Message in the inbox 📥

Chapter 6

Ainsley found herself barefoot, running aimlessly through a vast green field, the grass soft and cool beneath her feet. The moon hung large and luminous in the ink-black sky, casting an eerie silver light over everything. The scene felt both serene and unsettling. The stars twinkled like diamonds, but the wind was sharp, biting at her skin. Her long red hair was wild and untamed, whipping around her face, falling freely to her waist.

She felt a strange weight in her chest, her heart pounding, fear swirling through her veins. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she hurried along the edge of a very blue lake, the water so still it looked like glass, reflecting the moon above. Her eyes, wide and weary, darted around, searching for something but she wasn't sure what. She couldn't make a sound. Her lips parted, but no words came out, and an overwhelming sense of panic began to rise within her.

The dress she wore felt foreign, as though it belonged to another time flowing and delicate, but weighed down by something unseen. She ran her hands across the fabric, feeling the strange texture against her fingertips, but her mind remained blank as to why she was wearing it or how she had ended up here.

Her bare feet padded against the soft earth, each step quick and urgent, though she didn't know where she was headed. Every few seconds, she looked behind her as though something or someone was following. But the field was empty, just endless grass, the lake, and the glowing moon. Still, the fear persisted, gripping her tighter with every step she took.

Suddenly, she hit with something solid. The impact jolted her back, and she stumbled on the edge of falling, her arms flailing to catch herself. But just as she began to lose balance, a set of strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her, holding her upright. The touch was protective, gentle yet firm, and for the briefest moment, a wave of calm washed over her.

Her heart pounded harder against her ribs as she looked up to meet the gaze of the person who had caught her. But she couldn't see their face. Shadows obscured their features, leaving her with only the sensation of safety in their hold. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, to get a better look, but it was as though the light around them shifted, concealing their identity.

Behind the stranger, a black horse stood tall and majestic, its dark mane flowing in the wind. The sight of the horse was almost otherworldly, and Ainsley felt a strange pull toward it. But when she turned back to the person who had caught her, the sun suddenly burst from behind the horizon, its blinding light pouring over the figure in front of her. The brightness was too much too sharp, too intense. She shielded her eyes with her hand, squinting against the glare, but she still couldn't make out their face.

"Who are you?" she wanted to ask, but the words remained trapped in her throat. The harder she tried to speak, the more distant the figure seemed to become, the world around her growing fuzzy and surreal. The warmth of the sun on her skin and the cool breeze tangled in her hair felt both real and dreamlike.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the dream shattered.

Ainsley's eyes flew open, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like a heavy fog. The brightness of the dream was replaced by the soft, dim morning light slipping through her window, a thin trace of sunshine filtering into the room.

She lay there, breathless and confused, her body still tangled in her sheets. The dream had felt so vivid, so real, and yet so utterly strange. The sensation of those warm arms around her waist lingered in her mind, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it meant something something she couldn't quite understand.