tagNonHumanBad Dreams Ch. 06

Bad Dreams Ch. 06


I will apologize for the long wait. I have a list of excuses, but I don't want your pity. Life can be difficult. I hope enjoy the story! This chapter has been self-edited, so go easy on me. I tried my best, but I tend to miss things. Do comment! Good or bad, I want to hear it!



"What effects?" Nana's face was an indecipherable mask, which I found terrifying. "What effects?" I demanded.

Trent opened his mouth to say something but Nana spoke first. "If you are not true soul mates nothing will happen. The cookie is a secret recipe I use for detecting true mates among wolves and humans. Of course, if you are not human there will be no effect either way. I am quite perplexed by your aura; it does not read like any human or wolf I've ever encountered. If the cookie affects you, then we'll know for sure that you are human, or at least human enough to vulnerable to magic, and Trent's true mate. Certainly this cookie test is vague, but if I knew what usually aura readings are all the test that is ever needed."

Trent nodded along with her words, although with his raised eyebrows, he appeared not to know what she was going to say.

"That's interesting, but I want to know how the cookie will tell us if I'm his true mate. How do you know whether or not that I have reacted?"

"That is a question I cannot answer..." Nana began. Why is she evading my question? Oh, no! What if I end up doing something crazy, like dry-humping a tree? Or trying to fly? Or trying to fly off of four story building?

"Cannot, or will not?" Nana's face had never changed since the beginning of this conversation. Eerie.

"I cannot predict the effects because the magic never works the same. Even if I were to recall couples of whom the magic has effected in the past, the way the magic affects you will be totally different. As each individual is unique, so is every reaction. Your aura is something of a mystery; I do not even know which direction to begin looking in."

I probably am going to end up doing something crazy. If I get home and stay there maybe I won't embarrass myself.

"I'm feeling sick. Take me home now, please," I announced loudly while staring directly into

Trent's eyes, in an attempt to politely escape this ladies home. As if on cue, the moment I uttered those words they became true. My fingers began to tingle as if they had been shocked, and the nausea which had gradually worn away throughout this conversation came crashing back to me.

Nana's stare was impenetrable as she studied me. Trent looked worried. "Shit! Are you okay?"

"I'm nauseas." To lesson to its grip, I leaned over the edge of Nana's dainty green couch with my arms clutching my stomach feeling much too distracted by the persistent ache.

I felt his heat through the thin fabric of my shirt before Trent placed his large hand on my back. His touch was like magic; with his hand, he chased the nausea away.

"Whoa," I sat back up into his arm that had curled its way around my waist. I didn't want Trent to touch me but honestly to be free of this ache I'd let anyone, with the exception of maybe a serial killer, touch me. I glanced back to him only to be met by his version of the indecipherable mask.

"I know how you feel." I could feel his words vibrate off his chest.

Nana cleared her throat loudly to grab out attention and then smiled warmly at us. Had I been staring? "I assume you the two of you haven't ate much before you came here. I had not expected the magic to take hold quite that fast."

This is the magic? I resisted the urge to ask that stupid question, until I found a better one.

"When will it wear off?" I asked. Soon, I hope.

Trent spoke up, "It depends on the concentration of her cookies." His voice was deeper than it had been, or maybe it was just the feel of him vibrating against me that changed my perception.

"This batch was highly concentrated. I hadn't expected you to visit today; I'm having visitors later- that's who they are for- and you really can't be here when they arrive." Nana spoke looking directly at Trent with a grave expression, before genuinely smiling at me. "I cannot guess the time it takes to wear off either. I've never seen it last for longer than two days."

"Two days?!"

They both said yes at the same time. Creepy. That's not the word for it, but creepy will do. Trent obviously revered this woman.

"It looks like you've found your mate!"

"What exactly does that mean," I demanded, perhaps a bit too rudely. However, Nana's mood remained unchanged.

A faint ringing that sounded much like a cowbell cued Nana to her feet. Then as she begin to hastily return our tea mugs to the tray she said "Dear, I know it's a lot to take in over such a short period of time." Then she scolded Trent with a wagging finger, "I'm sure you're handling all wrong." Returning back to me she said, "He's never been one with words, but I'm short on time today and you two are definitely not safe here. Call me, if you have any questions dear. Trent you'll be hearing from me soon, but not now. You must go! You really must go!"


On the ride back to my house Trent held my hand to keep the nausea resurfacing; it seemed that we'd be stuck together until the effects of the magical cookie to wear off. This must be a joke.

"What's funny?"

"Can't you read my mind?"

"Just because I can does not mean that I do," Trent said. "Even with invasive magic, there are ways to be polite."

"So I'm your mate?" I asked, hoping he would deny it.

"Yeah," he said, as he gave the widest most genuine smile I've seen since I met him. Even the lascivious smile he had in my dreams could not rival this; it was both breathtaking and infuriating.

"Explain." If he explained his logic, maybe I could refute this entire mess. Surely this is a mistake. It must be.

He inhaled audibly. Then suddenly, I could taste his anxiety. It had an unpleasantly acerbic taste and it surrounded him like an inivible hidden mist. What the hell?

"I can taste your feelings," I said aloud before thinking about whether I should have said anything at all about it. Could he use it against me, and say it's just another reason why we should be together?

"You can sense me?" he asked. His eyes never moved off the road, but he was smiling widely right now. The happiness added a sweet aftertaste to his anxiety. "My wolf chose you before I ever met you. It told me you were alive, and instinctively how to find you."

"Just like that. But how?"

"Dreams," he said. I froze. Did he know about mine? "I'm sure you had them. I shared them with you. I didn't mean to scare you and I tried to call you. I got your number from... "

"You lost me week's worth of perfectly good sleep! If you knew you were scaring me, why didn't you stop?!"

"Adalia, I had as much control over the dreams as you did. You had no idea what it meant, but werewolf mates are sacred and..."


The wooden door splintered ahead with the force of Luriat's fury. Muttering an assortment of curses under his breath, he stalked through the house destroying doors and other obstacles. He found Nana in her kitchen, guarding her tea set which had nearly fell off of the shelf that had shook with Luriat's forced entry.

"Stop it," Nana voice, became infused with anger that took a physical form.

She carefully set down all of the items of her tea set on the counter with her back turned him. Although her body was frail, she could protect herself without ever touching any of her enemies.

Of course, Luriat knows this, but rage destroys logic among even the most level-headed. He clinched his fists and inhaled air deeply. Then he exhaled that air along with a fraction of his rage.

"They were here today, damn it. I can smell them. Trent and one other? Where are they? Where is Trent?"

"You're angry for the wrong reasons, alpha wolf. Should I even call you alpha anymore? Many of your followers wonder the same thing?"

"Trent could never be alpha!" Luriat stomped down childishly, with enough force to damage reinforced concrete beneath the carpeting.

"Control your temper! Are your really expecting my help while I stand by here watching you destroy my home? Get out of my house!"

"I'll be seeing you again."

"I hope not," Nana replied, but Trent was already out of hearing range.


"We're here," Trent announced.

"I know," I stated, annoyed.

"Stay and talk," Trent pleaded, putting his bottom lip out. Before now, I thought he was too masculine to appear even remotely cute but somehow he managed and I couldn't resist.

"Fine. Talk," I demanded.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," I responded instantaneously, like a reflex.

"Liar." Strangely, there was no emotion in his voice as he said this. No accusation, frustration or anger. Knowing what he felt made me feel safer. If he became angry, I could try to talk him down or run away.

I haven't tasted a feeling from him after told him I could. Does the power come and go? Can he read me now?

"You asked me to stay and talk. What do you want to talk about? Otherwise, I'm leaving because I have nothing to say to you right now. Besides, I thought you couldn't taste how I feel."

"I cannot. However, I do know a lie when I hear one being so blatantly told." Trent moved his body quickly enough that I missed it even while staring at him. We had been hand in hand the entire ride home, but Trent twisted his body around to place his other hand in my cheek and force me to look in those beautiful golden eyes.

His stare had a physical force to it; all of my logic had almost immediately fled. I was remembering the feel of him on my lips and thinking of other places I would like to feel those lips. Looking in his eyes, it was hard to believe that I wanted nothing to do with him. Could life with him really be so bad? Maybe if I got to know him more...

"Tell me what you are thinking," he stated, interrupting my thoughts.

"What does being mates mean?"

His stare never lost an ounce of intensity as he told me. "It's something sacred among werewolves. It's like human marriage, except the only rings are the magic that binds us."

Magic? Of course, magic. I'm talking to a werewolf. What other explanation would make any sense?

"What type of magic?" Nothing on this earth could be worse than the dreams.

"When love is involved, it's powerful magic."

"What about hate?"

"Same thing. They are synonymous. A hate powerful enough to rival love resulted from the lost of love. It's not always romantic love that makes for powerful magic, but for mates it has to be romantic."

Trent's unfaltering gaze had me squirming under his scrutiny, so I tried to look away. His hand, which had never left my cheek, held me gently in place. "The magic that binds us as mates can cause insanity if we resist."

"So you are trying to scare me into being your mate?" My displeasure was obvious in the tone of my voice.

Trent is a either a credible actor, or the thought had never actually crossed his mind. His jaw dropped; he was shocked that I could even conceive the idea.

"Trust me when I say the last thing I am trying to do is scare you away. I want you as near to me as possible." I believed him.

Trent gradually moved closer to me; it was almost like a slow motion movie, but perhaps less graceful. I learned that the gap between the black vinyl seats was hardly a barrier to our close proximity. Trent's strong callous, yet smooth hands, caressed my cheek while his other hand never left own hand. His round, almost feminine lips, brushed across mine. I ran my tongue along the bottom, tasting him. This kiss was a test of my willingness and of his control, but also


There were absolutely no barriers at all.

His golden eyes and gentle, yet insistent, nature was a powerful physical force, much greater than my will, and trying to bind us. My heart was trying to pound a whole into my chest; the air soon became too solid, too stagnant to breath.

I pushed Trent back with both hands on his chest. He removed his hand from mine and my face, and studied me. I need more time, more space, and definitely keep my distance from the tempting man in front of me. "I need," I whispered, certain Trent could hear.

He had relaxed back into his seat, letting the pumpkin-orange of the setting sun illuminate his dark hair and half his face. "What is it," he urged.

As much as I wanted to keep my distance, it was as if my body still needed his touch. The nausea was returning. Trent grabbed my hand again, and soothed in small circles.

"I don't know," I lied, certain he could see right through it. Sharing feelings has its downside, I guess.

Trent's neutral faced suddenly changed to something more primal, or more needy. He leaned in closer. "The only thing I can think about right now is you. Tell me you can feel it too." His fire gaze was beginning to burn, and it was unpleasant.

"I need more time to think," I announced. With that last comment, I exited the vehicle. The first shades of navy were beginning to bleed into the sky. I crossed my arms as I welcomed the cool night breeze and let it wrap around me like a blanket. The feel of it relieved me from the suffocating heat in Trent's car.

"Adalia?" Trent called. I had not heard him exit the car, or even approach me. He was only a few feet away, and walking towards me with an agile stride. The frown is what gave away his anger.

"What is it?" I asked, with my most cautious tone of voice.

He grabbed my arms and tugged them away from my chest."You are hurting yourself."

I let my mouth make the surprised "O." Why had I let myself dig my nails into my arms until it drew blood? Why hadn't I felt it until just now?

"Is there something you are not telling me?" I wondered. Trent held my wrists at my sides and moved so that even a pencil could not fit between us.

"Actually, I already told you."


"The magic that binds us as mates can cause insanity if we resist."

"This isn't insanity! This is, well, I don't know what this is! By insanity, I though you meant it would affect only our minds."

"No, I meant we would do things. Crazy things that we don't even think about doing. It makes you look insane for not knowing what you are going to do next, but you really don't know," he clarified.

"Had you noticed you were hurting yourself?" Trent leaned down and whispered softly by my ear. His hair teased the skin that was bar on my shoulder.


Could being Trent's mate really be that bad? Life right now is becoming absolute hell. I should be furious, but the only thing I feel is slumberous.

Trent walked me to my apartment, gently kissed my forehead, and then ran past his car and into the woods.


Back at my apartment, I showered and hopped into bed with nothing on my mind but the promise of good sleep. I wore the most conservative pair of pajamas I owned: a yellow cotton t-shirt and shorts that were emblazoned with hundreds of tiny pink hearts.

The promise was a lie, because that night I dreamed again.

In a bed of leaves on my back, I stared up at the moon between the branches that hoped to eventually grasp it. I strong, smooth, yet callous, hand wrapped around my ankle. I lifted myself on my elbows to stare down the line of my body.

To my horror, my pajamas were not cotton or yellow. It was a green silk gown that would have no hope of ever reaching my knees. Its low lacy trim left the tops of my breasts fully exposed. The gown barely covered my bikini style panties, which were smooth, black with a lace trim.

At my ankles, my eyes were met with a pair or golden ones and hair so black it looked like a shadow. In a short instant, the still air was replaced with a refrigerator cold breeze.

Certain my face was an embarrassing red from the cold and being in front of a man in nothing more than lingerie, I dared to meet his eyes. The smile there was anything but lascivious; it was the same look of "Awww" that people got when staring at cute kittens, puppies, or small children.

"What do you want?"

His hand, still on my ankle, began to message; Trent just gave me full-toothed smile as he did this.

Tugging my leg away, I said "This is my dream. You can't touch me here!" However, my voice lacked conviction. His full, almost feminine, lips upturned into a mischievous smile, as he said

"Ah, my dear, but this is my dream too. Please?"

Standing before my legs, his otherworldly beauty- hazel eyes, glowing skin, sensuous lips, and muscular chest- took my breath away. From my current position, lying on my back on the cold stark ground, I could see Trent was naked from the waist and up. He held out his palm to pull me up into a sitting position. "Trent..." was all that escaped my lips before his lips covered my own in a searing kiss that was not gentle or hesitant.

Consumed by desire, I led Trent's dormant hands to my waist. Deciding to travel upwards, Trent caressed the side of each of my breast trough the silky fabric of the bra. His thumbs brushed lightly over my nipples which had already tightened considerably against the thin fabric that did nothing to conceal them from prying eyes. The unbroken kiss only deepened when I ran my hand up his solidness of his chest.

He pressed my body with his back into the bed of leaves and began slowly planting small kisses onto my neck. I turned my head stifling my moan into my pillow.

The warmth, the source of my pleasure, was replaced with agony. I was no longer dreaming, but fully awake sleep deprived and sexually unsatisfied. My clock, the only source of light at the moment, read 3:38 a.m. Crap.


At 3:38 a.m. Trent awoke from one of the most intense dreams of his life in his hotel bed. He tried everything: a cold shower, the pledge of allegiance, and counting backwards from 100. By number 93, his mind was already wondering back to feel of her body against his, the smell of her body near him, and her moans of pleasure. The fact, the he was the source of her pleasure pleased Trent greatly. Adalia fit perfectly against him and he was certain that she would fit perfectly into his life. Now, if only his jeans fit more comfortably over his erection.

Suddenly, his cell phone rang. It's 4 a.m. Who the hell was calling him? It was Mark- Trent's cousin.

"What is it?"

"I couldn't be calling just to chat?" asked Mark.

"Hell, no! It's 4 a.m. It better not be a social call."

"It's not 4a.m. here." Mark laughed.

"There is only a 3 hour time difference. You don't make social calls at 1 a.m. either."

"Very true. I do have a reason for calling, but I want to know how things are going with you mate."

"Great," Trent answered automatically.

"No things are not. I sense that there is tension between the two of you. What's her name?"


"Ah, beautiful name. When can I expect to meet her?"

"Not any time soon."

"But we must get to meet the girl that stole the alpha's heart..."

"I'm not the pack's alpha. That battle was unofficial and for personal reasons."

"Trent, you're in denial. You know that as long a single council member is there to see that the fight is fair it can be declared official. You won a battle against the alpha! Few can challenge the packs strongest! Yet, you won! And I bet you could win again..."

"Mark! If the only reason you called was to lecture me, I will hang up!"

"Ok, ok. I'll get to the point. Brianna is in the hospital."

"What? Why? Is she going to be ok?"

"A broken arm, and a bunch of cuts and bruises. You know who did this."

"No." Trent shook his head. "That bastard will pay!"

"That bastard is looking for you actually. According to Great Mother, both you and he visited Nana this afternoon. I'd be careful. I'd keep Adalia near tonight."

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