Chapter 7

A few days later, Peter awoke with a start, fangs bared, growl rising in his throat. Taking a moment to assess what had woken him, he heard Phoebe cry out from down the hall. Flinging off the covers, he raced down the hall to her bedroom. Aided by the moonlight streaming through the window, glowing blue eyes assessed the dark room, but found no threat, no intruder he could claw. Instead, he found her gripped in the throes of another nightmare, one of many she'd had about Eichen House.

As he had many times in the past month, Peter walked to the bed, and sat gingerly next to his witch. He'd learned that only touch would wake her, and that even that could go badly. Once, she'd flung him across the room in her fear.

Putting one hand on her shoulder, and lightly cupping her cheek with the other, Peter called her name even as he lightly shook her awake. "Phoebe, it's only a nightmare," he soothed. "You're safe here. I won't let them hurt you again."

Phoebe's eyes shot open, and she bolted upright in bed, dislodging his hands and cringing away from him.

"Phoebe, it's me. It's Peter. You're safe."

Still, she could not hear him, gripped as she was by the ferocity of her nightmare.

Peter once again placed a hand on her shoulder, not gripping, but lightly touching, hoping to draw her out of it this way as he had before. Her shoulders tensed, but her eyes met his. Usually, this was when her body relaxed, the moment her green eyes met the blue eyes of his wolf.

This time, however, her body tensed and her hand lifted to her throat as she gasped for air she could not get. Her eyes widened in panic as she struggled to breathe.

Peter leaned forward, placing her hand on his chest. "Breathe with me, sweetheart," he said. Phoebe tried to take in a breath, but choked, gasping once more.

Frowning, Peter leaned forward to cup her face in his hands. "Breathe, Phoebe. They can't get you here. You're safe. Just breathe."

Trembling, Phoebe shook her head. She was trying, but she couldn't.

Suddenly, Peter surged forward and placed his lips gently on hers. It was just a moment, just a simple kiss. Phoebe's breath caught in her throat, and then she inhaled sharply through her nose. Peter leaned back, hands still cradling her face, and watched as she breathed out, and took another breath.

"Are you all right," he asked.

Phoebe nodded. "What did you…"

"I startled you," Peter said. "When I kissed you, you held your breath."

"Oh," Phoebe said, eyes still locked with his. "Thank you."

Peter let his hands fall from her face. "Are you all right now?"

"Yes," Phoebe said. "It was just a nightmare."

"It seemed worse than last time," Peter said. "Do you need to talk about it?"

Phoebe shook her head. She'd already told Peter about the horrible things they'd done to her in Eichen House. "No. I'm all right. It was just the same as always."

"If you're sure," Peter said, scanning her face.

"I am." Phoebe took a steadying breath. "Really. I'm going to make some chamomile tea and go back to bed. Thank you for waking me, and for…stopping the panic attack."

A wicked smirk crept across Peter's face. "Anytime you need me to…stop a panic attack, just let me know, sweetheart." He winked, and walked from the room.

Phoebe shook her head, laughing softly. She was pretty sure he was just joking, but with Peter, one could never tell.