Call of the Wild

10 - The Nightmare

Mason returns to me with a key and a frown.

"We've got a room," he tells me as I get out of the car and follow him down the rows of numbered doors. "But I don't think you'll like it— it's the only one they have left."

I send him a lost look, but before I can ask what he means, he stops before a door, unlocks it, and ushers me inside.

He flicks the light on and I see what he means. The room itself is nice enough— basic, comfortable armchairs, warm lights, a little bathroom attached. The only problem is the sleeping arrangement. There's just a double bed.

"We can sleep in the car, if you want," Mason says, rubbing the back of his neck as he surveys the place with a little wince.

But I'm so tired and aching and fed up with being in that car, I collapse face-first onto the bed. I bury my head in the pillows and sigh deeply.

"This is fine," I mumble incoherently. It feels like lying on a cloud, and I will not pass up this opportunity.

Absently, I listen as Mason moves about. He goes into the bathroom for a while, and when he returns and sits on the bed, I manage to rouse myself and follow suit.

I return from the bathroom not five minutes later, but I find him already asleep on top of the covers— shoes on, still.

He looks peaceful; lips slightly parted, features relaxed in the soft fog of sleep. The day's tension has slid from his form as easily as water.

I stare for a lot longer than I intended to. Watching his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. Watching his brows furrow against some conjured frustration in his sleep. Giddy laughter from outside our room drags me back to focus, and I shake myself free of his spell and wander to his side.

With care, I take off his shoes and manage to pull the duvet over him without waking him. He doesn't stir, lost to his slumber, so I check the door is locked, turn off the lights, and slide into bed at his side.

Though it doesn't take long for me to fall asleep, I'm woken several times. First because Mason, in his sleep, has pulled the duvet off me and I wake up freezing. I tug it back and hold it like a lifeline to my chest. Wind howls outside; taunting me with its jeering melody.

The second time I wake up, it's because of a nightmare. I dream of my pack storming the place and dragging me back to my life before the Call, of Kain breaking the door down all bloodied and full of rage. I startle awake gasping for breath and it takes several minutes of deep breathing and rationalising assurances before I calm down. I sit up and tug my hands through my hair.

"What's wrong?" Mason mumbles, his voice making me flinch.

I glance his way and find him facing me, his eyes bleary and his hair all messy. "Bad dream," I whisper, melting back against the sheets and pulling the duvet to my chin.

He frowns and rolls over to check the time on his phone. The screen makes the room glow and the shadows lengthen. I squint against the glare.

"It's only four," Mason tells me, turning around so we're face to face. "We'll be gone first thing, and there's no way they can catch up to us. I promise."

I nod and force myself to calm down. It takes a while before I manage to fall asleep again— every so often, I crack one eye open to check I'm still in the motel, in bed with Mason at my side. Every breath I take is laced with his fresh scent, and it settles over me like a security blanket.

The third time I wake, it's to the click of the front door.

At once, I bolt upright— ready to flee, to hide, to escape.