Dream {Book 1}

Chapter twelve

Two days later

I look out the window, my eyes slowly closing and opening. Less people walk around today, as the clouds above cover the sun. I can tell it will rain soon. The trees sway in the wind, causing a few leaves to roam with the breeze. It's dreary outside, that's for sure.

The door creaks open quietly, but being in the silent room for so long, it sounds as loud as thunder. A Pack member, unknown to me, places a tray of grilled cheese and chocolate milk on the un-used bed. They sigh at the sight of my breakfast tray, still full with untouched toast, milk, eggs and bacon.

My stomach growls in protest when they walk out with the food, closing the door behind them. I wrap my arms over myself, willing my stomach to be quiet.

It's all a part of my vulnerability plan. I haven't eaten much food in two days and I haven't slept very much. Though I am a little scared of this place, I show it as if I'm terrified of it.

I don't leave the window seat, keeping a pile of blankets over top of my small body so that when a Pack member comes in, I can hide behind it to show my fear. When I do leave the seat, it's to go to the washroom. I always take a look at my reflection in the mirror. My face is pale and my hair is dull. I've lost weight, and it shows on my stomach.

Tate has been sending Pack members in to drop off the food. It's a new person everytime. Why he does it like that is beyond me, but it's not like I take my time to study their faces. I don't want to remember any of them anyway.

I suspect that they report to their Alpha of my state. How I look, my fear, the fact that I don't eat the food. But he hasn't showed up in my room yet.

Neither has Darcey.

I want to say that I miss my best and only friend; that I want to see her and apologize for freaking out on her. Nonetheless, the voice in my head tells me not to. If she really wants me back as a friend, then she can come and attempt to apologize. Even if I won't accept.

More changes have come in the past two days, preparing me for my shift.

My sight has changed gradually. When I look out the window, my vision zones in on different things like a bird in a tree, a small boy stuffing candy in his pocket in a store across the village. I can hear every footstep and sound from outside of the wooden door and at random times, my muscles tighten and un tighten.

I lean my head back against the wall, my eyes closing slightly. I know I should get some sleep, eat some food. But I also know that for my plan to work, I can't do either. Pinching my arm, I open my eyes and stare out into the village again.

I haven't got a hold of Dylan at all. The fear of him being in danger consumes me every time I think of him. But I need to get passed this. Dylan's fine, or at least that's what I tell myself.

The door opens again, creaking across the floor. The visitor closes it just as slowly and his scent consumes me.

I huddle closer to the window, pulling the blankets over my head as Tate watches me sadly. Every move I make is difficult without energy in my system. But in the end, it will all be worthit.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. But the air is filled with his scent, which my strong sense of smell picks up. The smell only makes my heart beat faster.

The bed squeaks as he sits down on the edge. I hear the clinking noise of utensils and a plate as he moves it to the night table. Then he lays down on the bed, his arms behind his bed, his face to the roof. He closes his eyes without even so much as a peek at me.

I pull the blankets down just past my nose, taking in his scent while watching him intently.

What in the world is he doing?