Blood Bound: A Werewolf Love Story

Chapter 8: Jett Connell

Chapter 8: Jett Connell

I woke up sweating even though I felt cold. I recalled my dream and began to cry.

The last thing I remembered clearly was seeing my Angel’s face. The rest was blurry, like I was watching everything underwater.

Someone was touching me and I felt a needle prick the crook of my right arm and a mask cover my face. I begin to struggle, thinking I was being strangled. Someone held me down, and I realized that I could breathe easier now.

It’s an oxygen mask, I though. They aren’t trying to kill me.

I feel pants being pulled onto me and I flushed—I was naked. What sort of impression had I given my Angel?

Well at least I was alive.

The medicine (I assumed it was medicine. I also assumed they put me on a IV drip.) started to kick in and my body started to go numb. Suddenly, pain rips through my side and I scream against my will, teeth clenched so tightly together I was afraid they would crack.

“Hold him down, dammit!” a guy says. Definitely an alpha.

The pain fades and a dull ache takes its place. My wrist twinges painfully and it too is replaced with a dull ache.

I feel myself being carried up several flights of stairs then being placed on a very soft bed. The oxygen mask is removed and I feel a pinch as someone injects my arm with something. I quickly fall asleep.

I was just having a dream about being a wolf and running really fast through some unfamiliar woods when the dream abruptly shifts.

They, unlike reality, are as clear as day.

I wake up, in my dream, and immediately look to my right. The sun shines bright through the curtains, setting fire to my wife’s blonde hair.

It’s my Angel.

I take in my surroundings—it’s an old fashioned home, I guess, like in Shakespeare’s time.

I flash back to something Rafe said to me. The last time we were reincarnated, it was in England in the 16th century. And they killed Romulus and Remus by killing Tala when she was with child. Then I killed myself. I couldn’t complete my mission without her.

Oh god.

This was my old reincarnation—this was me.

The dream, or memory, continued. I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, and she stirs slightly. He long eyelashes brush her cheek as she slowly wakes up. I kiss her forehead, and my left hand—my right was still on her cheek—moved downwards to cup her bulging stomach.

I felt as though someone else had taken over my body. It’s like I’m at the wheel, looking out of the windshield, but someone—something—else is driving.

She gives me a breathtaking smile (truly, my breath is taken away) and I smiled my own crooked smile in return. She smiles even wider as I rub her belly through the thin nightdress she wore.

“Today is Sunday,” she says playfully. “The day of rest and of God. Whatever shall we do today, my wolf?”

I feel myself smiling at her. “Whatever pleases you, my angel.” I chuck her chin. “And our boys,” I add. “Of course.”

“Well,” she says, pursing her lips. “I would like a back massage. It does ache so…I fear I am not shrong enough for my little men.” She rubs her belly affectionately. “And maybe a foot massage too?” she says hopefully. “For the boys, of course.”