Precognition

Zeff

I jolted awake, my body drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around me. My heart was pounding in my chest, the sound of it filling my ears like a drum. I gasped for breath, my mouth dry, my body still aching from the dream—no, the **heavenly dream**—that had just gripped me.

I sat up, running a hand through my damp hair, trying to steady myself. The room was dark, the only light coming from the sliver of moonlight filtering through the window. My teeth were still elongated, sharp and ready, as if my wolf was on the verge of breaking free. I could feel the animal inside me, prowling just beneath the surface, restless and agitated.

I bit her.

I fucking marked her in that dream.

I had sex with her

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I could still feel the sensation of her skin breaking beneath my teeth, the rush of warmth, the overwhelming flood of emotions that surged through me the moment I did it. It felt so real. Too real. My senses were still humming with the memory of her—her taste, her scent, the soft sound of her gasps filling my ears.

I groaned, pressing the heel of my palm against my forehead, trying to push away the lingering sensations. But it was useless. The dream had been so vivid, so intoxicating, like nothing I had ever experienced before. I could feel my testosterone levels skyrocketing, my body still reacting to the phantom touch of her skin against mine, the feel of her beneath me.

Damn it.

I needed to calm down, to get a grip, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face, her eyes glowing with that amber light, her lips parted in a soft gasp. The way she had looked at me, the way she had kissed me back, her body arching into mine—it was driving me mad. My wolf was howling inside me, demanding to be released, to take what he believed was his. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, trying to control the beast inside.

Why did it feel so real?

I knew we had shared dreams before, but this… this was something different. Something deeper. It wasn't just a dream—it was a shared experience, a connection that went beyond anything I had felt before. I could feel her emotions, her desire, her confusion, her need. And that need had ignited something in me, something primal and wild, something that I couldn't control.

The bite… the mark… the climax

My eyes snapped open again, wide and alert. I could still feel the sensation of her neck beneath my teeth, the way her body had trembled in my arms, the rush of her pulse against my tongue. My wolf had wanted to mark her, to claim her as his own, and in that moment, I had been powerless to stop it. The dream had taken over, had consumed me, and I had given in to it completely.

But now, in the cold light of the moon, I was left with the aftermath. The confusion. The guilt.

Had I crossed a line? Had I done something irreversible?

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I needed to see her. I needed to make sure she was okay, to understand if what I had done in the dream had any real-world consequences. I threw the covers off and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up quickly, my body still thrumming with leftover adrenaline.

I ran a hand over my face, feeling the roughness of my stubble, my muscles still taut and coiled. I could feel my wolf pacing, still restless, still hungry. I needed to calm down, needed to find some way to release this pent-up energy before I did something I would regret.

The cold air of the room hit my skin, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered in my body. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, trying to focus. I needed to get out of here. Needed to clear my head.

I grabbed a shirt from the chair nearby, pulling it on quickly, my mind still racing with thoughts of Liliam, of the dream, of the bite. My hands were still trembling as I shoved them into my pockets, my teeth still sharp, my instincts screaming at me to go to her, to make sure she was safe.

Damn it, Liliam. What are you doing to me?

I shook my head again, trying to dispel the lingering haze of desire that clouded my mind. I needed to vent. I needed to find something, anything, to focus on besides the overwhelming urge to go to her, to touch her, to make sure she was okay.

I stormed out of the room, my feet moving with purpose. I needed to run, to push myself to my limits, to feel the burn in my muscles, the sting in my lungs. I needed to remind myself that I was still in control. That this was just a dream, a damn powerful one, but a dream nonetheless.

But as I stepped outside into the crisp night air, the moon hanging high above, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. Something fundamental. And I wasn't sure if it was for better or worse.

As I stepped into the office, I immediately felt it—the tension in the air, thick and almost suffocating. My senses were on high alert, every nerve in my body humming with a strange, electric energy. The familiar scent of Liliam hit me first, that intoxicating mix of blackberries and something else. But today, there was a hint of something different. Anxiety. Worry.

I spotted her at her desk, her head bent over a stack of papers, her fingers moving almost mechanically as she typed. She looked up as I approached, our eyes meeting, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. I could feel her emotions washing over me in waves—confusion, anxiety, something akin to fear. My wolf stirred inside me, responding instinctively to the shift in her emotions, wanting to protect, to comfort.

"Morning, Liliam," I said softly, my voice barely more than a murmur. I tried to keep my tone light, casual, but I could hear the tension in my own voice, the way it trembled with barely contained intensity.

"Morning, Zeff," she replied, her voice equally subdued. Her eyes darted away from mine, and I could see the subtle tremor in her hands as she shuffled her papers. She was trying to keep it together, but I could feel her anxiety like a living thing, pressing against me, making it hard to breathe.

I took a step closer, my heart pounding in my chest. Having her this close was almost unbearable, the pull between us stronger than ever. My wolf was restless, pacing inside me, reacting to her every movement, her every breath. I could feel his frustration, his need to be close to her, to touch her, to reassure her. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to reach out, not to close the distance between us.

"How are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The words felt inadequate, too small to capture the swirling emotions between us.

She glanced up at me, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought she might open up, might tell me what was going on inside her head. But then she looked away again, her shoulders tensing. "I'm fine," she said quietly, but I could hear the strain in her voice, the effort it took to keep up the façade.

I nodded, not wanting to push her, but I could feel the frustration building inside me. I wanted to know what was bothering her, wanted to help. But there was something else, too—something deeper, more primal. I could feel her emotions more clearly than ever before, almost as if they were my own. It was disorienting, this new level of connection, this heightened awareness of her inner world.

She started to speak again, but then she stopped, her eyes flickering to something behind me. I turned slightly, following her gaze, but there was nothing there—just the empty expanse of the office, the low hum of conversation around us. When I looked back at her, she was staring at her desk, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

I reached out, my hand hovering just above her shoulder, not quite touching. I wanted to comfort her, to ease the worry I could feel radiating from her. "Liliam," I said softly, my voice a little firmer this time, "if there's something on your mind, you can talk to me."

Her question caught me off guard, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Did you have any weird dreams?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of something I couldn't quite place. Anxiety? Curiosity?

I hesitated for a moment, my heart beating a little faster. Did she remember? Could she feel what I felt? The dream had been so vivid, so real—I could still feel the heat of her skin against mine, the way her lips had tasted, the sharp, electric sensation when I bit her… My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, reacting to the memory, to her nearness.

I cleared my throat, trying to play it cool. "Dreams?" I repeated, my voice sounding a bit too casual even to my own ears. "I mean… yeah, I guess I had a dream or two. Why?"

She didn't look away, her eyes still searching mine, as if trying to read my thoughts. "I… I had a strange dream ," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It felt… so real. You were there. And it was… intense."

My breath caught in my throat. She remembered. A part of me felt relieved—validated that it wasn't just my mind playing tricks on me. But another part of me—the wolf inside—felt possessive, territorial. She had felt it too. The bond. The bite. The overwhelming need to claim and be claimed.

I nodded slowly, trying to maintain my composure. "Yeah… I had a similar dream," I confessed, my voice low. I could feel the tension in the air thickening, the pull between us growing stronger with every word. "It felt… almost real. ."

Her eyes widened slightly, and I could see a flicker of something—fear, maybe, or understanding—cross her face. She bit her lip, looking away for a moment, her hands fidgeting with the papers on her desk. "What… what does it mean, Zeff?" she asked, her voice almost trembling. "I don't understand what's happening."

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I think… it's the bond," I said slowly, watching her reaction closely. "It's growing stronger. It's connecting us in ways we might not fully understand yet."

She swallowed hard, her gaze still avoiding mine. "But why? Why now?"

I shrugged slightly, though I knew the answer in my gut. "Maybe it's because of everything that's been happening. The stress, the danger… it could be awakening something in both of us."

She finally looked up at me again, and I could see the conflict in her eyes, the battle between wanting to understand and being afraid of what she might find. "And the bite?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "In the dream… you bit me."

I felt my stomach clench, a mix of desire and guilt swirling inside me. "I… I don't know," I lied, my voice faltering slightly. I knew exactly what it meant. The bite was a claim, a mark of possession, of connection. But she wasn't ready to hear that. Not yet.

She nodded, looking away again, her expression distant, lost in thought. "It just… it felt so real," she repeated softly, more to herself than to me. "Like I could still feel it even after I woke up."

I didn't know what to say to that. Because I felt it too. And every part of me—every fiber of my being—wanted to feel it again. To make it real, to bridge the gap between dream and reality. But for now, I needed to be patient, to give her the time and space she needed to process everything.

"Liliam," I said gently, reaching out, my hand hovering just above her shoulder, not quite touching. " Just know that I'm here."

She glanced up at me, her eyes softening slightly, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—hope, maybe, or trust. She nodded slowly, a small, hesitant smile tugging at her lips.

I gave her a reassuring smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside me. "Anytime," I replied softly, though my wolf was howling with frustration, desperate for more than just words. Desperate for the touch, the connection, the claim.

But for now, words would have to do.