𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

Katherine feels mildly hungover as she stirs to consciousness. A throbbing head, dry mouth, general fogginess. It certainly takes her a second to remember the events she experienced before her fitful sleep.

With the smell of burning wendigo in her nostrils, her eyes fly open, and she sits up with a racing heart.

She's in a hotel room. Generic beige walls, a television, a corner lamp behind a chair, an AC unit blasting a wet-cold air. She's tucked under sheets and the fluffy duvet, covered in sweat, with hair sticking all over. She's too hot, too panicked, too faint. And she hurts.

Russell sits in the chair on the other side of the room. Watching her in the shadows, just beyond the reach of the lamp's soft glow.

Tears fill her eyes. "It wasn't just a bad dream, was it?" She asks. Her voice is soft and broken.

Russell's face is confirmation, but she can't decipher much of it, what emotions are swirling around that set brow.

Katherine doesn't know what to say, and so they're staring at each other for what feels like hours. Anxiety rolls over his face, fingers twitch into light fists on the arm rest. 

"How could you?" Katherine spits.

"How could I what? Save your life?" Russell retorts. This is the most angry he's been with her all summer. There's real rage brewing on his face, storms in his dark eyes that she can see all the way across the room. Fingers dimple the fabric in the arms of the chair. "You were gonna let that wendigo get you."

"I fucking deserved it!" She shouts, voice hoarse and straining. "And you took it away!"

"Goddammit, Katherine!" Russell bellows, shoving himself to his feet, and throws the phone off the dresser. "You want to die that badly?!" She just stares at him, almost proud. Didn't know you had it in you. "I took it away?" He looks at her with narrowed eyes. He's digusted with her. Good. "Like it's a fucking reward?! What, being with me all this time is just so fucking bad, Katherine?!"

"Don't you dare make this about yourself!" She shouts, still sitting in that bed. "This isn't about you and you know it! And you—" Her voice dies off, tears fill her eyes. If it's her high emotions or the rawness of her throat, she isn't sure. "You lied to me!"

His face screws up in obvious confusion. "What?!"

"You're a goddamn shifter! And you—" She sobs. "You parade around like these creatures are so much worse than you, but you're them!"

It hit a nerve. She saw the color drain from his face. A sick part of her felt satisfaction, watching his face fall. And she just has to keep fucking going. Who knows why. A defense mechanism...to drill it into her own brain, to get as much space between the two of them before he winds up dead, too, like the others who loved her.

"But it was all a fucking act, wasn't it?!" She asks. "Some monster brought it up at the Creature Convention?" She drops her hands into her lap. "One big mind fuck, right?" No response. Her hoarse voice is like venom, eyes like daggers as she spits, "I never want to see you again."

Russell feels something in his chest shatter, and it constricts. There's no air. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before. Anything. He's suddenly breathless, lightheaded. The room is spinning. "No," he whispers. "No, you don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly," she snarls. "You're a monster. I'm Katherine Fucking Donovan. And I'm letting you walk out of this room with your life."

He's never seen someone so angry.

Russell swallows nothing, his throat works against its own dryness. "Katherine," he breathes, clutching the dresser. "No, it's not..." He shakes his head, feeling his body go cold. "It's not what you think."