Clare – POV
Let me tell you something about dreams.
They lie. They really, really lie.
I mean, you'd think after everything I went through to escape, my body would just collapse into sleep like a log and let me forget about everything. But no, the universe was determined to screw with me, apparently. I spent hours tossing and turning, trying to fight off the exhaustion, only for sleep to drag me under and throw me right back into the nightmare I'd been running from.
Let me just say, my night was not as pleasant as I would've loved it to be.
You'd think that after everything I'd done to escape those suffocating alphas—running, crawling, and trying not to get caught—I'd sleep like a log. That's what I thought too. But nope. It didn't happen. As if my body wasn't already on high alert, my stupid subconscious decided it was time to play games.
I managed to escape them physically, but it wasn't enough. The moment I closed my eyes, there they were. The five damn alphas, marching through my stupid dream, towering over me like the kind of nightmare I couldn't shake. Honestly, I'd have preferred if they were actually chasing me instead of showing up like this. I'd rather have the sweat on my skin from real danger than… well, this.
The dream, though? Ridiculous. Ridiculous is the only word for it.
In the dream, I hadn't escaped at all. Nope. Not even a little. Instead, my subconscious decided that the better option was to just... submit to the five Alphas. Like that was ever gonna happen in real life.
I mean, really? Was I just that stupid?
The rogues hadn't even shown up in my dream. It was like they didn't even exist. Instead, there I was, kneeling in front of the five of them—Desmond, Jake, Travis, Karl, and Michael—sitting there with that damn smug look on their faces like I was just some kind of plaything for them to amuse themselves with.
And me? Oh, I was perfectly fine with it. In my stupid dream, I wasn't even fighting it. I was just... there, like a willing little pet.
What kind of sick joke was that?
I could practically hear Grandpa's voice in my head: Never trust what's in your head, kid. The real battle's always out here in the world. Yeah, no kidding. I didn't trust my dreams, either. They were a mess of chaos and confusion, and this was just the icing on the cake.
The worst part wasn't the ridiculousness of the dream though. Oh no. What kept me from getting a decent amount of sleep wasn't just my dumb subconscious. It was the absolute chaos that followed.
Imagine me, trying to roll over and forget about the fact that my inner thoughts were straight-up sabotaging me, when a heavy bang on the door shattered my peace. Then came the sound of jeering voices. "Thief! Thief! You're dead, thief!"
Okay, let's break that down for a second. First of all, rude. Second, they could've at least tried to make the whole "breaking and entering" thing sound a bit more professional, you know? But no. Instead, they decided to shout like it was some kind of public execution.
And as much as I was thankful for the interruption (because, honestly, I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand dreaming about submitting to five of the most annoying men alive), I wasn't thrilled by the chaos that came with it. No, really. Can a defective, or female wolf—whatever it is I was—I didn't care anymore—just have one night of peace after everything I'd been through? Is that too much to ask for? I barely made it out alive earlier, and now this?
The banging continued, louder now, mixed with the shouts. The crowd outside sounded like they were going to break down the door any second, and it clicked then.
They're after me.
I scrambled up from the bed, heart racing, brain sluggish from lack of rest. I glanced around the room like a confused squirrel, trying to find a way out. And that's when the thought hit me:
The money.
Shit. The stupid owner of that damn money I'd swiped must've put some kind of unique scent on it. What, was he some kind of paranoid freak? Maybe he had a "special" thing for his coin pouch—like a freakin' magical tracking spell or something. And now, the scent trail was leading straight to me.
Of course they were. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. The owner of the money I'd… liberated from his greedy little hands had placed a unique scent on the damn cash. And, surprise, surprise, they traced it straight to me. Greedy much? Yeah, I thought so. So, of course, now I had to deal with a bunch of angry idiots who were probably ready to burn me at the stake.
Greedy bastard.
As the door cracked under the pressure of the pounding, I didn't wait around to see if it would hold. I moved faster than I thought I could—grabbing my stuff, rushing to the window, and throwing myself through it.
Yeah, you'd think I'd learn after all these damn jumps, right? But honestly, when you're cornered and your only option is to dive out the window, you don't have the time to be picky about your landing zone. I had no time to assess whether the ground was a soft cushion of grass or a pile of rocks.
Well, that was just fantastic. There went my peace and quiet. There went the chance to get a full night's sleep. What was I supposed to do now? Throw the window open again and pray for some miracle?
I rushed over to the window, my pulse pounding in my neck as I yanked it open. The cool night air hit me like a slap in the face. Perfect. Another stupid escape. One more time. I'd jump out of this window and—hopefully—survive.
This time, I got lucky.
I hit something soft, much softer than the ground, to be honest. I even had a split second of smug satisfaction, like, "Well, at least I'm not going to die from a broken leg today. Progress, right?"
That is, until I registered the fact that the soft thing I landed on was, in fact, a person.
Well. Shit.
I'm sure that person was probably regretting their life choices, especially considering the way I fell on them. But that wasn't my biggest concern. My biggest concern was that I had no idea who I'd landed on.
I was about to apologize, to say something, anything, to the poor soul I had just absolutely squashed, but when I looked down—my heart stopped.
There, staring up at me with cold, calculating eyes that had seen far too much, was a face I knew all too well.
Those dark, familiar eyes.
Oh, crap.
I didn't even have to look twice.
It was him.
The one person I didn't want to see right now.