The Dream That Haunts

Kilian lay in his bed, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. The night was silent around him, but within his mind, chaos reigned. His body was still, yet he could feel every pulse of his heart as it beat erratically. He had been here before, in this place, in this dream.

The dream that haunted him. The dream of her.

She was always there, her presence like an elusive shadow in the periphery of his thoughts, never fully revealed, yet never truly gone. He could never remember meeting her in real life, never remember how they had crossed paths, but every night, without fail, she returned to him.

In this dream, she stood before him, cloaked in a flowing white gown. Her figure was delicate, her presence ethereal, like a vision that couldn't quite be touched. The fabric of her gown shimmered under an unseen light, casting a soft glow around her, but it was her eyes—her eyes that he could never fully see—that held him captive.

Her face was always blurred, never fully visible, like a memory just out of reach. But the rest of her… the curve of her body, the way she moved, the way she stood—it was all too familiar.

She stretched out her hand to him, her fingers slender and graceful. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of why he should reach for her, why she felt so important, yet so unknown. But his body moved before his mind could catch up, and his fingers brushed against hers. The moment their skin touched, a jolt of electricity ran through him, a surge of energy so strong, it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

Without a word, they began walking together through a lush garden. The air was thick with the scent of flowers, their colors vibrant, the landscape alive with warmth and peace. But inside him, the storm raged. He couldn't understand why he was here, why he was with her, why he couldn't remember meeting her. Why did she feel so… significant?

They walked in silence for what seemed like hours, the garden stretching on forever. It felt like a dream that had no beginning and no end. And then, as if she had been waiting for the right moment, she spoke.

"Why haven't you found me yet, Kilian?" Her voice was soft, like a whisper carried on the wind, yet it cut through him like a blade. The question hung in the air, and with it, a sense of urgency that he couldn't escape.

He froze, his grip tightening around her hand, but he couldn't answer. The question gnawed at him, made him feel small, lost. His brow furrowed as he searched for words.

"I don't know where to find you," he said finally, his voice thick with frustration. "I don't know who you are."

She stopped walking then, turning to face him. Her gaze, though hidden, felt penetrating, as if she could see right through him. She held his stare for a long moment before speaking again.

"You know who I am. You know where I live," she said, her voice a soothing melody, but there was something in her tone—a challenge, a dare—that made his heart pound.

He shook his head, his mind reeling, his pulse quickening. "What do you mean? I've never met you in my life before."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, as though she found his confusion endearing, but it only deepened his frustration. How could she say that? How could she claim he knew her, when his mind screamed in denial? He had never met her. Never.

She stepped closer, her hand reaching up to touch his face. Her fingers were cool against his heated skin, and the moment her touch made contact, a wave of pleasure coursed through him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Her hand felt like an extension of his own soul, a soothing balm to the raging storm inside him. His eyes fluttered closed, his body betraying him, leaning into her touch.

Her fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, her touch tender, and in that moment, he knew he would do anything to stay in this dream, to stay in this feeling. It was bliss, pure and unrelenting.

"Find me, Kilian," she whispered, her voice hushed but insistent. "Find me."

His heart skipped a beat, his thoughts swirling. He opened his eyes, locking his gaze with her hidden one. "How?" he asked, his voice strained. "I don't know where to start. You've been haunting my dreams for the past seven years now. Seven good years."

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that both intrigued and terrified him. "That's because you've met me before," she said, her voice dripping with certainty. "You don't just remember where."

A sudden wave of cold washed over him. "What do you mean?" he growled, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He had to know. He needed to know.

"Are you my mate?" he asked, the question slipping from his lips before he could stop it. It was a question he had been afraid to ask for years.

Her smile deepened, but there was sadness in her expression, as though she pitied him. She nodded slowly, her hand still resting gently on his face. "Find me, Kilian. Find me."

With that, the world around him began to blur. The garden, her face, everything—everything started to fade into darkness. His heart thundered in his chest as he reached for her, but she was slipping away, vanishing like smoke in the wind.

"Find me!" her voice echoed, the last words ringing in his ears before the world around him collapsed.

Suddenly, Kilian jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat. His breath came in rapid, shallow gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as if it might burst from his ribcage. The room around him was dark, the only sound the deafening rush of blood in his ears. He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to calm the raging storm inside him.

What the hell was that? Why had the dream felt so real, so vivid? Why was she haunting him like this? He gritted his teeth, rubbing a hand across his face, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream that still clung to him like a fog.

He stood up, his muscles stiff and aching from the intensity of the dream. He needed something to clear his head. Something cold.

Without thinking, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The cold water rushed over him as he stepped into the spray, hoping it would wash away the lingering feeling of her touch, the haunting ache that still pulsed in his chest.

But even as the cold water hit his skin, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was out there. Somewhere. Waiting for him.

And Kilian knew—he knew—that he would never be free of her until he found her.