Chapter 17: The Nightmare Is Real

Chapter 17: The Nightmare Is Real

I was barely conscious.

The world swayed around me, my limbs heavy, my breath ragged. My heart struggled to keep up, weak from the blood loss, from the trauma of Blaze’s fangs piercing my skin.

I felt like a hollowed-out husk.

Like something had been stolen from me.

And yet, despite the overwhelming weakness, I could still feel the tension crackling in the air between them—Blaze and Reed.

Two creatures.

Two predators.

Two monsters.

Fighting over something as insignificant as me.

"He’s mine first," Reed growled, stepping forward, his voice low and deadly.

Blaze only chuckled darkly.

"Aah, Reed," he mused, tilting his head in amusement. "I didn’t know you were into men."

My stomach twisted.

Even in my delirium, I could tell Blaze was playing with him—baiting him.

Reed’s jaw clenched.

His hands curled into fists.

"I’m not," he snapped. Then his silver eyes cut to me, burning with rage. "This isn’t about that."

His glare was so intense it felt like my skin was peeling away.

I couldn’t move. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Didn’t dare move.

Because Reed looked like he was barely holding himself back.

Like something was coiling beneath his skin.

Something vicious.

Something that wanted out.

Blaze sighed, looking almost bored.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time before you showed up," he murmured, stretching his neck. "Should I take this as a challenge?"

Reed let out a low, warning snarl.

Not a human sound.

Not even close.

It was animalistic.

Feral.

Something about it made my blood turn to ice.

I tried to scoot back, but my body was sluggish, drained.

Blaze noticed.

His eyes flickered with satisfaction.

"You took too much from him," Reed spat, his voice like venom. "You had no right."

Blaze raised a brow. "I had every right."

Their eyes locked.

Something invisible passed between them—something unspoken, something ancient.

For the first time since I met Blaze, he looked... serious.

Like he knew whatever he just did had crossed a line.

A line that even creatures like them didn’t dare to cross.

The wind around us shifted.

Cold. Unnatural.

I shivered involuntarily.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Trying to convince myself that I wasn’t seeing things.

That the darkness wasn’t warping into something else.

Something alive.

But I was wrong.

Because right before my body finally gave in to the blood loss, I saw it—Reed was no longer Reed.

He was... changing.

His body contorted, bones snapping in ways that should have been impossible.

Muscles rippled under his skin, shifting like they were being stitched together from the inside out. His fingers lengthened into black, razor-sharp claws. His back hunched as his spine stretched, pushing out fur—thick, black fur that swallowed the moonlight.

Then his face.

Oh, God.

His face.

It elongated, his nose and mouth pulling into a massive, snarling muzzle lined with razor-sharp fangs.

His silver eyes glowed like molten steel, locked onto Blaze with nothing but pure, murderous rage.

A huge dog.

No.

Not just a huge dog.

Something bigger.

Darker.

A creature that shouldn’t exist.

That couldn’t exist.

And yet—there he was.

A wolf.

Towering over both of us, muscles coiled with the promise of violence, lips curled back in a deadly snarl.

A single bite from those monstrous fangs and I’d be done.

Great.

Not only do I have a vampire on my back, but a werewolf too.

I was so not going to last long.

Might as well die now.

I felt the world tilting beneath me, my limbs too heavy to move, my breath shallow.

Blaze just smirked.

"Now, that’s more like it," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "I was wondering when you’d stop pretending to be human."

Reed snarled.

Blaze only laughed.

Dark. Cruel. Hungry.

Then, with no warning—

Reed lunged.

Blaze moved just as fast.

The air between them shattered as they clashed, a blur of motion, a snarl of fangs, of teeth, of pure violence.

I tried to move—tried to run.

But the world tilted violently.

My vision darkened.

And then—

Nothing.

I collapsed.

Sinking into the shadows.

*********

I woke up gasping.

My lungs burned, like I’d been drowning in something thick and heavy, but the moment I sat up, the air felt too thin.

Like I wasn’t breathing in oxygen, but something else.

Something tainted.

My entire body ached. A deep, gnawing pain spread from my neck down to my spine, like I’d been wrung out, every last drop of strength sucked from my bones. My head throbbed, a dull, pulsing ache behind my eyes.

I tried to move—flinched.

Something was wrong.

My skin crawled, a cold sweat breaking over me as I realized...

I was still in my disguise.

My hands flew to my head, fingers digging into the strands of the wig that should have been gone. I never slept in this ridiculous thing. Never. It was itchy, uncomfortable, and yet—it was still there.

Still perfectly in place.

And my chest—oh God, my chest.

The bandages wrapped tight, my breasts rebelling against the restriction, making it hard to breathe.

Why?

Why was I still wearing this?

Hadn’t I—?

I forced myself to my feet, legs wobbling like I was walking on glass, and stumbled towards the mirror.

My breath hitched as I stared at the mirror.

No.

No, no, no, this wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be real.

I had to be dreaming.

But the proof was right there—staring back at me, mocking me.

My reflection looked haunted, my skin a shade too pale, my lips slightly parted as I struggled to breathe, to process.

This isn’t me.

I was still in my disguise, my wig still in place, my chest bound uncomfortably, but that wasn’t what made my stomach twist into a knot so tight I thought I’d be sick.

No.

What made my world tilt was the small, dark red stains on my collar.

Blood.

Not just any blood—my blood.

I could feel my heartbeat slamming against my ribs, my pulse racing erratically as I reached up with shaking hands.

Please.

Please let it be a dream.

Let me be wrong.

A sick feeling twisted in my gut, coiling tighter and tighter like a noose around my ribs.

Because the as I continued to see my reflection—

I knew.

This wasn’t a dream.

This wasn’t some sick, twisted hallucination from an overactive imagination.

No.

It was all real.

My breath hitched as I caught sight of my collar.

Dark, dried stains.

Red.

Rusty.

Not sweat.

Not dirt.

Blood.

My blood.

But the second my fingers brushed against my neck, I felt it.

The two small punctures.

The skin was tender, slightly swollen—undeniable proof that what happened last night wasn’t a dream.

It was real.

I swayed, gripping the edge of the sink to steady myself as a cold wave of terror crawled up my spine.

I was bitten.

By a vampire.

By Blaze.

I felt them.

Two small holes.

Like tiny mosquito bites.

Only... not.

Because mosquitoes don’t have fangs.

And they don’t suck you dry until you feel like a walking corpse.

I staggered back, the room suddenly spinning, my stomach twisting with the weight of the truth.

The airport.

The horrors.

The wolves—their massive, shifting bodies, their twisted laughter as they pinned helpless humans to the ground, ripping them apart in ways worse than death.

The vampires, feeding like it was some kind of sick, never-ending banquet.

The memory slammed into me so fast I nearly collapsed—his cold hands gripping my chin, the feeling of his fangs piercing my skin, the way my blood was sucked from my body like I was nothing more than a meal.

The dizziness.

The pain.

The helplessness.

And then—

Reed.

His voice. His rage. His transformation into—God, no.

I gasped, my legs nearly giving out beneath me.

Reed wasn’t human either.

He was a werewolf.

And I had seen it.

I had seen his bones snap and shift, had watched his eyes burn silver, had heard the snarl that wasn’t human.

I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.

Everything was wrong.

This entire place was wrong.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

I needed to leave.

Now.

I turned away from the mirror, feeling like I was going to crawl out of my own skin as panic clawed at my throat.

But then a thought hit me.

Sara.

She knew something.

She had always been scared, always been jumpy. She had warned me—not properly, not directly, but she knew.

And she let me walk into this nightmare blind.

She let this happen.

I felt a spark of rage burn through my fear, enough to push me forward.

I needed answers.

I needed to find her.

And this time—

I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

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