Nightmares of the Past

POV: Arabella

It has been a very long time since the visceral, blood-soaked nightmares of the rogue attack last plagued my sleep. Yet here I lay, trapped in the stifling darkness of the bedroom, paralyzed beside the man who claims to be my mate. The phantom pressure of his fingers still burns around my wrists. The memory of him pinning me to the plaster wall replays in a relentless loop. His heavy body crushing against mine. His hot breath ghosting over my skin as he laid out his twisted plan to use me, to mark me only after Daphne provides him with an Alpha heir. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for the numb void of sleep to wash away the disgust, but my traitorous mind offers no mercy. Instead, the emotional exhaustion drags me backward through time, forcing me to silently relive the worst horror of my life. The shadows of the quiet bedroom dissolve. The scent of Mateo’s expensive cologne fades, replaced by the sharp, metallic tang of cold night air and trampled synthetic grass.

In the theater of my mind, I am instantly transported back to the stadium. It is the tense final quarter of the Packlands Championship game. The massive crimson numbers on the scoreboard glow against the pitch-black sky. There are only forty seconds left on the clock. My brothers' team sits just six yards away from a game-winning touchdown. I stand at the very front of the crowded stands, my hands gripping the cold iron bars of the metal divider so hard my knuckles turn white. I watch with bated breath as my oldest brother, Declan, bounces lightly on his toes in the quarterback position. He spins the football in his mud-stained hands, his intense gaze scanning the defensive line. A few yards away, our brother Callum shifts his stance, planting his cleats deep into the turf.

All I can hear is the frantic roar of my own blood rushing past my ears. My brothers have pushed their bodies through agonizing daily training sessions, working themselves to the bone for a chance to stand on this field today. Securing this title means everything to them. The tension in the stadium is a living, breathing entity.

"Let's go, Varg!" a lone voice shouts from the stands.

The chant catches fire. Hundreds of heavy boots stomp against the metal bleachers, sending rhythmic vibrations straight up my legs. The crowd screams our family name. The timer ticks down. Ten seconds. The center snaps the ball. Callum explodes off the line of scrimmage, sprinting toward the end zone. The opposing team swarms in his direction, their eyes locked onto him. It is the perfect distraction. Declan tucks the football tight against his chest. He lowers his shoulder and rushes forward, pushing off the ground with immense power. He launches his body into the air, vaulting straight over a massive defensive lineman, and clears the final yards. He breaks the plane just as the buzzer blares.

The stadium erupts into deafening cheers. Overcome with immense pride and pure joy, I recklessly vault over the cold metal divider. I hit the turf running, sprinting across the field with total abandon. I throw myself directly into my brothers' sweaty, triumphant arms. Callum catches me, swinging me around in a dizzying circle while laughing at the top of his lungs. He tosses me high into the air, and Declan catches me on the way down. The rest of the team swarms us, jumping and shouting. The older wolves in the stands tip their heads back, releasing long, victorious howls into the night sky, while the juveniles scream until our throats turn raw.

"We did it," Declan breathes out, clapping his teammates on the shoulder. He steps back as his mate, Marcella, pushes her way through the cheering crowd. She is stunning, wrapping her arms around Declan's neck. They look like the perfect future leaders of our pack, the ideal Beta couple coming into their prime.

Amidst the wild celebration, Callum wipes the sweat from his forehead. He frantically looks around the chaotic field. "Where is Dad?" he asks, his voice tight.

My heart twists. Callum constantly seeks the validation and approval of our father, the acting Beta of the Veridia Pack. He just played the game of his life to prove he is worthy of following in Declan’s footsteps. I scan the sidelines, desperate to find him. A familiar figure bursts through the gate near the track. I beam with excitement, pointing a finger toward the sidelines.

"I'm here!" I announce, grabbing Callum’s arm. "Dad actually came! He's running toward us right now!"

Callum's face lights up with a brilliant smile. But the warm glow of the celebration shatters in a terrifying, singular instant. I look over at Declan. His relaxed, victorious demeanor drastically shifts into pure panic. The color drains from his face. Without a single word of explanation, he lunges forward and roughly shoves me away. His hands push me directly toward Marcella.

I stumble backward, catching my balance just in time to look back at the sidelines. My dad is not running to celebrate with us. He is frantically waving his hands in a desperate motion. His face is a twisted mask of sheer terror.

"Run!" Callum screams at us, his voice cracking with fear.

From the dark, shadowed edges of the treeline, a chorus of demonic howls pierces the night. Massive, feral rogue wolves begin to pour into the stadium lights. They spill over the chain-link fences like a tidal wave of nightmares—huge, deformed beasts with matted fur and jaws dripping with saliva. Their eyes glow with unnatural bloodlust.

Complete pandemonium consumes the athletic field. The celebratory cheers morph into blood-curdling screams. Marcella grabs my arm with bone-bruising force. I lose my grip on Callum.

"Declan!" I scream, twisting around, but the sea of panicking bodies swallows my brothers whole.

"Bella, stay with me!" Marcella shouts over the deafening roar of the crowd.

She doesn't try to push through the stampeding pack members. Instead, she drags me forcefully beneath the heavy metal bleachers. The space underneath is dark, filled with steel support beams and the metallic scent of fresh blood. We weave through the shadows, dragging a few terrified classmates from my gym class along with us. I stumble over something soft. I look down to see my algebra teacher staring back at me with dead, empty eyes. Her throat is torn wide open, blood pooling around her head. A scream rips from my lungs as I scramble away from her body.

We press our backs against a concrete pillar. Marcella aggressively shields us, growling a fierce command for everyone to stay directly behind her. But the shadows shift. Two massive, drooling rogue wolves step into the dim light ahead of us. We turn to flee, only to find two more monsters blocking the other end of the narrow corridor. We are cornered.

"The tunnel," I cry out, pointing toward a small opening near the parking lot.

"Go!" Marcella orders.

She makes the ultimate sacrifice. Without a second of hesitation, bones crack and reshape as she shifts into her wolf form. She snarls, throwing her body forward to clash with the rogues, buying us precious seconds. She turns her large head back, shoving me forcefully away with her snout, a silent command to run.

I take charge, relying purely on the emergency drills beaten into us during gym class. I grab the sobbing girl next to me. "Listen to me! Remember the drills! Run in a zigzag pattern toward the safety of the main building!"

"What about you?" she cries, her face smeared with dirt and tears.

"I am right behind you! Don't stop until you reach the doors!" I promise them.

The girls break into a sprint. I turn on my heel, my boots slipping on the blood-slicked gravel, but before my feet can carry me to safety, a blinding, agonizing pain erupts in my body. I let out a blood-curdling scream. The massive jaws of two rogue wolves clamp down on my shoulder. Their razor-sharp teeth sink deep into my muscle, crushing the bone beneath. The sheer force of their attack rips my feet off the ground. They drag me backward through the dirt and gravel, pulling me away from the stadium lights and toward the dense, suffocating darkness of the trees.

I kick, I claw at the dirt, screaming for help until my throat tastes like copper. Suddenly, the chaotic night is pierced by Callum’s recognizable, booming howl.

The sharp teeth leave my torn flesh. I crash into the dirt, crying out as my brother’s newly shifted, massive black wolf leaps directly over my body. Callum forcefully clashes with the monsters, throwing his own body into the fray to save my life.

"Callum!" I scream his name, trying to reach for him.

But my body is paralyzed by shock and excruciating pain. I lie there helpless, choking on the thick, metallic taste of my own blood. I am forced to watch in agonizing detail as those demonic monsters swarm my brother. They sink their teeth into his dark fur, dragging him to the ground. They brutally rip my sixteen-year-old brother limb from limb. The horrific sound of tearing flesh and snapping bones echoes over the screams of the crowd.

Desperate to survive, I drag my broken body through the dirt. My fingers dig into the cold earth, crawling pitifully toward the faint, flickering glow of the parking lot lights. I sob for my daddy over and over again, leaving a thick trail of blood in my wake.

But the rogues catch up to me. A massive beast pounces onto my back, driving the breath from my lungs. Its claws tear viciously into my leg, ripping through muscle and tendon, while pinning my already wounded shoulder flat against the earth. I scream until my vocal cords tear, waiting for the killing bite.

Suddenly, a ferocious, earth-shaking roar eclipses my screams. The sound carries an ancient, commanding power that freezes the monsters in their tracks.

A massive, luminescent silverback wolf—the young Lycan King—bursts from the darkness. His silver fur glows under the harsh stadium lights. He descends upon the rogues like an avenging god, slaughtering them without a single ounce of mercy. He snaps spines and rips throats out in a blur of lethal motion.

The rogue standing over my broken body cowers. It lowers its stance, attempting to flee from the King's wrath. But pure survival instinct and blinding rage take over my shattered body. I reach out and grab its furry leg in a desperate death grip. My mind locks onto a single, vengeful thought: if I am dying tonight, this monster is coming straight to hell with me.

In a panic, the rogue snaps its jaws. It frantically tears its teeth into my soft stomach. It thrashes its head, ripping through my flesh in a desperate bid to escape my hold. I scream in agony, but I refuse to let go. I dig my nails deeper into its matted fur.

A second later, the luminescent silver blur of the King crashes into the beast. He finally rips the rogue away from me, tossing its lifeless body aside.

I fall back against the cold dirt. Hot blood rapidly fills my collapsing lungs. The metallic taste chokes me. I stare blankly up at the bright stadium lights I had once loved so much. I open my mouth, but my body is unable to draw in a single breath. The agonizing pain dulls to a freezing cold numbness. The blinding lights slowly fade into darkness.

The nightmare dissipates, leaving me gasping in the silent bedroom.

My eyes snap open. I stare up at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, my chest heaving as I try to pull real, clean oxygen into my lungs. Sweat slicks my skin. I trace the phantom scars on my stomach and shoulder with a trembling hand. I lie here thinking that the night my family was slaughtered was probably the worst thing that could have ever happened to my life. I survived a massacre. I survived physical mutilation. I survived watching my own brother die a brutal death trying to save me.

Yet, as the terror of the memory recedes, another sound fills the quiet room.

I feel the steady, rhythmic breathing of the man sleeping soundly at my back. Mateo. The very man who swore his eternal love and unwavering devotion to me just hours ago. The man who trapped me against a wall and coldly explained how he plans to cast me aside until his other chosen mate provides him with an heir.

A new, horrific truth settles heavy in my chest. He sleeps peacefully, indifferent to the fact that he is systematically tearing my soul apart. I survived the physical slaughter of the rogues, but the monster currently sleeping in my bed is destroying me from the inside out. He orchestrates my destruction with a calm smile, proving that betrayal from the one you love is a terror all its own.