Dark Wolf (Claimed by Wolves 3)

And I hope to God we’re ready when that day comes.

4

Sable

I’m standing at the edge of the grave my mates dug for my uncle, watching as dirt rains down on his bloody face. It’s raining, and the raindrops keep washing away the soil and the blood.

The shifters kick harder, pushing buckets of dirt into the grave, but still, it never covers the body. Dirt leeches away from Clint as the rain continues to pour.

Overhead, dark clouds gather, but they don’t feel like rain clouds. This is different. This is something I recognize. The darkness creeps into the forest clearing, casting Uncle Clint’s face into shadow. That insidious evil surrounds me, tendrils of smoke wrapping around my limbs like hands. I fought this energy the night I transitioned to witch. This hideous monster that wanted me to hurt my mates.

But I don’t think I can fight it now. It’s too strong.

And it’s a part of me.

Far below, my uncle’s eyes snap open, staring straight up at me.

I wake up with a start, ripping myself out of the dream.

I’m on my back in bed, staring blankly at a ceiling I don’t recognize. Magic churns beneath my skin, coupled with a strange numbness that permeates my arms, my legs, even my face. I sit up and hold out my hands to see blackness filling the scars on my skin.

Although the sight is vaguely horrifying, I’m too numb to react. I just watch the darkness crawl across my skin for several moments before it vanishes.

But the strange numbness remains.

I glance around me, noting the three men sleeping soundly on the bed. They’re touching me in their sleep, laying claim even as they dream, but I feel… nothing. I look at them and I feel nothing. None of the love and desire that I know should be there. None of the affection or trust.

Almost like they’re strangers.

Then Trystan’s eyes blink open. In the dim bedroom, his turquoise irises look almost gray, but the moment our eyes meet, the numb feeling evaporates. All of my feelings for him—for all of my mates—rush back in as if a spell has been broken.

Trystan smiles lazily, his fingers trailing possessively up my hip. “Morning, beautiful.”

He follows his touch up with a kiss to my bare skin beneath the hem of my sleep shorts, and fire tingles through me, chasing away the last of the strange feeling I awoke with. But it doesn’t chase away the worry.

For a moment, I didn’t feel like me. It was like something else had control of my body, and it wasn’t anything good.

As Dare stirs behind him, Trystan sits up and rubs away the sleep from his eyes. He studies me, his brows pulling together. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

Archer has been waking up slowly, and at that, he bolts upright, jostling my legs. “What’s going on? Something’s wrong with Sable?”

“More nightmares?” Dare grunts, sliding his back against the headboard and giving Trystan more room to maneuver.

They’re all used to my nightmares, so it would be an easy out. I could just agree with Dare, and they’d all do their best to soothe away the fear. But I don’t want to lie to them. If I lie about what happened, even by omission, that secret will fester and turn toxic.

I can’t do that. I can’t lie to them or withhold parts of myself from them. They’re my mates, and I want them to trust me just as much as I trust them. Lying to protect myself, or to hide the fear I feel about this thing inside me, would just strain the bond between us.

“I had nightmares,” I say softly. “But that’s not the worst part.”

Archer scoots closer and takes my hand. “Tell us.”

I give them a quick rundown of how I felt upon waking up—the way I seemed to be outside my own body, every part of me numb and out of my control. How I looked at them and barely recognized them or even felt our mate bond until Trystan opened his eyes and chased the feeling away.

Trystan and Archer exchange concerned glances over my head, but all three men reach out to touch me.

“It’s okay, Sable. It’s all right,” Archer says firmly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and tugging me against his chest. “Whatever caused it, we’ll figure it out and fix it.”

Trystan’s hands come to rest on my thighs, and he rubs my skin soothingly. “Archer’s right. We know what we’re up against better than we used to, and that’s a good thing. It’s just a matter of helping you control it.”