Misty
I’m dreaming. I know this is a vision–a glimpse into life happening far, far away. I think I love this power the most.
I think I’m somewhere on the far northern coast of Crescent Falls, near the border with Celestoria. It’s definitely one of the fog-soaked islands–an obscure, rural pack territory.
I stand on a hill overlooking a cottage. Yellow, winter grass hugs the little house, smoke rising from its chimney. A young woman with mousy-brown hair steps outside, bundled in a coat, hiking a messenger bag over her shoulder as she turns back to the door and smiles, saying something to the woman standing just out of view within.
Then, I’m following the young woman as she walks toward the village. She smiles at a few people and wolves she passes. Her eyes are a soft gray–Cole’s eyes.
This is his sister, Annabel. This is where she lives now.
I watch as she steps into the yard of a single story stone building. Children dart in the brisk, cool winter air, chasing a ball around. Other’s funnel into the building carrying backpacks, mingling with each other.
Annabel stops in the courtyard, kicking the ball back to the group of seven or eight-year-old boys, and says something to them I can’t hear, tapping her watch.
She follows their progress with her gaze as they dart into the school where she teaches.
But a group of men walking by catch her attention. They’re packed for a journey–duffle bags hanging over their shoulders as they turn toward the road leading toward the port where a boat awaits to take them… to war.
I watch as Annabel stares longingly at one man in particular. He stops to look at her. He’s handsome in a rugged way. Tall and strong. Likely my brothers’ age. He gives her a sad kind of a smile, raising a hand to her.
She waves sadly at him in response, but her eyes tell me everything I need to know.
She loves this man, and based on the broken look on his face, he loves her back.
He disappears into the mist with his group, and Annabel dabs tears from her eyes as she turns to the school entrance and walks inside.
I expect to be torn from the vision now, to find myself in someone else’s living room, watching another scene play out, but Annabel pauses in the doorway.
She turns slowly, her eyes scanning the courtyard before she looks directly at me.
“How is he?” she asks in a dreamy, far away voice.
I look over my shoulder, thinking she’s talking to someone else, but everyone else has faded from view.
I turn back to her, confused and more than surprised. I remind myself this is just a dream, but she says, “Cole? Is he all right? Is he taking care of himself?”
“As best he can,” I answer. “He–He tends to take care of everyone else more than himself.”
“I know,” she says with a soft smile. “He’s always been like that. He’ll be a great king.”
We stare at each other. She starts to turn back to the door but thinks better of it, saying, “He’s not the monster he wants you to think he is.”
“I know.”
“He–He’s been waiting for you. He wanted nothing more. It was his dream.”
“What dream?”
“You,” she says, matter-of-factly. “His–”
I’m yanked from the vision. Gasping, I blink into hazy, gray light that fills my eyes and burns for a moment before Cole’s face comes into view.
He sighs, laying his hand over my forehead. “You talk in your sleep,” he mumbles.
“What time is it? What day? How long–”
“You’ve only been out for most of a day. It’s past midnight now.” He leans out of view and returns with a… blood pressure cuff?
“I don’t need that,” I groan, closing my eyes against the light of what I realize is a lamp. The room around us is cast in soft light, but the sound of thundering, ceaseless rain howls throughout the room as the dead sleep loosens its grip on my body and mind.
Cole bunches it in his hands, pursing his lips as he sets it back in a giant bag resting on the edge of the bed. I sit up, scowling at the bag. “What’ve you been up to?”
“Checking your vitals.” His cheeks go a little pink as he stuffs a stethoscope back in the bag. “I just gave you a shot of adrenaline to wake you up. You need to eat.”
A slight, pinching pain flares to light in my upper arm. I rub the spot, frowning at him. “I have healing powers, remember?”
“Yes, and I’m a physician. While you laid here like you were dead, I did what I needed to do to make sure you were going to wake up again… eventually.”
He rises and gives me his back as he packs the rest of the bag and leaves it on a table across the room, his body cast in shadow. I watch him lift his head to look out the windows, at the rain, and decide that Cole is a sensitive, big-hearted softy.
I continue watching him with interest as he fixes a plate for me, choosing the best pieces of fruit, the crispiest pieces of bread. He wordlessly fluffs the pillows behind me and tucks me in tight before handing me the food and taking a seat in the little sitting area across the room.
I nibble on the food, watching him instead, watching the way he crosses his legs and rests his head in his hand as he pours over a page in his notebook.
I wonder what he was like during his school years. Was he popular at TU? Did he play sports, hangout at the bar and party with his friends… or was he quiet? Did he spend his days, and nights, in the library? Did he prefer the quiet solitude of the study hall over the busy, noisy common rooms in the dorms?
I bite into a grape and watch him scribble notes–notes I’m sure are about me.
“You have a habit of staring at me,” he says under his breath.
I frown, stuffing another strawberry into my mouth to stop some smart-ass remark from leaving my lips.
“If you’re still hungry, I can try to cook you something… I dismissed the kitchen staff and the maids earlier today.” He closes his notebook and rises, walking toward the bed. He looks slightly guilty right now as he taps the spine of the notebook against his palm, his eyes meeting mine. “You likely don’t remember, but Georgia left today. She came to say goodbye. I have it on good authority that she’ll reach the border by tomorrow morning.”
I swallow my food but feel an emptiness creeping in. “She’s safe, then?”
He nods, sitting on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Declan and Luke left as well, as did Orion’s mate… Lacey.”
“Is she okay?”
“She will be. You did, in fact, break the curse.” His eyes hold mine–soft, and…warm. Something about Cole in general is comforting. His presence rewires my brain, honestly. I tend to get lost in my own head, burdened by my tangled thoughts. I mask that part of me–the anxious part, the part that likes to slip into doubt–by being sharp and commanding. By talking over everyone, butting into business I have no reason to be in…. I constantly find distractions to keep myself busy so I never have to feel too deeply into my own head.
And then there’s Cole who I think enjoys being in his head. I think he enjoys being alone–craves it, actually.
We couldn’t be more different. He couldn’t be more different than any man I’ve ever known.
I’m not sure I deserve his kindness, honestly.
I doubt, had our situation been different, I would have given Cole the time of day.
And that fact makes me feel horrible.
“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly.
I blink, wondering how long I’ve been sitting here in silence. “I’m fine, really.”
“Are you feeling… pain, anywhere?”
My heart. My heart feels heavy and broken as I try to work through the feelings creeping through my body.
“No,” I lie, and he gives me a look.
“Something’s wrong,” he whispers, arching a brow. “You’re not arguing with me, so you must be in pain.”
“I’m not in pain,” I assert, dragging my knees to my chest beneath the thick blankets covering my body. “I’m just thinking.”
Cole holds space for me in silence. He doesn’t pry. He doesn’t nudge my shoulder and tell me to chill, like Nathan would have done. In fact, Cole just… waits. He waits for me to be ready to talk to him about what’s going on in my head if I want to.
“I don’t get you at all,” I say, dropping my eyes to my fingers as I knit them around my knees.
“You don’t get… me?”
“You’re not what I expected you’d be. Kenna–my cousin?”
“Yes, I know Kenna.”
“She doesn’t like you. She never really explained why, but when you kidnapped me, it made more sense that you’re some kind of monster than knowing that you’re actually this–” I wave a hand at him for emphasis, not that my words make sense.
“Kenna doesn’t like me because we went into the same kind of study,” he says softly. “At least, that’s what I think happened. In truth, I never got a chance to really know anyone in your family, so I can’t be sure what the reason is, but I assume it’s because I became a doctor, and she also studies medicine.”
Kenna can be rather competitive, so that makes sense to me.
“What did you expect me to be like?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“A typical Alpha male,” I groan, leaning against the pillows. “Full of yourself. Cocky and arrogant.”
“I’m sure I can be like that–”
“When you need to be. That’s the difference.” I lean forward again, reaching for his hand, toying with his fingers instead of picking at my nails like I want to. “You’re really nice. I’m not used to that.”
His fingers curl around mine.
“It’s not fair that you’re going through this,” I say softly, lifting my eyes to his. “Alone.”
“I can handle it.”
“I don’t think you can.” I hold his gaze, seeing the first hints of raw emotion behind his carefully crafted expression. “You’re really good at this–pretending. Being all stoic and emotionless. It’s probably what makes you a good doctor.”
“I never said I was a good doctor–”
“You’ve been fussing over me since we met,” I say in a strained voice. “You care about me. But I’m… I’m in your way here, aren’t I?”
“No,” he breathes, shaking his head as he leans toward me. “Misty, that’s not–”
“You should hate me,” I tell him with a trembling voice.
“No,” he murmurs, reaching for me. “Stop. Hating you will never be an option.”
“But all of this is because of me. The attack on TU–”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“My friends getting roped into this–you being stuck with me, having to use me as a breeder just to–just to try and protect me–”
He leans his forehead against mine as I start to come apart at the seams. “That’s not how I feel, Misty. I don’t hate you. I’m not–I’m not taking care of you because I have to. I’m here. I’m here with you, beside you. I’m here for you.”
I close my eyes. He cups my cheek, tilting my face to his.
“I saw you for the first time the day before the attack. Do you remember?”
I nod, imagining the moment in my mind when he’d passed with a group of order members flanking him. He’d paused to look at me a second time, smirking ever so slightly while I’d glowered at him instead of bowing like Georgia.
“You glared at me,” he laughs, his eyes narrowed and heavy with emotion I can’t describe. “And I was so thankful for it because, at the moment, I knew you’d be okay. Whatever I was forced to throw at you, you’d handle it.”
He rises over me, lowering his body against mine, balancing on his elbows as he presses his weight into me and I… relax. The way this man’s touch can ease my anxious mind and heart needs to be studied.
For a moment, Cole’s expression relaxes, too, replaced by a dark, heady look in his eyes, and I thrum to life beneath him. I arch my neck, chasing his mouth with mine, but he doesn’t lean down to kiss me.
He snaps out of whatever came over him and asks, “Do you remember making that blade with your powers?”
“No,” I answer honestly, but my tone is weak and needy. My lips part as he drags his thumb over my lower lip. He watches the movement, his eyes locked on my mouth.
“You’re incredible,” he whispers, finally meeting my gaze again.
“I’m not the one sacrificing everything for my kingdom,” I say hoarsely and instantly regret it.
Cole’s eyes change. His mouth briefly brushes over mine before he pulls away, clearing his throat as he leaves the bed. He paces a few steps away while I lie here feeling empty–and cold.
“Richard is here, in Oasia.”
I blink, spurred back to reality. “Why?”
“He’s throwing you a party,” he breathes, tucking his hands in his pant pockets. “For your birthday.”
I sit up, shaking my head. “Why would he do that?”
“He’s under the assumption you’ll come into the powers he suspects you have–the powers he needs to open the Gate of the Gods. You’ve already developed those powers, though, judging by what you did for Lacey.” He turns to me looking apologetic–and a bit nervous. “Can you shift yet, Misty?”
“I don’t think so,” I tell him, unsure what exactly he wants from me right now. “I haven’t felt anything–wolfish, yet.”
“Do you want to try?”