Chapter 7: Dreams of the night

Aurora’s POV

As I lay my head down on my pillow, sleep doesn’t come so easily. My mind is racing and going over everything that has happened over the past week. But when it finally does, it pulls me under like a slow tide gentle at first, then all-consuming.

And the moment my eyes shut, I’m no longer in my bed. I dream of them. Of both of them.

Rowan stands in a moonlit clearing, the forest around him silent and silver. The wind carries the scent of pine and something warmer like a memory I haven’t lived yet.

He’s watching me with those storm-gray eyes, calm and steady, like the storm has passed but the power still lingers in the air. His voice is soft when he speaks.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Not with me.” There’s no judgment in his gaze. Just quiet strength. Warmth. Safety.

When he reaches out and brushes my cheek, my entire body stills like I’ve finally landed after falling through the sky. Tingles run all through my body from head to toe.

But just as I lean into him, the light begins to flicker. The moon disappears behind heavy clouds and the forest shifts.

And suddenly, I’m somewhere completely different but in a way the same.

The trees are taller here darker, their silhouettes jagged and whispering but it’s not scary. Not exactly. It feels.. deeper. Like something ancient lives in the roots. And that’s when I see him.

Zander.

His green eyes shine through the dark like emerald fire, but the anger I always brace myself for.. it isn’t there he’s different.

There’s something almost vulnerable in the way he stands like he’s not sure if he should move closer or walk away entirely.

“You always look for Rowan first, never me,” he says, voice low. Not accusing, just honest.

I take a hesitant step toward him. “Zander, you're always mean to me, what do you expect me to do?”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t look away. “That’s what I’m used to doing.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, looking frustrated with himself, then glances back at me.

“I say all the wrong things,” he admits softly. “Push when I should pull and pull away when I want nothing more than to stay.”

The wind stirs around us, cool and soft. “But I see you, Aurora. I always have since we were kids.” My breath catches.

He steps closer now, more certain. His fingertips graze mine. The contact is brief, but it sends a shiver through me not of fear, but feeling. Raw and real going right down to my core. What is wrong with me?

“I’m not him,” he says, “but I’d still burn down the world to protect you.” And suddenly, the dream shifts again.

They’re both standing there now. Rowan to my left with a smirk on his perfect face and looking calm.

Zander to my right. With a smirk on his perfect face as well but fear and guilt in his eyes.

And for me I’m caught between them, eyeing them both from head to toe. The pull of both unbearable and impossible to ignore.

The ground hums beneath my feet. The wind grows louder, whispering in a language I don’t understand, but somehow know was meant for me.

And in their eyes, I see the same thing: A choice, a warning, and a promise that speaks volume. My heart pounds, not with fear, but something far more dangerous.

Curiosity, love, fear and even longing. Something I’m not ready to name yet because I know, deep down, nothing about this is ordinary.

Because something is coming. Something bigger than all of us. And once it arrives, nothing will ever be the same again.

I jolt awake and shoot out of the bed feeling tingles all through my body. What the hell was that?

Rowen's POV

The air tastes like static. That’s how I know he’s near. I feel it before I see him. It’s like an itch that you can’t scratch. Having another Alpha’s presence pressing against mine is like a challenge.

It’s in our nature territorial, and threatening. His energy tastes like iron and smoke, sharp and volatile. The kind of scent that doesn’t just warn you it dares you to react.

But I’m done pretending I won’t. Because Zander Blake’s been sniffing around what’s mine for too long. Not that Aurora knows she’s mine yet.

She doesn’t. But that doesn’t make it any less true. The mate bond may still be one-sided, but it burns like wildfire in my blood.

And watching her flinch every time he opens his mouth has pushed me to my edge. She hides it well, but I see it.

The way she tenses when he walks into a room. The way her fingers twitch when she hears his voice. And last night? She smiled at me.

It wasn’t much just a small, soft smile as we left class but it was real. She’s starting to trust me. And that means more than I can explain. Which is why this ends today.

I find Zander behind the east side of the school, near the edge of the woods. There’s a row of old, crumbling picnic tables back here, barely used except by kids skipping class or sneaking cigarettes.

He’s leaning against the brick wall like he’s been expecting me. “Rivers,” he says without looking up.

“Blake,” I answer, calm but cold.

He finally lifts his head, those storm-grey eyes meeting mine. “Took you long enough. Thought you might keep hiding behind your brooding stares and tragic past.”

I step closer, unbothered. “You got a problem with me?” “I’ve got a problem with you getting too close to things that don’t belong to you.”

The warning is clear. Too clear but so is my answer. “Aurora’s not a thing,” I say, voice tight. “And she doesn’t belong to you.”

His lips curl into a smirk, but his eyes don’t match it. “That right?”

“She’s my mate.” The words are out before I can stop them. And the moment I say them, the air shifts.

Zander pushes off the wall slowly, his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. “You really wanna throw that word around she can’t be your mate?” He growls out

“It means everything to me, and why can’t she be my mate? Hmm what just because your an Alpha?” I growled.

He laughs—sharp and joyless. “Funny. Because I’m pretty sure that she is my mate, not yours. She can’t have two mates, she's a human.”

My heart stutters.

He knew

He knew and still treated her like—

“Then why the hell have you been tormenting her?” I snap. “Why would you do that to your own mate?”

His jaw clenches, and for a second, something flickers in his expression. Shame? Regret? I don’t know. But then it’s gone, buried beneath the rage.

“Because I knew if I let myself get close, I wouldn’t be able to stop,” he snarls. “She’s human, Rivers. You think she can handle what we are? What we do?”

“She deserves the truth.”

“She deserves a choice,” he counters, stepping forward until we’re chest to chest. “And I wasn’t going to curse her with all of this.”

“You’re not protecting her. You’re hurting her.”

“Better that than ruin her.”

I stare him down, letting my wolf push forward, letting the energy roll off me in waves.

He growls. “Back off.”

“No.”

Then we shift. Not fully there’s no time or space for that—but just enough. Claws extending. Teeth sharpening. Muscles rippling beneath skin. Eyes glowing black with the weight of our wolves.

And then we crash into each other like thunder splitting the sky. Fists and claws fly.

The first blow knocks the breath from my lungs, but I recover fast Alpha reflexes kicking in. I duck his next swing and land a punch to his ribs that sends him staggering into the wall. He’s fast, though. Too fast.

Zander charges back with a roar, tackling me into the dirt. We roll across the gravel, claws raking, fists slamming, snarls filling the air.

This isn’t a fight between high school boys.

This is Alpha against Alpha.

It’s instinct, dominance, the primal urge to claim and defend what’s ours. He gets a hit under my jaw that makes my vision flash white, but I twist and grab his arm, slamming him down into the cracked pavement.

“She’s not afraid of me,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “She trusts me. Can you say the same?”

He snarls and kicks me off, scrambling to his feet.

“You think you can just waltz in and take her?” he spits. “Like you know her? Like you understand her?”

“I’m not the one who spent years trying to break her,” I snapped.

He lunges again, and we collide in a blur of fury and growls. His wolf is pushing harder now—desperate, reckless. Mine answers with ice focus, precision.

Eventually, I land a blow that knocks him back hard against the side of a dumpster. He slumps, breathing ragged, blood on his lip.

“Enough,” I say, stepping back. “This doesn’t have to be a war.”

He glares up at me. “Stay away from her.”

“No.”

His eyes flicker, torn between fury and something else—fear, maybe. Not for himself. But for her.

“She’s not ready,” he says, quieter now. “None of this is fair to her.”

“I know,” I reply honestly. “But I won’t lie to her. And I won’t treat her like she’s fragile. She’s stronger than you think.”

Zander says nothing for a long moment.

Then he looks away and mutters, "You can’t have her and I mean it.”

“We will see,” I promise.

And I mean it.

Later that week

Aurora sits beside me in Algebra again, and this time, her notebook’s open but her pen is still.

“You okay?” I ask, voice low.

She nods, distracted. “Just tired.”

I hesitate. “Want to get some coffee after school? Just talk. No pressure.”

She looks at me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

My heart lifts. Just a little.

She’s letting me in. One step at a time.

And I’ll be damned if I let anyone—even another Alpha—take that away from me.