CHAPTER 2 - EDGE OF A DREAM

Rosemary drifted off to sleep, and the heavy weight of her real life slowly faded away. Soon, the dark, cramped basement room disappeared. She opened her eyes to a beautiful, familiar world made of soft moonlight and silver mist.

She was standing at the edge of a massive pack house. Even though she came to this place almost every night in her sleep, she never got over how big and grand it was. It looked like a palace, with high stone walls and glowing windows that stretched into the sky. It was much larger and more beautiful than her real pack house. But tonight, Rosemary didn't care about the building. Her eyes went straight to the man standing by the trees.

A wave of pure happiness washed over her. He was finally here. He hadn't come to her dreams for several weeks, and she had felt incredibly lonely without him. The real world had been so dark, and she had missed his warmth terribly. But as she walked up to him, the pain from her day made her pout. She crossed her arms and decided to scold him.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. "You left me all alone for weeks. I needed you."

The tall man looked at her, his intense, piercing eyes softening instantly. He stepped closer, bringing the scent of winter air and pine with him. He looked genuinely sorry.

"I am so sorry, little one," his deep voice rumbled, vibrating right through her chest. "There was trouble. Rogues attacked, and I had to fight a dangerous battle at my pack's border. For weeks, I barely slept. And when I finally did close my eyes, my mind was entirely blank. I was just too tired to dream. I tried to come to you, I promise."

Rosemary looked up at his face. He looked incredibly fierce. He had a strong, sharp jawline, a few faint battle scars, and a powerful body that radiated absolute authority. He looked like a king, a true leader of wolves. Looking at him made her heart ache with a familiar sadness. She knew the rules of the real world all too well. If this man were real, a powerful, dominant alpha like him would never even look at a weak, broken Omega like her. He would walk right past her. He certainly wouldn't stand around for hours just to listen to her talk.

Usually, their dream meetings were simple and happy. They only ever talked about the beautiful weather in the dream, or he would tell her stories about running through endless forests. But tonight, Rosemary felt restless and heavy. The cruel words from Anna and the other Omegas were still ringing in her ears. The pain of being twenty and mateless felt like a physical weight on her chest.

She looked into his dark, comforting eyes, and a tear finally slipped down her cheek.

"What is wrong?" he asked gently, reaching out a large, warm hand to wipe the tear away. His touch felt so real, it made her shiver. "Did someone hurt you?"

"They always hurt me," Rosemary whispered, her throat tight. "Today was just harder. They poured water all over me. They called me baggage. They reminded me that my wolf is broken, and that nobody will ever want me. I am twenty, and I am completely alone."

The man's expression turned incredibly dark and angry. His shoulders tense, and for a second, his eyes flashed a dangerous, predatory gold. Even though it was just a dream, Rosemary could feel the raw power rolling off him. He hated seeing her sad.

"You are not broken," he said, his voice fierce and commanding. "And you are not baggage. If I were there, no one would ever dare to lift a finger against you. I would tear down anyone who made you cry."

Rosemary let out a sad, soft laugh. "But you aren't there. You are just a shadow in my mind. When I wake up, the magic goes away, and I am just a floor-scrubber again."

She stepped even closer to him, gripping the front of his shirt. She could feel the steady beat of his heart. She felt a sudden, desperate longing inside her soul. She was so tired of being unloved.

"I wish you were real," she whispered softly, burying her face against his warm chest. "I wish you could walk out of my mind and into the real world. I wish you were real... and I wish you were my mate."

The man grew completely still. He wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her so tightly against him that she could barely breathe. He buried his face in her dark hair, inhaling deeply.

"I am real somewhere, little one," he murmured into her hair, his voice filled with a strange, heavy emotion that she couldn't quite understand. "Hold on. Just hold on for me."

But before she could ask him what he meant, the silver mist began to fade, and the morning light started to pull her back to reality.