Kurt, per the usual, woke in a pool of salted moisture. His thin, dampened night shirt clinging to his thundering chest. The dreams persisted in their insistence on interfering with Kurt's sleep cycle. It was more or less the same as it always was. Kurt running wildly in the forest and hiding just as he always had. But there was one startling detail that made Kurt's body tremble.
He had finally saw the creature's face.
It was nothing at all Kurt would have expected, almost like something out of a bizarre supernatural film. He had anticipated that the predator that stalked his path was some sort of wolf. And given the consistent howling, he wasn't far off. But the creature was no ordinary wolf, if it were truly a wolf at all. Kurt's best guess deduced the predator to a werewolf. But it looked nothing like he what had seen in the campy movies Hollywood regularly churned out.
The werewolf, as Kurt suspected it was, was manlier in stature. His basic corporeal form suggesting traces of what could be a human being. But the comparison ended abruptly there. The rest of the creature was positively wolfish. Kurt's limited eye sight could scarcely make out the outlines of its face in vivid detail. From what he could remember, it's fur was dark as pitch and covered the entire expanse of its broadly muscular body. It was, for the most part, cropped closely towards it's skin but bloomed in puffs of thick fur at the mane that encircled its thick neck. What struck Kurt the most, however, was its beastly visage.
Its black ears were long and triangular as they sprouted outward from its head. Thick brows towered over deep-set eyes that shimmered in its familiarly golden hue. It's elongated snout was perhaps its most recognizably wolfish feature, a soft pallet of black flesh sitting on its end. Directly below was a terrifying set of jaws that were truly the stuff of nightmares. Jagged teeth jutted out of pink gums, their pointed tips glistening with saliva. The pronounced canines would surely be adept at slicing through flesh like a warmed knife through butter. The claws were another petrifying feature. They looked like nothing Kurt had ever seen before. No wolf or human had paws or hands like that. It looked more similar to the regular human anatomy of a hand, but the comparison ceased at the sheer massiveness of its palms. The nails at the end of the thick digits looked menacingly sharp, like it would tear away anything in its path at any moment's notice.
There was no doubt in Kurt's mind that this was a bonafide killing machine. The destruction it would be capable of alone made Kurt's heart sputter in terror. But miraculously he wasn't as scared of the beast itself. Not nearly as he should have been. The glint in its golden eye struck Kurt as rabidly possessive, like it would protect whichever being in front it without a second thought.
Kurt could only hope he was on the receiving end of such fierce protection.
Kurt tried to distance his mind from the dream as he strolled across the stone pavers on campus. He instead thought of Blaine. It had been two days since Kurt last saw him and he was beginning to get restless. His nerves tugged at his heart strings incessantly as a result of his sudden shyness. He was simply too nervous to press the call button on the number that Blaine had given him. The dark-haired man made him feel like a giddy teenager who was too scared to converse with his crush.
The doors to the library opened before he reached for the handle. Kurt was startled at the sudden change in position and looked up to see who it was. A blonde man with agreeable facial features was intently focused on talking, his cellular device neatly tucked toward his ears, his eyes not focused in front of him. They unceremoniously clashed into each other. Cold hands caught Kurt before he could fall backwards on the pavement. The other man's brow furrowed in frustration as he was geared to tell off the person who interrupted his phone call. It quickly smoothed out once he saw Kurt.
"You know what, Gary? I think I'm going to have to call you back. I just ran into something much, much more interesting than astrophysics." He said in a recognizably British accent. The man clicked off his phone and gave Kurt a dangerously slow once over. Kurt bristled in slight discomfort. "I'm so sorry for nearly knocking you over. The name's Adam. And who, pray tell, are you?" His startlingly blue eyes implored into Kurt's, like he was looking at a piece of treasure that he was intent on acquiring for himself. His fingers, cool as marble, lightly touched Kurt's. Kurt pulled them back quickly, his skin recoiling at the unnatural chill of the other man's touch.
"Um, Kurt. And it's okay. I'm always caught in my head or work as well. No harm, no foul." Kurt blushed as he replied politely. He hoped this Adam character would just return the favor and leave. He didn't.
"Kurt...as in Kurt Hummel? I've heard about some of your stuff. I normally think historical feminism to be such a dreary topic. The witch trials were such a banal moment in time." He paused for a moment. "Had I known you were this pretty I would have studied your work more intently." Adam licked his thin lips confidently as though he had not clearly insulted Kurt and his work. "Say, would you by any chance want to go out to dinner with me?"
Kurt's mouth dropped at the audacity. Before he could swiftly decline, a gruff voice cut into their admittedly one-sided conversation. "He's perfectly fine." A muscular forearm snaked its way around Kurt's lithe waist. Much to Kurt's delight, the voice and arm belonged to Blaine of all people. Kurt's body melted into the taller man's hulking frame. It felt deliciously right. Kurt briefly wondered what it would feel like to cuddle with this beautiful beast of a man. "Kurt will unfortunately have to decline your measly offer. He has plans." Blaine's eyes were wilder than usual as flames of jealousy erupted within the tawny orbs. Kurt thought Blaine must have been a convincing actor for putting on such a display. He hardly knew the man and he was protecting him from unwanted advances with a persuasive performance.
"Ah, I see. I wasn't aware Kurt was otherwise romantically inclined. Tis a pity." His eyes never left Blaine's. They were locked together in some unspoken challenge. Kurt shifted in discomfit at the blatant pissing contest taking place between the two men. Adam bravely turned to Kurt and said, "If this...unfortunate arrangement doesn't work out, do let me know." His eyes gleamed salaciously. Adam struck Kurt as one of those irritating people who absolutely thrived on getting the last word. Kurt rolled his eyes and watched as Adam turned on his heel to leave.
"Oh, and Kurt? It bears repeating that I'm truly sorry for almost knocking you over. I do hope you're not nearly as breakable as your porcelain skin suggests." Kurt's gut twisted, screaming in danger. Adam's parting message felt like a threat; A warning of some kind. It was completely out of left field and immensely strange. Adam didn't even know him. Beside Kurt, Blaine's eyes never left Adam's retreating figure. His muscular throat reverberated with a slight growl, his hands pushing Kurt deeper into his side. Kurt's straight eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Blaine was really committed to his spontaneous role of protector.
"You can let me go now Blaine, the creep is gone. Thanks for that by the way. I couldn't come up with a good excuse to get rid of him." My words cut off whatever reverie Blaine seemed to be caught under. He hastily withdrew his arm from my waist as if my body were made of scalding coals. His face smoothed over, a startlingly visage of calm collectedness.
"Right. I just didn't like the way he talked to you is all. He seemed like a real asshole." Blaine let out a small chuckle. It seemed forced, but Kurt didn't linger on that suspicion.
"He did, didn't he?" Kurt laughed in agreement hoping to soothe the awkwardness that inevitably clung to the air around them. Blaine held the door open for Kurt who graciously accepted the classic act of chivalry.
They both approached the front desk to check in. Kurt inwardly groaned at the presence of Chandler who perked up considerably at the sight of his crush.
"Hi, Chandler. Can I check out my usual?" Kurt kept his smile small in hopes of smothering unwanted attention. It didn't work.
"Well hello to you, too! I was just thinking about you. I was reading Romeo and Juliet. Have you heard of it?" Kurt blanched. He so did not want to talk about Shakespeare most laughably well-known plays. Beside Kurt, Blaine snorted in undisguised amusement.
"Everyone with some semblance of a rudimentary education has heard of Romeo and Juliet, Chandler." Blaine muttered sardonically. Chandler huffed, and his cheeks flamed in anger at being so rudely interrupted.
"I was clearly talking to Kurt, Blair." Blaine eyes narrowed into slits, annoyance marring his beautiful face. Chandler rolled his eyes before turning back to Kurt. An easy smile smoothed over his face as he locked eyes with the object of his affections. "But anyway, I just love it. Forbidden Romance. Star-crossed lovers. It reminds me of someone I care for very, very deeply." He sighed wistfully, his obviousness quite apparent. Kurt felt as uncomfortable as he always had whenever he was in Chandler's general vicinity.
"That's sounds truly...riveting." Kurt replied dryly. "As much as I would love to chat about Shakespeare, I'm desperately behind on research. Be a doll and sign us in?" Kurt batted his thick eyelashes for added effect and turned on his heel. Blaine followed closely behind. Chandler was so stunned he didn't realize Kurt was leaving before it was too late.
"Jeez, he really has it bad for you, huh?" Blaine nudged Kurt with an elbow and a wink.
"Unfortunately. It makes coming to the library such a hassle. I should honestly stage an intervention for him." Kurt chuckled and placed his bag at his usual table and looked up at Blaine. "Sit with me?" Blaine nodded and slid into the seat next to Kurt. "I'll be right back, I have to check out some journals."
He would finally be delving into the personal journals of one Sarah Wildes. She was one of the women that had been accused of witchcraft during the trials in Salem. He was hoping to gain an insight into her everyday life for clues as to how she got entangled in the suspicion that led to her inevitable execution.
He returned with his copy of the transcribed journals and plopped it on the table. Blaine glanced at him curiously but remained silent as he was seemingly engrossed with his own research.
Kurt opened the first page and gasped. It was only an inventory of plants and herbs yielded from a garden. But the books itself seemed to breathe with life. It's pages sighing and glowing ever so slightly. He blinked, hoping that he wasn't going crazy. Pages of books didn't just have a mind of their own. He glanced at Blaine would didn't seem to notice something was awry. Kurt placed his palm to steady the floating pages. It was a mistake. He felt his eyes glaze over, enshrouding his vision in darkness as he was taken to some other place in time.
He had a bird's eye view of a series of scenes that flickered together in one fast motion. He saw what he presumed to be Sara. She was drying herbs she had picked from her garden and then placing them in a large cauldron, heating the metal container over an open fire. She was reciting something from some kind tattered tomb. A grimoire, a voice whispered in the shadows.
Another scene flickered forward. This time he not only saw Sarah but a gathering of other women. A coven. All of them looked at each other intently; an atmosphere of unease clouding around them. They huddled together in a circle around a pentagram, arms stretching toward the heavens and their lips uttering a chant of some sort. One women began convulsing, her eyes glazing over. Her mouth twisted as words seemed to be pouring out of her. Kurt couldn't make out what she was saying. But by the looks of the other women it seemed important. The same voice whispered, Witch. Wolf. Prophecy. Kurt. Bl- the grim voice was beginning to say another name before he heard a deep voice calling out his name.
Kurt's vision was interrupted. The air around him swooshed like a duvet unfurling over a bed. Blaine's hand rested on Kurt's as if he were trying to capture his attention. It seemed to have worked. Kurt's breathing was labored, his necklace warming against his sternum.
Blaine's eyes were pouring into Kurt's, the golden orbs gravely serious.
"Kurt, I think we should talk."
AN: And so, the plot thickens! Next chapter should be about Blaine telling Kurt about who he really is. I don't know how I'm going to accomplish that, but it'll come to me. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and possessive Blaine. There's a reason for that. Like always, reviews keep me going. I'd love some suggestions about where you guys want this to go. 3