2. Radley

Wolves.

This woman has to be insane. Right?

Neither of us has said a word since she dropped that information. This is the stuff from fairytales. It doesn't happen in real life. There's no such thing as clairvoyants or freaking men who turn into gigantic wolves.

But I have no way to explain finding myself in those pajamas, my grandma being gone, my bed slept in, and the wolf prints surrounding the cabin.

"I want to see them," I finally say.

Grandma nods without a word and carefully closes the book, laying it on the coffee table. When she stands from the couch and heads outside, I follow her out. She takes a right off the steps, and we don't have to walk far to see the first print. It's huge. I put both feet inside it, and it still spans way past them. "There looks like there are three distinct prints," Grandma says. "They look like they were pacing the perimeter."

"This can't be real," I say mostly to myself, but Grandma hears me anyway. She doesn't say anything; she just lets me try to process what she told me. "Why didn't they hurt me?"

"According to legends, wolf shifters aren't known to be violent. They only attack when they feel threatened, or someone is threatening their loved ones. However, they can also be unpredictable and are known for creating chaos."

"So, if this is true, there are people walking around that have huge fangs and red eyes."

"No. When they're human, they look human."

"How do you know so much about this?"

She nods her head, and we start walking around the rest of the cabin. "Your great-grandmother had a collection of lore for the area including that book in there. She passed it on to me when I was a teenager because I was fascinated. Radley, I know you don't want to believe me, but you need to. Your dreams are manifesting now, and they've caused you to sleepwalk. That's dangerous."

"I don't know how to stop it."

"You need to get them to find you while you're awake."

I stop dead in my tracks. "What?"

"Your mind calls out to them while you're sleeping. That's why you think it's a dream. But what happened last night wasn't a dream."

"Let me get this straight. You're telling me to find three men who can turn into bear-sized wolves. How would I even do that?"

"You need to concentrate on them. They'll find you."

She leaves without another word and goes back into the house. Once she's out of sight, I bend down and run my fingers over the biggest print. Something like recognition hits me, and I jerk my hand back with a gasp. I slowly reach out for the other one and start getting that tingly feeling again. This one is just slightly smaller but no less intimidating. The one right behind it is the smallest, almost half the size of the biggest print.

I decide to try what Grandma said and concentrate on them. I sit between all three prints and close my eyes, imagining their voices from last night. The raspy tone and the deep, almost animalistic tone. It doesn't take long before I start seeing my dream play out, except this time, I'm awake and see it from an outsider's perspective. It's eerie as hell watching my dream self come through the clearing.

"Who's there?"dream me asks, and when she spins around, red eyes are glowing in the forest.

"Nope," I say, jumping to my feet and dusting my jeans off. "Hell to the no."

I decide right then and there that I don't want to know.

I should have known saying I didn't want to know would make it worse. After saying goodbye to Grandma, I head to my evening shift at the diner. We've been crazy busy, but that didn't keep my mind from wandering.

If what Grandma said is true, that means anyone in this place could turn into a giant creature from my nightmares.

"Radley! Order up!" our cook, Cecil, calls out.

I quickly make my way over and load the plates onto a tray. Balancing it on my shoulder, I go over to the table and drop everything off. The bell above the door jingles, and I have to suppress a groan. I've been going non-stop for hours, and people just keep pouring in. Our hostess seats them in my section, and I take a few calming breaths before plastering a smile on my face and turning to them.

"Hi. My name is Radley, and I'll be your server tonight," I say, digging through my apron pocket for my notepad. Pen poised over the paper, I finally look up and stop breathing completely. Three very attractive men are staring back at me. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

The one closest to me on the left is tall, even sitting down. His hair is dark brown and short. His eyes are the same shade, and they feel like they're boring into my soul. "I'll have tea," he answers, his voice soft but deep.

"Same," the one beside him answers. His hair is a mass of dark blond curls. His green eyes are lingering over me in a way that would normally make me uncomfortable, but not with him.

"I'll have a chocolate shake." That voice raises the hair on my arms, and I turn to him slowly. His hair is jet black, and his eyes are a pale blue. Where the hell did these men come from?

"I'll give you a second to look over the menu. I'll be back for your order." I hightail it behind the counter and push into the kitchen. Leaning against the door, I try to calm my erratic heart.

"You okay, girl?" Cecil asks with a smile.

"Yeah. Just taking a breather."

"It's busy out there tonight, but you need to take a break."

I smile, even though I know our owner won't let me. This job barely pays the bills, but it's the only thing I can do in my small town without a college degree. I didn't get a scholarship for school, and my parents couldn't afford to send me. I'm smart, but my mind has always tended to wander, and I couldn't focus on my studies.

Finally getting my shit together, I go back out into the diner and grab their drinks. When I get back to the table, their menus look untouched. "Here you go," I say, setting the drinks on the table. "Are you ready to order?"

The one with the pale blue eyes tilts his head to the side. "You said your name is Radley?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"That's a pretty name," Curls says with a crooked grin. "I'm Bryce."

"Oh. It's nice to meet you," I say lamely.

"That's Nash," he says, jerking his thumb at the big guy beside him. "And that's Mason."

"Are you guys new here?"

Nash shakes his head. "Lived here all our lives."

"I've never seen you." It comes out accusatory, and I feel myself flush. "I just mean, I've lived here too and would remember you guys." Good going, Radley.

"We'll have the burgers," Mason says, pushing the menus toward me. When I try to grab them, he puts his hand on top and stops me. "The other server is stealing your tips."

"What?" My head snaps up to look at Rebecca, the other server, who's whispering quietly to our hostess, Kelly. "How do you know?"

"We watched her," Nash says, pulling my eyes to him. "Would you like us to say something?"

"What? No! I'll handle it." Even though that's a lie. I'm a non-confrontational person, so I'll just have to keep an eye on her. Mason finally lifts his hand from the menus, and I go behind the counter, placing their orders.

"Did you see the guys who walked in?" Rebecca asks Kelly. "I might have to pass one of them my number."

"Or all of them," Kelly laughs.

I feel a tug on my apron, and before I can grab it, Rebecca has my notepad out. She scribbles something on it and shoves it back into the pocket. "Make sure they get that."

Instead of dealing with them, I check on my other customers and make sure I grab my tips on the empty tables. When that's done, I grab a tray and start cleaning tables, feeling eyes on me the entire time. I refuse to turn around because somehow I know where they're coming from.

"Radley! Order up!"

I clear the last table, take the tray in the back for the dishes to be washed, and then grab the tray for my order. I load the burgers up and make my way over, hoping I don't trip over my feet. I set their plates in front of them and tuck the tray under my arm. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"The check," Mason answers. I barely suppress a sigh when I realize she wrote her number on the check. I slide it onto the table, trying to hide it under his plate before I walk away. He snatches it before I can and raises a brow. "Is this yours?" he asks, flashing the number at me.

"No." I can feel my face burning and peek up to see Rebecca staring.

Mason looks at it for a second before making a big show of ripping it to pieces and laying it to the side. Something about that fills my chest with warmth and gives me a sort of sick satisfaction that he didn't want it.

This night is looking up, after all.