Kamrynn’s POV
The party still buzzed in my ears as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was nearly 2 AM when I finally decided to leave the festivities, knowing full well how important sleep was for my babies. Yet, sleep didn’t come easily. My twins decided tonight was a perfect time for an acrobatics competition, their tiny but powerful kicks relentless against my ribs and belly.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to rest, but when the darkness finally came, it brought something far worse than exhaustion.
The nightmare-or premonition, given the nature of my powers-was a chaotic mess of shadows and cold whispers. It wasn’t like my usual visions, which were clearer, more structured. This one was fragmented, like shattered glass, each shard reflecting something horrifying but incomplete.
I saw Kyven, his face pale and streaked with something dark-blood? His eyes, usually warm, were blank, lifeless, as though he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. Around him, the world twisted and writhed, grotesque shapes clawing at the edges of the vision. A sense of doom wrapped itself around me, suffocating and cold.
And then there was a voice, cruel and gritty, echoing through the shadows: “All the detriment in this world stems from a lack of individual ability. You are only here in this position because you are weak, incapable, and such a waste of an existence.”
I jolted awake to the shrill, piercing sound of my alarm, my chest heaving as though I’d been running for miles. I couldn’t be more grateful for setting it the night before. Sweat clung to my skin, cold and damp, soaking through my nightgown. My heart pounded erratically, the sharp rhythm of fear hammering against my ribs. I gagged, bile rising in my throat, and clutched my stomach as a wave of nausea rolled through me.
“What… was that?” My voice trembled, the words barely escaping my dry, cracked lips.
Aryna’s presence stirred in the back of my mind, her tone gentle yet laced with concern. “Was it a nightmare?”
I shook my head weakly, the motion making me dizzy. “No,” I croaked, barely able to get the word out. “Not just a nightmare. A premonition.”
I sat frozen for several moments, the weight of the fear suffocating. Though the details of the dream had already begun to slip away, the residual terror clung to me, gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
It had been distorted, a tangled mass of images that didn’t make sense. There had been shadows, sharp and overwhelming, suffocating the air around me. A chill had seeped into my bones, one that refused to leave even as I sat there wide awake.
I couldn’t remember the specifics-only a crushing sense of doom and the knowledge that Kyven had been at the center of it all. Something terrible was coming.
Unlike the nightmares I’d had about Rmonica, this one felt different. Worse. My dreams always came true, and there was nothing more terrifying than a threat I couldn’t fully understand.
The alarm continued to blare, pulling me further from the remnants of sleep. I turned it off with shaking fingers, dragging myself upright. My muscles felt stiff and heavy, as if weighed down by the unseen force of the dream.
‘A shower might help,’ I thought, desperate to shake off the lingering dread.
I wobbled over to the bathroom, throwing off my nightgown and turning on the shower. Hot water poured over me, but it did little to wash away the unease. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to remember the details of the dream. A face? A voice? Anything.
Instead, all I got were searing flashes-shadows twisting unnaturally, a chilling laugh echoing in the void. Each attempt to grasp the fragments sent sharp, stabbing pains through my temples.
“Come on,” I muttered, pressing my fingers against my scalp as if I could force the memories back. But they slipped away, leaving only a hollow ache behind.
I stumbled out of the shower and into my clothes, the routine movements offering little comfort. By the time I left my room, it was just past 7 AM. The palace was eerily quiet, the aftermath of the night’s revelry evident in the silence. Most of the Pack had partied until dawn, and now they were likely sprawled across their beds, recovering.
I moved quietly through the empty halls, my footsteps muffled against the plush carpet. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. My plan was simple-make a light breakfast in the kitchen and retreat to my room for some much needed sleep.
But as I reached the main hallway, movement caught my eye. My breath hitched as I turned my head, just in time to see someone disappear around the far corner.
“Alpha Draven?” I whispered, narrowing my eyes.
It had to be him-the broad shoulders, the commanding stride. But what was he doing wandering the palace so early? Surely, if he needed something, there were maids and attendants to handle it. The image of him from last night resurfaced-his calculated movements, his smirk as he watched Kyven and Thalia.
Just then, like clockwork, a fragment of the nightmare struck me with brutal force: Draven’s face, cold and twisted with triumph. His voice-low, venomous, unrelenting-echoed in my mind: “All the detriment in this world stems from a lack of individual ability. You are only here in this position because you are weak, incapable, and such a waste of an existence.”
I gasped, clutching my head as the memory seared through me. The pain was unbearable, slicing through my skull like a hot blade. I staggered, nearly falling as the words reverberated through me.
“Kamrynn, stop!” Aryna’s voice was sharp, breaking through the storm in my mind. “You’re pushing too hard.”
“He was in my dream,” I whispered hoarsely, pressing my fingers against my pounding temples. “Aryna, I don’t know why, but he was there.”
“Do not jump to conclusions,” she warned, her tone measured. “You know how dangerous that can be.”
I didn’t answer. My legs moved on instinct, carrying me to the end of the hallway where I’d seen him. But when I reached the spot, he was gone.
“Of course,” I muttered, frustration and anxiety churning in my chest.
I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. The image of Draven’s triumphant smirk lingered, and the words he’d spoken rang like an alarm in my head.
Something was wrong. I didn’t know what, but I could feel it, deep and unshakable.
The unease in my chest only grew stronger, a gnawing sensation that refused to let go. My thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last. Was something truly wrong, or was I just being ridiculous? Maybe Kyven was right. Maybe I was just jealous.
But jealous of what, exactly?
Unlike with Eloane, my first impression of Alpha Draven hadn’t triggered any alarm bells. He had seemed perfectly composed, the kind of man who carried the weight of his authority with ease. This anxiety had only started after everything went sideways with Kyven.
I hated to admit it, but I was still angry. Angry at Thalia for how quickly and completely she had captivated Kyven. Angry at Kyven for how drastically his behavior had changed overnight. But more than that, I was angry at myself-for caring at all.
Was I projecting that anger onto Alpha Draven? It wasn’t impossible. He was Thalia’s father, after all, and the one who had insisted on scheduling the mating ceremony for just six days from now. It was easier to channel my frustration toward him than to confront what I was really feeling.
“Stop it,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I walked. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I tried to convince myself that my suspicions were unfounded. Alpha Draven’s behavior last night might have seemed a little odd, but it wasn’t inexplicable. He was an Alpha, not a regular guest. His responsibilities likely stretched far beyond what anyone here could imagine. And his disappearances? They probably had everything to do with managing his Pack, ensuring their well-being even while he was away.
The way he had looked at Kyven and Thalia-it wasn’t sinister. It was the look of a proud father, nothing more. What parent wouldn’t smile when seeing their child and their fated mate together?
“See?” I told myself firmly. “You’re overthinking this.”
The Blue Bell Pack had become like a family to me. For the first time in what felt like forever, my life had settled into something close to peace. The last thing I wanted was to stir up trouble over baseless paranoia. If I started accusing Alpha Draven of something without any real evidence, I’d only make a fool of myself-and worse, I might lose the trust of the people who had taken me in.
I repeated those reassurances over and over again, clinging to them like a lifeline. Everything was fine. I was just anxious. Maybe even a little jealous, though I hated admitting it.
But Aryna wasn’t buying it.
“Kamrynn,” she said softly in my mind, her voice a gentle nudge. “You know better.”
I clenched my fists, refusing to answer.
“You’ve seen this before. You’ve felt this before. Stop ignoring what you know to be true.”
“I’m just being paranoid,” I whispered harshly, as if saying it aloud would make it true.
Aryna didn’t reply, but her presence lingered, a quiet pressure in the back of my mind.
I made my way to the kitchen, convincing myself with every step that I was just anxious, jealous, and reading too much into things. But deep down, the unease wouldn’t fade.
My dreams always came true.
And that was the most terrifying part of all.