Enchanted | Jacob Black

thirteen

I tried to scream, feeling an ice-cold grip around my throat, nails digging into my skin. But nothing would come out. I pulled and scratched at the hand that felt like stone. No matter how hard I fought, the grip only seemed to tighten. Panic clawed at my lungs, each breath shallower than the last. My vision blurred. And then my head was yanked to the side, a sharp jolt that sent searing pain racing down my neck. I felt the sting of something slicing my skin. Burning.

A growl echoed somewhere in the distance, low and guttural. Red hair. A blur of fire.

Victoria.

I opened my mouth to scream again, but nothing came out.

I shot up in bed with a gasp. My hand flew to my throat, fingers trembling as they found only smooth skin, no wounds. No cold grip.

Just me, alone in my room, drenched in sweat and shaking.

My chest heaved, and air rasped in and out as I struggled to understand what was real and what was a dream.

I ran my hands through my hair, still catching my breath.

It was just a dream.

But it had felt real.

So real that I could still feel the phantom ache on my neck. Still, see her face. Still, hear the sound of her sharp and threatening laughter.

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand; it was 5:07 am.

I sat still for a few minutes, my arms wrapped around my knees, my forehead resting against them as I tried to slow my breathing.

I'm here, and I'm fine. I kept repeating to myself as I got the courage to get out of bed and walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water. So far, I had done a good job of repressing the memory, making myself believe it was never that serious. This had been the first nightmare since that night.

There was no chance I could fall back asleep, so I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I turned on the coffee pot, sitting down at the kitchen table, now wishing I wasn't alone.

Dad wasn't home; he got another last-minute delivery and wouldn't return until tomorrow night.

The house was quiet, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the sound of brewing coffee. The morning light had barely started to creep through the curtains when a sharp knock sounded at the front door.

I froze.

It was barely past five.

Another knock, louder this time. Who would be here this early? My feet moved before my brain could catch up. I peeked through the window beside the door.

Jake.

I released a shaky breath of relief and quickly unlocked it, pulling the door open.

He stood shirtless and in shorts, his hair wet from the rain. His eyes locked onto mine immediately, scanning my face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worried. "It sounded like you couldn't breathe."

I stepped aside so he could walk in and close the door behind him. "You heard that?"

"Yeah, I was on patrol. My hearing is way better when I'm in wolf form." He stepped back to look at me, "So what happened?"

"It was just a nightmare."

He furrowed his eyebrows with concern, "about?"

"Victoria."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, Harper, this is all my fault." He ran a hand through his hair; he looked so tired. "I brought you into it. If it weren't for me, for all of this, you wouldn't be having nightmares about being attacked."