Tick. Tick. Tick. The only thing to mark the passage of time is the ticking of the clock. I continue to sit and watch Tyler’s chest rise and fall. Seconds pass. Then minutes, followed by hours. Nurses periodically enter the room to check on Tyler before leaving again. Eventually, I hear a knock on the door. Cole lets himself in and sets a large tray of food down next to me. “The nurses told me that you haven’t left the room since you arrived,” he says. “I figured you might be hungry.” “Thank you for thinking of that, but I’m not hungry,” I reply. “You need to eat,” Cole states. “I have already watched Tyler fall apart once. I don’t want to watch him fall apart again.” “What do you mean ‘again’?” I ask, confused. “When you first arrived you looked terrible. Now, you look like a ghost. When Tyler wakes up and sees you, he’s going to blame himself for hurting you even more,” Cole explains. “I look fine. I just haven’t been sleeping well,” I admit.
I wake up, but remain lying down with my eyes closed. I pull the blanket tighter around me and snuggle closer to a warm pillow. It takes a couple of moments, but I realize that the ‘pillow’ is actually Tyler. Unfortunately, I realize this after he has already patted me on the head. Blushing, I peek my head out of the blanket and glance up at him. He stares down at me with a grin. My face must be bright red with how hot it feels. I don’t usually act like this. Tyler chuckles and lifts a hand to tap his cheek with a finger. I tilt my head and scrunch my eyebrows together. Why is he tapping his cheek? After several moments Tyler must realize that I am confused about what he wants because he says, “Can I have a good morning kiss?” I freeze. Should I kiss him? I feel conflicted. On one hand, I want to kiss him, but on the other hand, I am not ready to take this relationship any further, physically, than a kiss. I don’t want him to misunderstand. A peck on the cheek shouldn’t mean
The plates that were once full of food are now empty. Tyler leans back, pulling me with him. “What are you going to do now?” he asks. “I need to call Claire and Jane to touch base about what is happening. Then I was planning to go home and pack,” I said. “I’ll help you pack,” Tyler offers. “Okay. I’d like that, but,” I warn. “...I will only let you come if the doctor discharges you.” Tyler sets his chin against my shoulder and is silent for a moment. “Okay,” he mumbles. I gently pat his head while reaching for my phone. While I enjoy being close to Tyler, it feels weird. I have spent so much time pushing him
As I turn the corner, my house comes into view. The car bumps slightly as I pull over the curb and into my driveway. I press a button on the dashboard and my garage door rattles up. I press my foot to the gas pedal and slide my car forward into the garage. The engine falls silent as the garage door rattles its way shut. Tyler and I step out of the car, doors slamming shut in tandem. Metal clinks against metal as I pull my key ring from my purse and unlock the door leading into the house. Tyler follows me through the hallways to my office. I enter the room and proceed to sit in the chair behind my desk. “What are we doing in here?” Tyler asks, sitting down on the couch in the center of the room. “I’m going to write a list of what I need to pack, so I don’t forget anything,” I reply, pulling open the top drawer to my right and rummaging around for a pen and notebook. “Oh. Are you not going to sell this house when you move in with me?” he questions. “Are you ke
Time flies by as Tyler and I pack box after box. My office items were packed first. Then we moved on to my bathroom and bedroom. My bathroom supplies are currently stacked in boxes next to the bedroom door. There are only a few piles of clothes left to put in boxes. I fold a shirt and set it in the box to my left when I hear the sound of tape being pulled from the roll. I look behind me and see Tyler taping up his box. “That’s the last of my boxes. I’m going to take the finished ones down the hall to the front door. I told Cole to send over some warriors to help move the boxes to the packhouse. They should be here soon,” Tyler informs me. “Okay,” I say. “I’m going to finish the rest of my packing and then I will join you.” I pick up another shirt, fold it, and set it in the box. I can hear Tyler walking back and forth through the house as I continue folding clothes and placing them in boxes. The doorbell rings as I am taping the last box shut. I don’t bother to rush to
“What are you going to do now?” Tyler asks me as we are finishing our meal. “I was planning on unpacking. I’m not sure what I will do after that,” I reply. “Okay. Why don’t you get started on that while I take these trays back down to the kitchen,” he offers. “The boxes with your things in them should be in your room.” “Alright,” I say. I stand up from the couch I was seated on and walk over to the door that leads to my room. I turn the handle and the door swings open. I cast a precursory glance over the room. The walls are dark blue, to match the accents of Tyler’s room. The bed had a light gray comforter. The small side couch and window curtains were also gray. The furniture was made of a dark reddish brown wood. Sitting at the end of my new bed are the boxes. One by one, I cut the tape that secures the flaps down. I check the contents of each box and sort them into piles. When I finish, there are four piles. One is bedroom items, another is bathroom
I open my eyes and find myself sitting in a flower field. Green grass and little purple wildflowers wave around me. I stare up at the blue sky and blink away the tears in my eyes. I know where this is. I know what is going to happen. “Arielle,” a female voice calls. A man and woman walk out of the trees surrounding the meadow. They are carrying picnic supplies. I start to cry harder. “Don’t come over here!” I shout at them. My warning falls on deaf ears. Just like every time this happens. My nightmare. I am forced to watch as my parents set up and enjoy the picnic lunch with me. The wolves show up right when they are supposed to. Five rogues rush towards my parents who shift to fight them. “Stop!” I yell. “Don’t fight them! Just run!” I cry as my parents don’t respond. I can’t even move to fight with them. I am helpless. My mother is killed before my eyes once more. I watch, sobbing, as my dad kills the last of the rogues only to die shortly after. “Arielle,
As days passed, Tyler and I found ourselves sleeping together every night. Some nights, I couldn’t fall asleep. Other nights, he couldn’t fall asleep. Two weeks after I moved into the pack house, Tyler suggested that I move into his room with him. I informed him that I would move in with him when I was officially declared Luna to the pack. Tyler thought that was agreeable and began to prepare for the ceremony. Throughout my stay at the pack, I gradually met more of the pack members so the ceremony was more for show than an actual introduction. Tyler set the date for a month after I moved in. That morning I woke up in Tyler’s arms, as per usual. He had joined me in my bed last night, having been unable to fall asleep on his own. I start to wiggle my way down and out of his arms. I am only able to move a couple of inches before Tyler’s arms tighten around me, forcing me to stop moving. I peer up at him and catch him grinning down at me. “This is the last time we will be
“Be careful, Kyle!” I call to my eldest as he runs out the back door of the packhouse and into the yard full of people. His younger brothers, Tate and Noah, chase after him. The three boys run through the large tent set up in the backyard as I chuckle at their antics. After defeating the Grim Ire pack and Emira, Tyler and I were finally able to settle down. A year later, Kyle was born. We waited a couple of years to let Kyle grow up before having Tate and Noah. Today, the whole pack is celebrating Kyle’s ninth birthday. “Grandma Claire is here!” Claire announces as she enters the backyard. I chuckle as the boys run over to greet her. Claire was ecstatic when Tyler and I asked her to be a grandmother to our children. She knows that she will never replace my mother, but she still treats me like a daughter. “Alright boys! Let Grandma talk to Mom for a bit. There will be plenty of time to play with her later,” I tell them as they cling to Claire’s hands, trying to pull her
I become aware of many voices around me as my consciousness slowly returns. My fingers twitch to the side and bump against something. The thing moves and then a hand grasps mine. The pleasant tingles that shoot up my arm are all the information that I need to know that the hand holding mine is Tyler’s. “She’s awake,” I hear him cry and several other voices respond. Memories of being locked up in the lab flash through my head and I quickly cast a protective barrier around myself and Tyler. Shouting erupts on the outside of the barrier and I reach up with my free hand to rub my eyes. “Arielle?” Tyler asks. I squint my eyes at the bright overhead lights. All I can make out is a dark figure standing over me. Reflexingly, my fist flies up to remove the threat. It misses the figure and is caught by a warm hand that causes tingles to fly up my arm. “Arielle, look at me,” Tyler commands. I blink several more times, trying to adjust to the lights. My eyes slide around unt
The green lights shoot around the room like little glowing rockets. They crash into my shields and fizzle out. I manage to see a green projectile heading towards the scientists despite the light show happening around me. I quickly throw up a shield around them. They will need to explain any information they have learned and then be judged for their involvement in this at a later time. “Nooo!” Emira shrieks as the green orb collides with the shield and harmlessly fizzles out. “This can’t be possible! I’ve always been stronger than the others!” “Others? What others?!” I question her. “The other lycans!” she wails. I glance at Tyler and notice that he is watching me. We share a look and he nods. “What do you mean ‘the other lycans’?” I shout back. “Did you think you were the first?” Emira lets out a vicious laugh as another round of green bullets collide with my shields. “There have been several before you. My father has been studying your kind for years. E
“So if someone is cursed to sleep, what spell would you use to counter the curse?” I ask Aunt Shanna. “Ah!” she exclaims after pausing to think. “I know just the spell.” She begins to flip through the pages. Words fly past in rapid succession, but I manage to read a few. They mean guard, bind, and dispel. After flipping through half of the book, Shanna stops and points to a page. The explanation of the spell is short and merely states that the spell will wake up the recipient. The magic word is ‘izuzzu’ which means ‘arise’ in the language of magic. This is written at the center of the magic circle and is surrounded by lines that form the shape of z’s. Shanna seems to be watching me because when I glance up at her, she is staring back at me. “How do you end a spell? You said that you end a curse by casting it twice,” I question, looking away from her penetrating stare and back to the book. “Great question!” she cries. “Spells are normally negated by casting the opp
The top half of the page is covered by an intricate design. The center of the design is a small square with a circle surrounding it. Around the circle are letters. Then several concentric rings surround the letters, each one larger than the last. Some are made up of circles connected together. Others are made of octagons and other shapes. The circles end and triangles form yet another circle around the design. In each triangle is a number and each number is different. Finally, there is one last circle that surrounds the entire design and connects the point of each triangle together. I am surprised to find that I can read the letters and numbers even though they are not written in any language that I can recognize. The numbers are in the same order as a clock and the letters at the bottom spell out ‘sleep’ over and over again. Below the design is a short explanation about the spell and how to cast it. “This is a sleep spell,” Aunt Shanna says, interrupting my thoughts.
My nightmare repeats itself over and over again and each time I am younger than before. My helplessness is driving me crazy as I am forced to watch my parents die, unable to help. I wake up for the seventh time and my room is different from how I remember it. The walls are painted purple, but I only remember them being light green. My bed is also smaller. It suits my small, five year old body better than my normal twin size bed. I decide to lie in bed and think about my options. I have tried practically all of them without success. During the third round, I pretended to be sick the whole day, forcing my parents to stay home with me in hopes of avoiding the wolves. This ultimately failed when the rogue wolves broke into our house and killed them. Then I tried going into the city, going to another country, and even visiting the top floor of a skyscraper. Nothing worked. Each time the wolves came without fail. “Good morning, Sleepyhead,” a voice says. I roll my head to t
My eyes open slowly, and I realize that I had fallen asleep on the couch. I sit up, ready to clean up my dishes from dinner, but freeze when I see the room around me. It is smaller than the bedroom in my house, but just as familiar. "Arielle, it's time for breakfast!" voice calls up the stairs to me. "Oh, no. Not this," I whisper as I slowly slide out of bed. The hardwood floor is cold against my feet as I plod down the hallway and into the bathroom. My head barely reaches halfway up the mirror, and my hunch is confirmed. I am the same height as when I was twelve, and I bet today is also my birthday. "Arielle!" The feminine voice calls again. "I'm getting done!" I yell out the open bathroom door. Clanging noises echo upstairs from the kitchen as I shut the door. I get done quickly and rush downstairs. It is hard to believe my eyes when I enter the kitchen. My mom stands in front of the stove, stirring something in a pan while my dad sits at the table reading t
Beep. Beep. Beep. A loud noise awakens me, but disappears as soon as I open my eyes. My vision remains blurry and I swear that I can see a lab room with doctors bustling about surrounding me. My limbs feel heavy and weak. Then I blink and am back in the same bed I woke up in yesterday. I sit up, rubbing my eyes. Nothing has changed when I open them again. I am still sitting in bed covered by my navy blue comforter. My desk stands opposite my bed in the right corner of the room. Both my closet door and bathroom door hang open the way that I usually leave them. I slide off my bed and wait until my feet are buried in the soft, plush carpet before standing up. Then I spot it. My keys are on my desk along with my wallet. I know for sure that I left them hanging up in the hallway as I always do before going to bed yesterday. Perhaps, the day is repeating itself the same as yesterday. If that is true, then I may be in a nightmare. Upon realizing this, my mood immediately improves.
I open my eyes, slowly becoming conscious. The soft fabric surrounding me and lack of pain have me confused. Where am I? Wasn’t I trapped in the lab? How did I get here? Looking around, the room seems familiar. I sit up on the bed and it dawns on me. I’m back home. Not the packhouse, but my old home. Why am I here though? I moved into the packhouse a while ago. I need to go talk to Tyler. He should know. I launch myself out of bed and get dressed as fast as possible. Grabbing my wallet and keys from where they lay on my desk, I practically sprint to my car. I definitely break several driving laws on my way to the packhouse. At one point, I took a turn so hard I nearly flipped my car. My tires squeal as I skid to a stop in front of the large mansion. I don’t even take the time to shut my car door before running into the building and up the stairs to Tyler’s office. The door flies open as I enter the room, accidentally using too much force. A loud gasp echoes in my ears a