Werewolf and Vampire Mate [Book 1 Complete]

chapter two.

April

I try to do anything except think about Nikolai Gray for the next two days. It is, apparently, an impossible task. He invades my every waking thought.

At night, I dream what I have always dreamt, for as long as I can remember: shadows and forests and mountains and the wolf. My wolf. A figment of my imagination, a comfort to a small girl that has somehow managed to stick to adulthood. In my dreams, my wolf is my protector, my silent companion. Always there, with a thick, black coat and blazing, amber eyes.

I dream of spindly trees that whistle in the wind, the forest only lit from a sliver of moonlight. My feet are sore from running, though I don't know where I came from. I am panting and exhausted and all I know is that I cannot stop, no matter what. Because something dangerous is stalking me, hunting me. I feel it like a second shadow, feel breath against my neck, but every time I look over my shoulder only the trees greet me.

"Help!" I shout and the word echoes back to me. Whatever is chasing me looms closer. Though I can't see it, I can sense it. The terror grows as I race over grass, trip through roots and leap over fallen branches.

A cold hand latches onto my arm and yanks me backwards with startling force. I am dragged along the forest floor, kicking and screaming, though I still can't see my attacker.

Then, from within the forest, a deep growl. The glow of amber eyes.

My assailant is tackled away from me. I hear the gnashing of teeth and the swipe of sharp claws. I scramble backwards, watching as my wolf fights with the dark figure that attacked me.

I blink and the figure is suddenly gone. Only my wolf remains, blood dripping from its jaws. It steps closer to me slowly and I should be afraid, but I'm not. I reach for my wolf with open hands as it pads toward me and–

I jerk awake.

In my bed, the sun is just rising over the horizon. My hands cover my eyes, trying to rub away the remnants of my nightmare.

Although my wolf continues to haunt my dreams, from the moment I wake to the moment I close my eyes at night, I am plagued by thoughts of Nik.

On the third day, just as I'm beginning to think I might need a therapy session to get over this infatuation, I come back to my dorm to find an envelope has been slipped beneath my door.

My name is written in neat, cursive handwriting on the front. I carefully tear it open and slide out a thick card invitation, embossed with black writing.

You are cordially invited to Nikolai Goncharov's annual charity benefit, raising funds for a variety of humanitarian causes. Auction items will include an original Bianto painting, the Heart of Diamonds and more.

Friday, 6:30pm. Formal attire. 3 Pinevale Drive.

The paper of the envelope is crushed beneath my tight grip. Goncharov? That's new. Maybe he isn't American and Gray is just the surname he's taken on in its stead. I didn't detect even the faintest hint of an accent from him, but Goncharov is clearly Eastern European, probably Russian.

My parents have dragged me along to enough charity balls for me to know that I hate them with a passion. It is performative, a place for wealthy people to flaunt their money whilst pretending to care about those with nothing. When I left home for college, I swore that I would never attend one again. But the thought of seeing Nik draws me in like a moth to a dangerous flame...

There is something about him that makes me think it would be wise to stay away. And yet, all I crave is to be near him again.

Undecided, I am glad when Harper throws open the door to my dorm room with all the finesse of a tornado. She rushes in, flops facedown onto my bed and screams into my pillow.