The Moon Goddess Dream

Why do you hate him so much?" Anna asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. The early morning sun had just begun to rise, casting long golden beams that sliced through the quiet sky, spilling warmth over the waking world. The calm, gentle light should have been comforting, but it only highlighted the turbulence within her. Her emerald eyes, bright and intense, burned with an inner fire, reflecting the turmoil swirling in her mind.

The man before her stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin, hard line. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke. "Oh, such a sweetheart. Do you think I hate him just because my father chose him to be the last Golden Alpha? You’re mistaken, little one." He turned away sharply, his words low and sharp. "No, Anna. He took everything from me."

Her heart skipped a beat. His words landed like a physical blow, and Anna's confusion deepened. There was more to the story, far more than she could see. She watched him walk away, his rigid posture radiating a cold fury. He glanced back, briefly meeting her gaze. His eyes—fiery, glowing red—locked onto hers, a flash of intensity that sent a chill down her spine. In that fleeting moment, Anna saw something unexpected: raw, unguarded pain. It was fleeting, vanishing as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a calm that felt unnervingly predatory.

His nostrils flared as he took another step toward her. The air seemed to hum with a barely contained energy. "Do you know why I waited for this moment, little one?" His voice rumbled low, almost a growl, thick with emotion and danger. The tension around him was palpable, and Anna felt a thrill of fear run through her. She wanted to flee, but her feet felt rooted to the ground, her breath caught in her chest.

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mind was racing, but the tightening grip of fear was drowning out her thoughts. She had to understand—had to know what he meant, but every word only deepened the mystery.

The man didn't answer. Instead, the air seemed to grow heavier, more suffocating, stretching into an eerie silence between them. Time itself felt as if it had paused, the world holding its breath.

Suddenly, Anna felt herself jerk awake. Her heart pounded wildly, and her breath came in sharp gasps. The familiar sense of dread gripped her, as the panic from the dream flooded back. That dream again? The same feeling, the same sense of impending doom. She couldn’t shake the weight of it.

She stumbled out of the cab, disoriented, struggling to grasp the reality of the waking world. The London air was cold, the damp drizzle soaking into her skin. She stood frozen for a moment, taking in the misty city around her. The world felt off-kilter, distant, like she was walking through a dream. People bustled around her, but everything felt muted, as if she was watching life unfold from the sidelines.

A nearby group of tourists laughed, admiring the bright blooms in the flower market. The flowers were vibrant, alive with color, but Anna felt nothing. The world seemed draped in a fog of detachment. She tried to focus, to shake the unease, but it clung to her like a second skin.

She had to work. She had to do something to push the haunting thoughts from her mind. She forced herself to move, to focus on the tasks ahead.

The DRI building loomed ahead, its sleek glass exterior a comforting presence. Inside, the usual bustle felt distant, almost unreal. As Anna rode the elevator to the fifth floor, she couldn’t help but feel like she was suspended in a dream, disconnected from everything.

The Dream Research Institute, founded by the elusive Harry Camilton, was a place where dreams and reality blurred. It was a world of curiosity and groundbreaking research. To most people, it was a sanctuary for the mind. To Anna, it was just a job—a steady paycheck, a way to keep moving forward. But today, her thoughts felt fragmented, distracted by the eerie images from her dream.

As she entered her office, the familiar sight of papers and files did little to ground her. Her desk was scattered with work—mundane tasks that, on any other day, would feel like a routine she could slip into. Today, however, it felt like an anchor she couldn't hold onto.

The words her mother had often said echoed in her mind: “You have a gift, Anna. Never forget that.” She pushed them away, focusing instead on the tasks ahead. She couldn’t afford distractions. Not today.

The brief relief of seeing Ashley, the boss's secretary, was fleeting. The woman was charming, infuriatingly perfect, and always too confident for Anna’s liking. It was a rare reprieve to know she wasn’t around. Anna wasn’t in the mood for any of Ashley’s usual flirtations or passive-aggressive comments.

Her phone buzzed, and she groaned at the message from her boss, Mr. Faiz. “Bloody hell,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as the weight of the day descended on her.

There was no avoiding it. Mr. Faiz was efficient, demanding, and always watching. She steeled herself for the inevitable.

"Good morning, Mr. Faiz," she greeted, stepping into his office.

He didn’t look up from his computer, his sharp features unmoved. "Anna," he said tersely. "I need you to check with Clinton about the board meeting. The CEO is coming today. No mistakes."

"Yes, sir," she replied, already scribbling down notes.

"Also, make sure Clinton understands the security procedures for the Dreamers Device. We need to ensure it’s a priority for the board."

"Got it," she responded, her mind already turning toward the long list of things she needed to accomplish. The pressure was rising.

"And tell Clinton Mr. Camilton will be joining us. He knows what to do. The report needs to be on my desk before the end of the day."

"Understood," Anna said, though her voice betrayed her growing unease.

Mr. Faiz leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee. His gaze flicked to her, narrowing as he added, "And if you mess this up, we’ll all be jobless. Understood?"

Anna swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Good," he said, glancing at his watch. "And by the way, I need another coffee, Miss Brown."

"Right away, sir," she replied, turning to leave.

As she walked back into the corridor, the weight of her responsibilities seemed to press down on her. The day ahead would be filled with tasks and deadlines. But beyond the mundane chaos of her job, there was something else—something far darker, far more dangerous—lurking just beyond her reach. The man, his words, and the shadow that followed her dream. It was all connected, she could feel it. And she was about to find out just how deep the mystery ran.