Chapter 142

• Ayla POV
• Everything feels surreal; the only time I know reality from illusion is when Callan touches me. His fingers brushing against my skin makes everything snap back into place. The world stops morphing into one of fantasy and becomes the world I know. His touch calms the chaotic affliction that is consuming my body and my soul. I can feel him trying to reach me through our bond; it feels like a constant pounding on my brain, like I have a door inside my head and he is knocking on it desperate to get in, but if I let him in, if he finds out the truth, how my body feels like it’s going to implode at any given moment taking me and everything around me, he won’t go through with his alpha ceremony, and even though it was only a dream, I can’t shake the warning of the lady who called herself Selene, the goddess of the moon. It wasn’t that long ago I thought I was dreaming of Duscellis and Runduc, and how very wrong I was about that.
• The nurse Callan has asked to stay with me is sitting in a chair glaring at me because she is missing the ceremony; I can feel her annoyance as clear as day. She is only young; her skin looks fresh, and she doesn’t wear a lot of makeup, letting her natural beauty shine through. Her long brown hair is pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head, and her uniform is a typical navy nurse's dress that goes to just below her knees. It looks crisp and clean and very stiff. She wears a small silver watch just above her heart, which I assume is for checking pulses; the light keeps catching it, making it shimmer when she moves. She flips through her magazine, glancing down at her phone now and then, replying to messages, which I only assume are people from the pack below filling her in on what she is missing; her loud huffs of annoyance echo so loudly in my ears, the room begins to feel heavy, and I find it hard to breathe.