Chapter 11
Eleven
Knox
I ’m surprised by Bailey’s choice of venue this time in the dreamscape.
I look around, every detail of the space meticulously accurate and already so familiar. The walls of her open-concept house greet us. The bookshelf stacked with romances, murder mysteries, and a few cookbooks sits in the corner, every title accounted for. The open spaces on each wall are decorated with abstract paintings, collages, and photos of her and her friends.
The kitchen island has a fruit dish, complete with apples and oranges. The TV sits on its stand, and her velvety couch, with its many blankets and pillows, is in front of it. Everything is here, perfectly curated from her memory.
We sit together on the couch and sip hot cocoa that she’s made, the silence of the late-night hour creeping in from outside and filling the house. A corner lamp brings warmth to the room while the near-full moon cascades blocks of light along the floor of the eastern wall. I sip the cocoa, enjoying its heat and the way it’s rich but not too sweet.
“I’m happy I’m dreaming about you again, Knox,” she says past the edge of her mug as she blows on the hot liquid .
“Yeah?” I try not to sound too eager and fail miserably. “And why is that? Not that I’m complaining.”
“I don’t really have anyone else to talk to about everything,” she explains. “I have Cassie, of course, but she’s been so busy planning her wedding. And she’s happy; she’s in a good place right now. I don’t want to bring her down by constantly discussing my problems. And our other friends … I don’t think they’d get it. They’d just tell me to move on. With the best of intentions, but they’d make it sound so damn easy, and … it’s not. Not after what Zach put me through.”
I scoot a little closer to her on the couch, happy when I wrap an arm over her shoulders, and she leans her head into my chest. “It sounds like he put you through a lot mentally and emotionally.”
“He did,” she says thoughtfully, eyes cast off in some distant memory. “He really did. He was awful to me. I don’t know why I stayed with him as long as I did. Just scared of being alone, I guess.”
“That’s fair. And there’s no shame in that,” I assure her.
She looks up at me, confused. “You don’t think so?”
“No. What’s wrong with not wanting to be alone?”
She rests her head back down against me. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always thought I should be a strong, independent woman , you know? Like I’m supposed to be able to take on the world’s weight by myself and grin and bear it. But it gets hard, feeling so alone all the time. Which is funny since I choose to live in a cabin in the woods rather than in the city, but … There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely , I think.”
“I know what you mean,” I say.
And I do.
I’ve been around for a long, long time, as many shifters have, and I’ve been looking for my fated mate since day one. Even when my packmates surround me, the underlying sting of loneliness is always there. That’s why I’m happy I finally have Bailey in my life. It took me so much longer than I anticipated to find her. Bailey has no idea how long I waited.
That’s why, as much as I hate it, sacrificing my ability to shift for a bit was worth it. Using Agatha and her tarot deck was worth it.
The Wheel was worth it.
I debate telling Bailey about the tarot cards and how I found her but think better of it. “I think everyone wants to find love,” I say. “Or, at least, most people. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Wanting to be loved. Wanting to have someone you can depend on. All of that is important.”
She smiles up at me. “I think you’re right.” She sighs, “I guess I’ve just always had shit luck when it comes to picking men.”
“Maybe that’s finally come to an end,” I say softly.
She cocks a brow. “Oh? No offense, Knox, but I don’t think manifesting my dream man every night in my dreams counts as finding myself a man in the real world. Pretty sure my friends would throw me in an insane asylum if I told them, which is another reason I’m keeping it to myself.”
I shift away from her, taking her mug and mine and setting them both on the coffee table. “I need to show you something.”
A confused look sets over her pretty features, but she says nothing else. I grab her by the hand and take her through the house, out the glass patio doors, until she’s standing on the deck.
“Knox, what are you … Why are we?—”
I step off the deck and turn around. I concentrate, feeling the familiar buzz of magic coursing through me as my body shifts and morphs into its animalistic form. A flash of light floods the night. Bailey shields her eyes as the light gives way to darkness, her eyes adjusting as all that’s left is the moonlight and me, coming up to her shoulders as I stand on all fours in front of her.
Her eyes are vast, but there isn’t any fear in them. Instead, they’re filled with curiosity. Surprise. A million questions, questions that sit on her open mouth but that her lips fail to form into tangible words .
“Knox, I … But you …”
“I’ve wanted to show you this since we met, Bailey Dennis. I’m a?—”
But I don’t get the word shifter out before the familiar blaring of her alarm pierces the air, and we’re both ripped away from the dreamscape.