Chapter 10 - Linnea

I'm standing in a field, wearing a sundress, the soft breeze lifting my hair from my shoulders and rustling my skirt. The sun shines down in golden rays, warming my shoulders and making the field of flowers smell magnificent. I'm twirling with my hands out until I laugh and fall into the flowers, which are as soft as a bed beneath me.

In the distance, I see a man with a child, and he's swinging the child. The child's laugh rings out over the field, high and cheerful, and I smile, even though I know this is a dream. I watch as the man and the child change form, turning into wolves—one large and one small—and start running through the field, playing and chasing each other. The little one gets further away, and the bigger wolf catches up to him, grabbing him by the scruff and tossing him up onto the bigger one's back.

After having visions for so long, I've gotten good at identifying the differences. For one, my dreams are usually pleasant, while my visions are less so.

The fact that I'm not having a terrible migraine also tells me that this is a dream and not a vision. I wish it was a vision—my current situation is so terrible it would be nice to know my future held something lovely and simple, like an afternoon in a field of flowers with people I loved.

As I lie in the flowers, dozing in the warm sunshine, I look to the edge and see the man and the child disappear. I'm sad, but not overly so—I knew they weren't mine to begin with. I open my eyes again, and I'm tucked into a bed, warm and safe, with an arm draped over my middle.

Something's pressing into my back, and I nuzzle back into it contentedly. I smell Aris's familiar pine scent as he wraps his arm around me, pulling me tight to him. In a moment of clarity, I realize it's his cock pressing into my ass, and I find myself arching back into him. His breath comes faster, and he reaches down to push my panties aside—

"Linnea."

I jolt, opening my eyes to see Aris standing in front of the bed, his eyes dark and heated. My eyes trace to his forearms, bare and braced against the bedposts. I catch a glimpse of a tattoo and wonder how I didn't notice it before. I make a note to investigate it further when I have the opportunity.

He's most definitely not in bed with me, and I curse my brain for tricking me with the double dream. I also feel my cheeks flush, knowing that's how I would have reacted if he had actually climbed into bed with me. My core is throbbing at the memory, and I shift, feeling a damp spot in my underwear.

Is this the mating bond? Or the blood-bond? Or just how any woman would react if they were in a bed and Aris was standing over them like this?

When he's close like this, I can feel his heartbeat like my hand is on his chest. I wonder if he can feel mine, too, but I'm too embarrassed to bring it up. Remembering the way people made me feel about my visions, I wonder if the heartbeat thing might be written off as another delusion from a silly girl.

Realizing I was just having a sex dream about Aris, and now I'm openly staring at him, I flush, feeling the warmth from my forehead down to my neck. What was I doing when he came in? Could he tell what I was dreaming about?

"Why are you watching me sleep?" I finally ask, blinking away the sleep in my eyes. I take in his appearance, eyes roaming up to his face—he looks like shit. The bags under his eyes have only gotten darker and his hair is damp, flopping into his face. The faint smell of outdoor water wafts off of him. "And why are you wet?"

I could ask you the same thing, I hear him growl in my head. I gasp and sit back, pulling the covers higher over me. My brain supplies me with the image of him pulling them down, crawling into the bed, covering my body with his, and I push it away. It's bad enough to have dreams about him naked—I won't allow myself to fantasize about it awake, too.

Can you hear what I'm thinking? I think at him, eyes wide. From what my parents told me, it took them years to develop a mind link, and it only ever happens after mates have consummated.

The thought of that sends another shiver down my back. Maybe it's different with an alpha—maybe our mind link will develop before consummation. Maybe we can put consummation off forever and just keep operating the way we are now.

My eyes skip up to Aris and I take in his disheveled appearance again. I'm no genius—but it's not hard to imagine what he's feeling if I'm having sex dreams about him.

"Can you hear what I'm thinking?" I breathe, eyes wide as I look at him. He's got a hand out on one of the bed posts, leaning against it. He looks like he could fall asleep at any moment.

"No," he says, seeming a little more alert after I ask him that. He eyes me up and down, then takes a step back. "Can you hear what I'm thinking?"

After a moment, I lie: "No."

It's not a whole lie—I only heard the one line. Or maybe it wasn't actually him; maybe I was just fantasizing about what he might say. It did sound exactly like him. It was so unexpected. I push the thought away, straightening up.

"Where did you go last night?"

"I slept in the river."

"You—you what?"

"Well, I didn't actually sleep in the river like a fish," Aris says, grinning a little. "But I did take a dip, and I did fall asleep on a rock out there. Bigby woke me up this morning before I could wash away and drown."

"What a shame," I hear myself saying, and to my surprise, Aris cracks a smile. Is he so sleep-deprived that he's developed a sense of humor?

"Listen," Aris says, wincing as he adjusts his posture. "What can you tell me about Varun?"

I shift, uncomfortable when I remember the things I saw during my brief stint in the pack headquarters. Remembering what it was like to be there isn't pleasant for me, and Aris must feel that because his forehead wrinkles.

"That bad?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," I say, wrapping my arms around my knees and pulling them close to my chest. "I didn't—there are a lot of girls there against their will."

I watch Aris's jaw work, and he pulls up a chair to the end of the bed, sitting down and meeting my eyes.

"Tell me," he says, finally. I can feel the pain and guilt radiating off him—he still thinks Varun being the alpha here is his fault, and I wish there was something I could do to convince him otherwise. He may be stubborn and a pain in my ass, but Varun's actions are his alone, and Aris doesn't have to take responsibility for them.

Taking a deep breath, I think about what I saw myself and what I've heard from others in the pack.

"I was there for a little more than a week, trying to work with the messy paperwork and financial documents to help get things in order," I say. "During that time, I saw a lot of girls coming in and out, a lot of them crying, fighting against shifters, pushing back. Sometimes, they were wearing practically nothing. Sometimes, I didn't see them leave for days."

Aris swallows, his eyes on the floor, and I shift, trying to settle myself.

"I heard from some of the older women in the pack that—that Varun has kind of a thing for a lot of those old pack rules and traditions, the stuff that most people just ignore. He started demanding girls report to the bar once they turned 18, and if they didn't, he found them and brought them in. Any girl who was going to go away for college was forced to stay local or not go at all. Many of them ended up just working at the bar, developing alcoholism, and funneling their paychecks right back into the bar."

Aris abruptly stands, pacing back and forth, running his hand over his stubble, which has grown out even more. My eyes track him back and forth as he walks, and I realize that though he's clearly upset and acting aggressive, I feel completely safe.

"There was one girl," I start, swallowing when Aris fixes the full weight of his gaze on me. I look down at the duvet, picking on a loose gold thread. "Varun got her pregnant. He didn't want the threat of a rising alpha, apparently. Nobody has heard from her since. Her mom has been frantic, desperate, trying to find her. Varun's lackeys just laugh at her when she comes in asking about her daughter."

I feel a tear tracking down my cheek and roughly wipe it away.

"I saw her on one of the days I was there. She was so distraught, the poor woman. I just wanted to hug her. But it's not just girls—Varun's also been ruling over the men in the pack with an iron fist, brainwashing them with a lot of the old ways of doing things. I've seen guys we went to high school with doing horrible things and acting like oafs. When—when I was there, Tommy Fage… He started to—"

Aris kicks over a plastic bucket in the corner, sending a sponge across the floor. I jump at the sound and watch as he whirls around, eyes blazing.

"That same asshole from prom?"

I nod, pulling the blanket up higher. Varun may not have done anything to me, but Fage was more than ready to start round two of harassing me. Never mind the fact that I told him I was just there to do the financials and that I wasn't interested—his hand managed to find its way to my thigh anyway.

Aris comes back to the bed, putting his hand on the bedpost again and leaning in, his eyes intent.

"Listen, Linnea, stay in this cabin, okay? Don't come out for any reason. You need something, you can call out, I'll come bring it to you, okay?"

"You are not seriously trying to imprison me in here—" I start, but there's a knock at the door.

"Hey," Byron calls, "We got the commander on in five. Signals spotty, got to make sure we get the timing right."

"My mom has a whole bunch of books in the living area," Aris says, walking backward toward the door. "Under the coffee table. Help yourself. Just don't leave the cabin."

I cross my arms, aware that I look insolent but not caring. He really thinks he has the right to just boss me around and lock me away.

"Don't want to rush you," Byron says, "But the commander is coming through now."

Aris swears under his breath, gazes at me for a long moment, then turns and walks out the door without another word, once again leaving me alone in the cabin.