You are not alone. Why the hell hadn’t she asked for it to be removed before the session?
Jane wrote in the notebook. When she looked up, there was a smile fixed to her face, a straight line that never wavered during the sessions. “You really are making wonderful progress,” she insisted. She might say different if she knew about the dreams, which started three years ago. Leah had told nobody about those visions of strange, beautiful lands that filled her with longing, and the tall dark-skinned man with fiery honey-colored eyes who awakened dormant desires. “The death of your parents was understandably a huge ordeal, but you have coped remarkably well. One day you will be normal again.”
Being normal. A reward for good behavior, which Jane probably dangled in front of every other patient who entered this room. For Leah, it was a hope she had reached out to for over ten years.
Would she ever feel as if she belonged?
Leah parked in front of her two-story house, giving the garden a satisfied glance as she got out of her car. Soon roses would bloom; something to look at through the window as she read in the living room. She walked through the short cobbled pathway that cut across the middle of the garden and then paused, key in hand. Barring today’s incident in Jane’s office, it was a week since she communicated with the imaginary voice, her longest withdrawal yet. She swapped baths for showers years ago after realizing that running liquid caused little agitation and these days downed glasses of water before temptation overcame her. But still, a need to hear the voice was constantly there, and right now was so strong that her hands trembled as she unlocked the door. She would beat the addiction because that was all this was. I can do it.
“Leah!”
Dan, her neighbor, leaned over the low wall separating their gardens, dressed in black jeans and a gray tee shirt that hugged those broad shoulders. His blond hair had been cut recently, its short length suiting his angular face. “Hello,” she managed, her tone soft. Twirling a strand of hair around her fingers, she wished she had left it down instead of pulling it into a tight ponytail.
His smile was wide. “Been to the hairdresser?”
“No.” Just to my therapist.
“I could swear there’s a tinge of blue in your hair … must be the light?” More like a conversation starter. “Anyway, did you give any more thought to that dinner?”
He moved to the neighborhood a month ago and had immediately made his interest in her obvious. Her psychologist was right—she would never be ready but needed to take steps toward a normal life. She fought the anxiety beating a trail around the insides of her stomach. “How about in a couple of days?”
His grin widened. “Perfect. I’ll be in touch.” He paused. “About your number—”
The idea of him unexpectedly calling terrified her. What the hell would she talk to him about? “I haven’t managed to get my mobile fixed.” It would be just her rotten luck if her phone rang now. Not that there was much chance it would, because most of the calls she received were wrong numbers or from salespeople.
“Well, you have my number, so give me a shout when it’s sorted.”
“Sure.” Clueless about what else to say in such a situation, she gave him a nervous smile before entering her home, shutting the door and closing off the world outside. The house, with three en-suite bedrooms and a living area and large study downstairs, was too big for a single person; but as she spent a lot of time indoors, she appreciated the space. The small entrance porch led straight into the spacious living room, its walls painted in the lightest shade of blue—as with the rest of the rooms, she had selected a calming color. She dropped her bag on the black L-sofa, which was placed underneath the large window looking out over the garden; pausing when she caught her reflection in the glass. She was always well turned out when she stepped outside—easy when one’s parents left a more than generous trust fund—and since her school days was aware of her appeal to the opposite sex. But would Dan be as keen to date her if he knew she had suffered a breakdown after her parents’ deaths and was still recovering from the resulting trauma and phobias? And what about the obsession with speaking to water and those lucid dreams where a striking man with honey-colored eyes touched her in ways nobody else had?
Heat burned in her core at the thought of him. But he was not real whereas Dan was. A few months ago, she decided it was time to start dating, but it was easier said than done. With her addiction, phobias and God knew what else, any man would think of her as a freak—if her personal problems were not enough of a downer, at the age of twenty four she was still a virgin. How would being touched by Dan feel? Could she connect with him as she did with the stranger in the dreams?
She entered her pristine kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, pouring a glass. She drank quickly, emptying the glass before she was tempted to release her thoughts into it, and then returned to the living area. Distraction … she needed distraction. There were plenty of unread books in the built-in bookcase, but she had to update the collection with materials other than science fiction novels, works on metaphysics or essays explaining the mysteries of the cosmos. After all, hadn’t Jane suggested last week that Leah’s childhood fascination with such subjects might have contributed to her symptoms?
I will be normal.
She pulled out her yoga mat and placed it on the wood flooring before sitting on it cross legged to meditate. Her attention shifted to the man who visited her dreams, and when she blocked him out, the agony of her parents’ sudden death crawled toward her. When she opened her eyes, her mind was more troubled than before she sat. She needed someone to understand her.
Don’t do it.
She was pulled back to the kitchen, where she filled a glass vase with water and then placed it on the counter. Resist. “I’m going out with Dan.” She stared at the vessel, voice low. “I want a man to touch me, be close.” Sex would be a big step, but the longer she left it, the more difficult it would be. “After the first time, it might be easy?” The liquid moved, with more force than usual—much more force!—slopping out over the counter. She flinched at the violence erupting from the water. What was happening? Suddenly the vase shook, shattering into fragments. She let out a cry, stepping away in panic even as she applied logic to the scene in front of her.
This was part of her sickness, it had to be.
She left the broken pieces of glass lying on the counter and ignored the pool of water spreading across the floor, no trace of sound or abnormal movement in it anymore. Sitting on a chair, she leaned her elbows on the dining table, head in her hands. Vases did not shake of their own accord and smash, not in reality, anyway. No matter how she rationalized it, the incident made no sense.
Am I going mad?
Enough of talking to water and imagining voices. She had to stop this sickness before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWO - HELA
* * *
MY WORLD.
<
br /> Leah lay next to the lake, surrounded by the peace she only ever found in this paradise, the universe of her dreams. Dressed in a loose white dress, she stretched out her body as she smiled at the sky, which could not decide whether it would be blue or purple. The warm sand was comfortable underneath her, its usual rose hue so dark a shade that today it might be maroon. When she clapped her hands, a glow of energy emanated from between them, and a cloud responded, shifting to the shape of a dancer for her entertainment. The red moon suspended above was so large it should have unnerved her, but instead, excitement rushed through her at the otherworldly sight. The lake’s green color was becoming boring, though. Orange? Small flashes of orange shot through the water as it morphed to her chosen hue. Much better. The effect lasted a few seconds before it transformed back to green, but it was enough to delight. Ripples now appeared on the surface of the lake, making her insides clench in anticipation.
He was coming.
Her warrior Anza rose from the lake, chest bare and dark skin shimmering as water slid from his muscled frame. His black hair, which fell just past his shoulders, was wet and smoothed against his face. His body? A sculptured masterpiece, those muscles rippling as he walked toward her.
“You have been playing with nature again?” The master commander’s tone was deep. “You are the only one of your bloodline to come into such high powers, yet you do not respect them.” His attempt to be stern was futile, the humorous light of his eyes preventing her from taking him seriously. “This energy … it is a gift. Why toil to develop it and then waste it on such games?”
“You swam here only to reprimand me?” She smiled up at his handsome features. Unlike her, her love was not born with special gifts, but worked hard to evolve. He trained with the greatest masters, strengthening his warrior skills as he learned to use the power of the cosmos to cultivate his abilities of intuition and healing. As a student who meditated every day and practiced endless chants with diligence, he did not understand why she treated her own powers so lightly. “Anza. I also work to improve my talents”—and did relish the opportunity to show them off—“and a little fun does not hurt. Rather, it helps strengthen the energy.”
He nodded. “You must continue to strengthen these skills, my love. The Great Prophecy must come true.” She did not desire to spend their time together discussing the Great Prophecy, according to which she would one day gain abilities greater than any their kind had known. Cast at her birth, the prophecy was often a burden, with someone or the other taking it upon themselves to remind her of her duties. What else had been foretold? It is during times of utmost pressure that the greatest powers come to be. She only wanted to be with Anza and play in nature; she would leave the utmost pressure to those who craved it. “If the prediction comes true and the Great Evil befalls our people, you have to be ready.”
“Let us not waste these moments on such heavy talk, my love,” she said before he turned serious. When she shifted closer, that honey-colored gaze filled with hot fire and need. She lowered her voice. “We can use our time in other ways.” He pulled her close, crushing her mouth with his until she melted against him. As he lay her on the sand, the air on her skin was uncomfortably warm, and she clicked her fingers to guide the temperature down. Perfect. He gave a small grunt of protest at her action before taking her lips again. Her warrior fretted over frivolous matters when all that mattered was being in his arms. She kissed him with all her passion, whimpering as his hand moved between them …
They were both together, and nothing would ever be more important.
It was early afternoon, but Leah was hidden under her duvet, exhausted from the lack of sleep.
The dreams of that strange world had continued through the night, and each time she awoke, it was difficult to discern between fantasy and reality. She now blinked, concentrating on being in her spacious bedroom, but the crème walls and customized wood furniture felt distant. When she closed her eyes again, that illusion surrounded her, the warrior tempting her.
Using all her willpower, she dragged herself out of bed and to the bathroom. Today, being in the shower did not cause the usual anxiety so she took her time, enjoying the water as it tingled on her skin. Relaxed, her mind returned to the visions. She had the ability to affect nature in earlier dreams, but a Great Prophecy or Great Evil had never been mentioned. Perhaps such doom and gloom had been the subject of a science fiction story she read? Back in her bedroom, she wrapped a black silk dressing gown around herself before counting the pills on her bedside table. How had she already exhausted her quota for this week? Her psychiatrist recommended the medicine a few months ago, and she depended on them to suppress the voices and dreams that slowed her recovery. Last night’s dreams had been the most lucid so far and even now, the urge to return to that world was strong.
That place is not real.
She took a pill from the packet and then hesitated. She had consumed more than her psychiatrist’s recommendation before, but the last time she ran out of medication and had to wait for the prescription, the few days without a dose were hell. But today, she was desperate for a boost. She swallowed the pill and then placed the rest of the medicine in the pocket of her dressing gown before grabbing a book from the table and returning to bed. A fantasy novel, but she would only read a few pages and then grab something to eat. As she entered the world of the story, a planet beyond Earth, her own problems melted away. She devoured chapters, longing for this fictional universe full of strange beings and no restrictions, where even she might belong …
Her phone rang, confusing her, and it took a moment to come back to the bedroom. She swore under her breath as she left the imaginary world behind and stood to reach for her mobile. It was Campbell, her late father’s best friend. As a trustee of the trust fund, he was in charge of her financial affairs but only until she turned twenty five. The looming responsibility made her sick.
“Leah? Just to remind you that you need to pick up your check.” Generous checks and a non-existent social life meant she never spent her funds before another installment was due.
“Give me a couple of days.”
After her parents’ death, Leah had stayed with Campbell and his wife Susan for a few years, barely speaking a word and shutting herself away in a bedroom until she was old enough to return here, the house where she lived before that accident. She never returned to school, but Campbell insisted she complete her higher education with a home tutor, later enrolling her on a distance learning course to study a degree.
“That would be perfect, Leah. This month’s donations have already gone out to the kids’ charities. I’ll have the statements ready with the check.” He paused. “Susan and I are going to Spain this month, just for a weekend. As you’re feeling better these days, would you like to come?”
It was not the first time Campbell had invited her to join them on a trip. “It’s kind of you to invite me, but you know what Jane said.”
“I know your therapist says you’re still suffering from hodophobia”—which made even small amounts of travel difficult—“And to be honest, fear of traveling is understandable considering what happened to your parents … but it doesn’t mean you have to shut yourself away. And as for your so-called agoraphobia, you’ve always been a bit of an introvert, don’t you think?” He did not get it. Nobody else could, not when it was so easy for them. Just getting into the car and driving to her therapist or Campbell’s office caused her anxiety.
“Please thank Susan for the offer.” She kept her voice light. “But I need to make it outside the city first.” That one time when she decided to drive out of London—feeling brave after a positive therapy session—she was on the verge of throwing up when she reached the outskirts of the city and returned without achieving the goal. If she ever managed that particular journey, she would consider tackling a different country.
For now, her focus had to be on recovery and being normal. And the first step was a date with Dan. He was the last person she would tell
about the dreams and those conversations with an imaginary voice, but she could not hide the phobias. Would he understand those, at least? He seemed a considerate man and was pretty interested in her, so it might work out if she gave him a chance. She could go to restaurants and bars with him, visit the places she had seen on the television. Maybe they would even go outside London … and travel abroad? An emotion bubbled up inside, something resembling hope. If she overcame her fears, nothing would stop her from having the life she dreamed of …
Happiness had barely settled in her chest when dread disrupted it. She froze, confusion invading her senses. Was there someone in her house? Impossible. She had arranged for the highest standard of security alarm system and double-checked the locks every night. It had to be her imagination again. Yet, she could not shake off the sensation she was not alone. For God’s sake, get it together. There was nobody else here, and she would prove it by facing up to her fears and taking control back from her mind, as Jane encouraged. She left the bedroom and paused at the landing. Was there someone downstairs? She toyed with the idea of phoning Campbell, but if he arrived to find nobody else here, it would only indicate she had developed a new phobia.
As she descended the stairs, green and blue lights flashed before her. She hesitated again, drawing a long breath before continuing. Hazy images blurred her vision … the red moon, lakes, flowers of countless colors that released glitter from their petals … the warrior. She held onto the banister, steadying herself. Too many pills? Resisting the impulse to run upstairs and lock herself inside the bedroom, she continued, nerves pulsing through every inch of her. In the living room? Yes, there was someone there. She inhaled deep, trying to quell the nausea that rushed around her stomach. I can do this.
The Wolf's Bride (Shifters Unleashed Book 1) Page 16
