3. Terra

Ihave to be dreaming.

There's no other explanation for what's happening right now. Plus, I've had this dream many, many times, so it's not exactly unfamiliar to look up to Rylan's face hovering over mine.

In my dream, though, Rylan's black hair is shorter. His face is usually a little rounder and isn't quite as harsh as what I see before me. His body in the dream is usually a little less… cut. The Rylan I'm dreaming of now has muscles that are so defined, I could practically teach an anatomy class just from the way they flex and bunch under my eyes.

He's always been big. Brutal looking, like a guy who you do not want to run into at night.

But underneath that, he's always been mine. My Rylan.

Now, though… he looks strange. Rylan, but unfamiliar. It's odd.

There are other little differences, too. For example, in my dreams, he's usually smiling. Not staring at me like he's terrified of what I'll do next.

It's a little weird, but he's definitely positioned just like he is in my dreams. Usually, this is the point in the dream when I try to kiss him.

I never can, though. Every time I try, I get right to the point where our lips brush, and then he disappears.

On that impulse, I lean forward. The feel of my hand on his neck is so real. I can feel the sweat on his skin. I can smell his scent, a mix of pine and sandalwood that always drove me crazy.

The smell is so much more intense than usual. Did I take some of Mom's special calming tea before bed? If so, I'm going to drink it every single night, despite the fact that I think she went a little heavy on the mushrooms this time.

It's almost like it's real.

Hungrily, I pull his mouth to mine.

When I feel his lips part, I groan.

This feels so real.

I never want to wake up.

Idly, I'm aware that I need to stop. That if I wake up thinking that this is real, my heart is going to break all over again.

But he tastes so fucking good, and I don't care anymore.

Both of my hands curl over the back of his neck, my nails scraping against his scalp as I pull him closer to me. Rylan lets out a noise of surprise, which is not what I would want to hear in a dream that is becoming pretty darn close to just a straight-up fantasy, but eventually, he moans with desire as well.

When his hands cradle my face, I feel like I'm going to cry. He holds me like I'm precious. Like I'm something to be treated gently, and like he never wants to let me go.

It only makes me hungrier. Our lips battle as I sit up, leaning forward to wrap my arms around him.

In the dream, I'm naked. I feel my breasts press against his chest, and the points of contact between us sizzle with heat that makes my core feel aching and empty. If I slide one of my hands down his chest, will I find him hard and ready?

Rylan pulls back. "Terra. We can't," he whispers.

This is a stupid thing to dream about. I lean forward, trying to kiss him again, but his big hands gently pull on my shoulders and move me back.

This dream sucks. I frown. "What?"

"We can't. We shouldn't. You're hurt."

"I'm not…" I freeze. I blink. "What do you mean, I'm hurt?"

"The wolf knocked you into a boulder. I'm worried that you might have a concussion," Rylan says, pulling the sheets up so that I'm not sitting completely naked in front of him. "Is it okay if I check your head?"

On the word ‘concussion,' everything comes rushing back.

I was out for a run. I followed a strange scent. It was two of the beta's close friends, guys who are pretty tight with Zander, which is the only reason that I recognized the scent. I don't know their names, but I do remember that they smelled like Zander.

I remember running. Coming around a very large boulder, one several stories tall. The two wolves in front of me wanted to fight. Then, a huge wolf with midnight-black fur charged out of nowhere at them.

I lean back, taking the sheets with me. They fall away from Rylan, which makes me realize that he's butt naked in my bed.

In my apartment.

I never dream of Rylan here. I always dream of him in his little cabin that was at the edge of the pack lands, not too far from my mom, where he lived for a while before he….

I can't help the hiss of breath that I suck in. "This is a dream."

"If you think that, I really need to check your head…" He reaches forward.

I growl at him, my wolf rising to the surface. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I think it's a little late for that, and I just want to make sure."

"Do. Not. Touch. Me," I spit.

Rylan sits back. "Terra…"

"You're dead."

The words hang in the air between us. It's an accusation. It's a statement.

It's a plea for him to answer.

Rylan sighs. I can see every single individual strand of muscle in his pecs as they move with the motion.

"You're dead. They told me you were missing. Presumed dead," I say again.

Inside, I'm begging.

Please let this be a dream. Please don't let this be real.

Because if this is real, if I really just kissed Rylan James…

He sighs again, and it looks like he's doing his best to keep his shit together.

"Is that what they told you?"

In that moment, with those few words, my world shatters.

Again.

Rylan leavesme alone to dress. While my head feels a little groggy, a quick catalogue of my body lets me know there's no permanent damage. One of my ankles is a little tender, but that should clear up soon. I manage to get myself composed. When I come out, he's wrapped a towel around himself like a kilt, and while it covers up anything that couldn't be shown on live television, it does nothing to hide his muscular thighs. They remind me, painfully, of the fact that Rylan was a champion rugby player in high school.

I guess that hasn't changed.

I breeze by him, hustling to my kitchen to make some coffee. I get at least halfway into the process before Rylan speaks. "I think you should have some water."

That sets me off. I turn on him, my temper flaring. "I think you should have told me to get some water at any point in the last two years."

He looks down. "Terra…"

"Where were you?" I whisper.

I have many more questions than that.

Why didn't you come back for me? What happened? Where did you go?

Why did you leave me?

He looks away. "I can't tell you that."

I blink. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"Terra…"

This is too much. My head is starting to pound, and it's not from the fact a wolf slammed me into a boulder.

It's him.

I can't have him here. He looks… he's real. He's here, standing in my kitchen, acting like it's the most normal thing in the world.

He's real, and I can't handle this.

"Get out," I whisper.

Rylan shakes his head. "I have to stay…"

"No. You really don't. You did such a great job of leaving and disappearing two years ago, you can do it again."

"Terra…"

I point to the door. "Get. Out."

He stares at me. I can't tell what he's thinking, but I know it isn't something that I want.

I want him gone.

I've spent so long fantasizing about what my life would be like if Rylan appeared in it again, and right now, I want nothing more than to have him out of it.

"I can't," he says. "There's so much you don't know, Terra."

"So tell me. Or wait," I say, holding up a hand as he opens his mouth again. "Let me guess. You can't."

"It's not because I'm trying to keep things from you," he says softly.

Oh, you have to be joking. "Spare me the whole martyr routine. If you really loved me, if you cared about me then or now, then you'd just tell me."

"What if it meant that I was keeping you safe?"

"Bullshit," I spit.

Rylan steps back like I slapped him.

Good.

"Bull. Shit," I repeat. I move closer to him, my rage hitting epic levels. "You know what? I'm not buying that. Men say stupid shit like that all the time. Oh, don't love me because I'll just hurt you. I'm a bad man, and I'm keeping you safe by staying away. Those are fucking excuses," I snap.

Rylan blinks. I almost never cuss, so I'm happy that he understands the gravity of the situation.

"They say stuff like that when they're too scared to man up and do something about it. You're a shitty person who hurts the people you love? Get better. You're a problem, and you think people will hate you for it? Tell them how big of a problem you are and let them decide whether or not they want in. When you sit and do this whole lone ranger routine, it's not brave, and it's not selfless. It's cowardly. It's a way to run away without feeling responsible for abandoning me. So either tell me what the hell is going on, or get out of my apartment," I say, pointing at the door.

The muscle in Rylan's jaw twitches. I see him run through a laundry list of things that he wants to say. But every one of them must come up short of the boundary I put down.

Because, instead of just telling me what was happening, or why he was back, or even saying what happened two years ago, Rylan looks at me for one more minute.

He dips his head.

And he leaves.

I stare in shock at the place where he stood not five seconds ago. I can hear him pad down the creaky stairs that lead up to my apartment, and I resist the urge to run over to the back window to see if he goes away.

I know what I'll see.

A black wolf, bigger than most, with electric blue eyes. Slinking off into the darkness.

Instead of watching Rylan leave, which is a sight that I never thought I'd have to suffer ever again, I sit down on my couch.

Rylan's smell lingers in my apartment, and it makes me want to throw up.

He's not dead.

Part of me feels almost validated. I knew that he wasn't dead. Clearly, he's been around. He knew exactly where I lived, which tells me that unless he just took a wild guess, he's seen me come home before. He knew that I left from my mom's hose for a run, because it's not like she lives in a well-traveled area.

He followed me today. He's been following me.

So the fact that I've felt him, smelled his scent, that I've noticed the hair on the back of my neck prickle for the last two years?

It really was him.

I kind of want to tell my mom. But that would be a terrible idea. She would just worry.

I don't need her to worry.

Maybe I should tell the alpha? That seems reasonable, too…

I sigh.

I'm tired. My head hurts. My heart hurts. I feel like I'm going to collapse right here, and I'm in my own apartment.

I'll tell Thorne. Tomorrow.

I lock all my doors, then move some furniture in front of them for good measure. I have no idea how much Rylan knows about me, including where I keep my spare key, but I'm not about to find out.

I don't think he would hurt me. He's had a long time to do that, if he wanted to.

However, I don't exactly want to see him right now, either.

When I go to lie down in my bed, I take some sleeping pills.

The last thing I want is to dream about Rylan.

Because even though I'm furious, that kiss lingers in my mind.

It's the type of kiss you never forget.

And I have a bad feeling that I'm going to think about it way, way too much before I figure out what the hell is going on with him.