In the second book of the Set Ablaze series, Bree Simmons' story continues as she discovers more of the supernatural world within Beacon Hills County line.
I don't own Teen Wolf, only my OCs. Once again I will reiterate that I am also a hardcore St...
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And all the people say, you can't wake up
This is not a dream...
~ Halsey
In the town of Beacon Hills, less than a month had elapsed since the dark deeds of the Darach had come to pass. The morning was still young as the shadowy skies continued to cloak the town, allowing its residents to sleep for a little while longer. However, not all of them had dreamless dreams. Within the window of a beautiful house, surrounded by trees, one could say that one of the two inhabitants were cast into a restless dream that would all too soon become a nightmare.
Twisted around in the blue comforter, the boy squirmed and huffed out in his sleep, his eyebrows lowering into a look of desperation. He gripped tightly onto his sheets, bunching them in his hand as if his life depended on it before gasping roughly. His unkempt black hair was dampened while his forehead glistened with perspiration as he mumbled furiously.
"No, no, no, no, no. Don't let them in. Don't let them- No, don't let them in."
He awoke with a jolt, sending his hand flying above him only to hit the metal of a school locker, small lines of light shining through. He breathed heavily, trying to figure out how in the world he got there using his hand to feel across the metal before banging against it urgently. After a few tries, he finally managed to escape the enclosed space, finding himself in the boys' locker room. Barefoot and in his pajamas still, he made his way out into the corridor before coming to the resting place of the lockers.
The school was covered in darkness, the only light was small slivers from the blinds hanging just above the windows. He noticed an open door several feet away from him, waiting for something. Allowing his curiosity to take over, he stepped forward carefully towards it. Inside the classroom, the blinds were twisted into chaos while the desks and chairs looked as if they had been thrown into each other, but none of that seemed to faze him. Instead, his gaze settled on the tree stump that sat in the middle of the room, its roots spread around.
As he neared the nemeton, his hand glided in front of him as if he wanted to just barely touch the tree. Before his fingers could so much as graze the stump, roots materialized out of the middle of the tree, causing him to gasp and struggle as it began wrapping itself around his hand and wrist like it had the intention of pulling him into the nemeton.
Stiles Stilinski woke the second time that morning, darkness still covering this side of the world. He had shot straight up from the position in his bed, panting out as he tried to make sense of his dream, or nightmare. On that, he couldn't quite decide. A figure beside him slowly sat up, resting a gentle hand on his bicep while another softly massaged his head.
"Stiles?" she asked, her forest-green eyes staring at the side of his face in worry, "Are you okay?"
He continued to stare ahead, exhaling sharply before sighing out, "Yeah, I was just dreaming."
