Page 23 of Curvy Alpha Bride
It’s not the getaway I was hoping for, but it is nice here. Kind of magical, actually.
As I begin to drift off, I wonder what kind of magic it could be. Because something in this place feels wrong, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with my internal conflicts.
Chapter 8 - Xavier
My body and mind are so exhausted that the second I lie down, sleep overcomes me like a heavy, black tide. For a while, there is nothing. Then my internal darkness is brightened by flashes of white and blue light.
I know I’m dreaming as the glow begins to illuminate thick trunks of trees around me with shadows so deep, I still can’t make out any details. The light flashes through the woods as if it’s moving very fast, and I jog towards it, hoping to find out what it is.
Suddenly, I realize it’s coming towards me, and terror like nothing I’ve ever known streaks through my bones. This isn’t fear like I might feel from leaping over a chasm or getting into a scruff with a bear. This is marrow-deep, like ice in my veins. Primal, unparalleled horror.
If this thing gets me, it will be worse than death!
I turn and run, seeing only suggestions of trees around me and shadows so thick they get caught in my throat when I try to breathe, strangling me. Somewhere in the darkness, I see a flash of red. I realize it’s Mabel in her wedding dress. I bolt towards her, stumbling over logs and branches in the dark.
When I get closer, I see that she’s dancing in a clearing ahead, spinning and turning without a care in the world. When I look behind me, the silvery blue glow is still there, and even though I know it wants to do unmentionable horrors to me, suddenly I’m more afraid for Mabel.
“Your soul, I’ll take. But it’s her blood I need.”
The guttural words are uttered right against my neck, and I feel the rush of air and the stink of fetid breath. I wake up sofast, I almost hurl myself out of bed, struggling with the blankets for a minute as I try to wake up properly.
I look over at Mabel. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled towards me with her dark, wavy hair spread out across the pillow. She looks so innocent and sweet, and I feel such a fierce need to protect her that for a moment, I regret bringing her here at all.
Calm down. You’re awake now, and it was just a dream.
As I get up and put on my robe, common sense refuses to sink in. I want to banish my nightmare with a healthy dose of stoicism and self-deprecation, but the niggling anxiety just won’t fade.
As I stand at the kitchen counter making coffee, I feel an icy trickle down my spine.
Something watching me.
Directly outside the window, a small glade runs straight up into the mountain, an almost vertical sheer edge that rises straight into the sky. It’s the only place an unknown watcher could observe me, but it would be near impossible for anyone or anything to set up camp in that wilderness.
Unless it’s behind me.
I stare at the coffee maker as I carefully spoon coffee into the filter. Even though the uncomfortable feeling gets worse, I refuse to look up.
I’m not giving in to the superstitions of this town! There’s nothing there!
Slowly, the knowledge dawns on me that my determination not to react is solely based on my certainty that there is someone there, and I’m trying to fake them out.
I finish with the coffee maker, take a deep breath, then square up and turn around. The little living room is empty, of course, looking warm and cozy with its overstuffed chairs and brightly colored rugs. There is a window on the other side of the room, but if someone were watching me from that side of the house, they’d have to have their face pressed right up against the glass.
I don’t have time to feel any relief, though. The longer my back faces the mountain, the worse my anxiety gets. The stench from my dream returns, and I become completely convinced that a glowing specter is standing behind me, ready to tear me apart with sharp, freezing-cold claws.
“Xavier?” Mabel asks, coming to the doorway. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I answer, giving myself a mental shake. To my dismay, the intensity of my feeling eases, but doesn’t go away completely.
Something is watching us!
Don’t be a goddamn fool!
“Can you get my bag out of the car?” she asks, yawning.
My stomach twists. I know it’s a perfectly normal request, but the last thing I want to do is go outside.
“Sure,” I say nonchalantly, heading for the door. My anxiety increases the closer I get to it, and I desperately try to remain calm, or at least hide my panic from Mabel.
