Behind the Shadow - Part 2

Chapter 7: Dreams of Another

Azriel lay in bed, his eyes shut tight as he fought the uneasy sleep that came to him in broken fragments. He'd been able to avoid the bond, to suppress the painful pangs that hit him when he ignored it, but he hadn't been able to avoid the dreams.

In the beginning, they had been faint, wisps of shadow and light, vague images that slipped away when he awoke. But now, they were growing stronger, more vivid, each one etching itself deeper into his mind, and each one more sensual than the last. The woman in his dreams was a mystery, her face often just out of focus, but he could feel her—her warmth, her touch, her scent. She was becoming real to him in a way he couldn't deny, and it was driving him mad.

He drifted again into sleep, slipping into a dream that felt almost like a memory, each sensation sharp and clear. He was standing in a vast, open space, surrounded by mist and the faintest hint of starlight. And then, she was there, moving towards him, her bare feet padding softly on the stone beneath them.

She stopped in front of him, her gaze intense, piercing him. He felt his breath hitch, his body drawn towards her by an invisible thread. She smiled, and he felt his pulse quicken, an ache spreading through him that was both painful and intoxicating.

Her fingers trailed over his arm, and he shivered, the warmth of her touch sending a shock through him. He wanted to pull back, to escape the pull of her presence, but his body betrayed him, moving closer, his hands reaching out of their own accord.

"You don't have to hide from me," she whispered, her voice soft and sultry. "I know what you want."

He opened his mouth to protest, to push her away, but she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. She leaned in, her breath warm against his neck, and he felt his resolve begin to crumble, his mind clouded with a desire he couldn't control. She was everything he wanted and everything he couldn't have, and the knowledge of that only made the pull stronger, more desperate.

He awoke with a start, his heart racing, his body aching in a way that left him both furious and ashamed. He lay there in the darkness, breathing heavily, the remnants of the dream clinging to him like smoke. He closed his eyes, trying to shake the image of her from his mind, but it was no use. She was there, lingering just beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the bond he was trying so hard to ignore.

As the days passed, the dreams only grew more intense. Each time he closed his eyes, she was there, waiting for him, drawing him into a world of shadow and light, where everything felt more vivid, more real. He could feel her hands on him, her breath against his skin, her whispers echoing in his ears, filling him with a longing that was as agonizing as it was irresistible.

He found himself avoiding sleep, knowing that each time he closed his eyes, he would be pulled back into that world, where she waited for him, taunting him with her touch, her scent, her voice. He tried to shake it off, to focus on his duties, on Skye, on anything but the bond that was slowly consuming him, but it was no use. The more he fought it, the stronger it grew, until it was all he could think about, all he could feel.

One night, he awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat, his heart racing. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to shake the remnants of the dream from his mind. He felt a surge of guilt, a hollow ache in his chest as he thought of Skye, of the life they were trying to build together. He wanted to be with her, to commit to her fully, but the bond was making that impossible. It was as if he was being torn in two, his heart split between two worlds, two women, each one pulling him in a different direction.

He knew he had to make a choice, to either accept the bond or sever it once and for all, but he couldn't bring himself to decide. The thought of losing Skye, of breaking the bond that they had forged, was unbearable. But the thought of ignoring the mate bond, of living with the constant pull of another woman, was equally unbearable.

As the days passed, he grew more withdrawn, more distant, the weight of his choice pressing down on him like a leaden shroud. He avoided Skye, knowing that he couldn't hide the truth from her forever, that sooner or later, she would sense the change in him, the growing distance between them. He tried to push the bond aside, to bury it beneath his duty, his loyalty, his love for Skye, but it was no use. The bond was there, a constant, unyielding presence, a reminder of the life he could have had, the life he might yet choose.

He lay awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing, his heart aching. He knew that he couldn't go on like this, that something had to give, that sooner or later, he would have to make a choice. But for now, he would endure, holding on to Skye, to the life they had built, even as the bond threatened to tear it all apart.

The dreams would continue, he knew, each one more vivid, more intense, pulling him further into the shadowy world where his mate waited for him, her presence a constant, aching reminder of the bond that bound them together, even as he tried to ignore it. And each night, he would struggle, torn between his duty, his loyalty, his love, and the undeniable pull of the bond that had come into his life, unbidden, unwelcome, yet impossible to ignore.