AN: A big thanks to Cx3 and lettered for being wonderful betas.


PART I

The glowing light began to fade and his lungs burned as the wind whipped around him. He was racing through the woods, howls and laughter chasing him, branches and leaves reaching out to scratch at his clammy skin. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, but he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed desperately to reach that warm, glowing light … or did he need to distance himself from the cruel and rough barks behind him? He shook his head again, hoping that the confusion would dislodge itself. As he pushed forward, he realized that each new step felt heavier, slower. He let out a growl and surged forward as the yellow light flickered orange and a red glow pulsed deep from its center.

His running practically became a crawl, and his feet felt like anvils as he dragged them along the dry forest floor. As the red glow flickered, he heard a distant, tinkling laughter. Unlike the cruel snarls behind him, this laughter was warm. Familiar. Twinkling eyes like pools of warm caramel danced in front of him. A flash of fiery red curls. He reached out for the girl, not knowing if his hand would even catch anything. The vision flickered in front of him and disappeared with the light. Again, he reached out.

Not realizing his anvil feet had halted him in his tracks, he stumbled forward and fell hard onto the ground. The howls and jeers that he was trying to outrun grew closer and closer, circling around him. His eyes darted into the woods, searching for the animals closing in, but there was nothing except tall, dark trees and their bare branches. His gaze drew up into the ink black sky; a silver white moon loomed above. Unable to tear his gaze away, the trees bent towards him and the branches reached down and began to tear at his skin, like claws.


Wolf's body jerked awake before his mind could, and sat up feeling disoriented. Without realizing, he reached out to feel the familiar form next to him, but his hand clasped only air. His heart lurched into his throat when he saw that Scarlet wasn't sleeping next to him.

His panic intensified when he realized the house was too still. Too quiet. He lunged out of the bed, muscles tense and ready to race down the stairs when he heard the muffled voice. Edging towards the window and peering out, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw Scarlet's red curls glowing under the porch light. Wolf ran both hands through his hair. The muscles in his back tightened, shook, and then eased. He took a step back towards the bed, but his curiosity took a hold of him and he pushed himself against the window, nudging it open soundlessly. The cool night air curved its way into the room, bringing Scarlet's voice along with it.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

The glow of the port screen in Scarlet's hand faded and she turned to go inside. Wolf took three long strides and settled back under the covers before he could even hear Scarlet's footsteps ascending the stairs. The door clicked open and she tiptoed into the room. Wolf could tell by her labored steps that she was trying her hardest to not make a sound. He tried to pretend that he was still sleeping, but when she rustled under the covers he tilted his head up and looked at her.

Sheepishly she ducked her head. "Sorry!" she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I went downstairs for some water." She reached over and patted his arm before settling under the covers. Her breathing fell into a steady rhythm almost instantly.

Wolf reached over, but before he could wrap his arm around her and pull her against his body, he stopped himself. Why had she lied to him? Was she keeping secrets from him?

Wolf lay on his side, silently watching Scarlet sleep. Her chest rose up and down as her steady breathing lulled him into calmness. He reached over to brush a stray curl away from her face. She frowned. Normally this would have made him chuckle. He was used to the familiar gesture. But tonight, it made him sigh and turn away.


The clawing black branches grew thicker, closed in on him, tore at his flesh, buried themselves into his veins. A burst of blue light engulfed him and he was transported.

He felt weightless. Suspended in air. But he wasn't floating in air; he was floating in a thick blue liquid. The tree branches that burrowed their way into his skin were now thick, clear tubes, sprouting out of his arms, his legs, his chest. His whole body ached. All of his muscles felt tight, strained, even though he was lying motionless—frozen—in the suspension tube. His whole face throbbed. His eyes darted around him, and then he saw her. Waves of red hair floating above him, dark eyes looking into his. He waited for the wave of relief to flush over him, but it didn't come. Something was wrong. She was wrong. Her hair wasn't a fiery red that set his heart ablaze. It was much darker, almost like blood dried into the forest floor. And those eyes … There was nothing warm or gentle about those eyes. They were dark, nearly black, and bored into him so deeply, so cruelly. He flinched, cowering away. Levana.


Wolf's eyes fluttered open for the second time that morning, but this time instead of darkness, the warm glow of sunlight flooded the room. For the second time he reached out to feel Scarlet next to him, and for the second time she was gone.

He grabbed a grey shirt hanging on the armchair next to the window, still open from the night before, and pulled it over his head. Looking back towards the bed, he thought maybe he was grateful Scarlet was already up. The sheets and quilts that they shared were a tangle of twists and knots on his side of the bed. Had he thrashed around in the middle of the night? Had he woken her up and drove her away from him?

Wolf sighed and slumped into the arm chair. He had to admit to himself that the transition from life on the Rampion to Benoit Farms had been difficult for him—something he never expected. He pushed both hands through his hair and pulled them forward again, running them down his face to try and wipe the exhaustion away. Wolf didn't want to admit it, but he was happy on the Rampion. He had even been happy at Artemisia Palace even though their time there had been brief. But maybe, maybe, he wasn't happy at Benoit Farms.

Scowling at himself, he stood up. He was being absurd. He would be happy anywhere Scarlet was and Scarlet was happy here.

Wolf reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around the silent kitchen before his eyes fell onto a note scrawled with loopy red handwriting.

Z,

Running some errands in town. Taking grand-mère's mirror in to be replaced. Will be back this afternoon. Food in the oven for you.

Love,

Scarlet

He smirked at Scarlet's no-nonsense note, but a pang of guilt gripped his heart. Absentmindedly, he ran his fingers over the criss-cross lines of scratches scabbing over along the knuckles of his right hand. The memory of shattered glass and mirror returned to him. He had been so foolish.

The night they returned to Benoit Farms, Wolf had been on edge. He had gotten so used to the constant hum of the Rampion's engine under his feet and in his ears that the silence of a farm at night shocked him. Everything was so quiet that any little noise that broke it was like a gunshot in his ears—the chickens clucking, the distant meow of a stray cat, even the patter of Scarlet's footsteps in the house.

Scarlet called out to him from the kitchen and eager to be near her, he rushed towards the back of the house. That was when he saw it and it took him completely by surprise. A flash of pointed white teeth, a protruding jaw, wild hair. He instantly lunged towards it, his fist rocketing forward and smashing into the creature's face. The mirror cracked into a hundred pieces under his rock solid fist and the silver frame came crashing down.

He stood there—glass and mirror littered the floor around him—his horror reflecting Scarlet's. He apologized profusely, agony all over his face as Scarlet gingerly pulled him away and bandaged up his hand. Her touch was gentle, her voice soothing. She pressed her lips against each cut on his hand and the pain dulled away.

She insisted that he go to bed while she cleaned up the mess. He wanted to argue, but he knew to keep his mouth shut when she placed her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow at him. He lay in bed, fidgeting with his bandage, waiting for Scarlet to come up, but she never did. He crept downstairs and saw her sitting on the floor with her face in her hands. Silent sobs racking her body. Broken pieces of mirror still scattered all around her.

He picked her up, pulled her firm against his body as she cried, and carried her up to bed. In her utter state of despair, through muffled cries, she told him that the mirror had belonged to her grand-mère and her grand-mère before that, and her grand-mère before that. A second era heirloom. Seeing the pain in his eyes, she reached up to place a hand on his cheek. She assured him that she didn't care about the mirror. She just missed her grand-mère.

That night he stroked her hair until she fell asleep, still wrapped in his arms. Then the nightmares began.