The Wicked Dance | Book 3

8| Marry Me?

A/N: It's been a while! I apologize for not posting. I've been trying so hard to find motivation to finish this series and I finally found it again. Thank you to everyone who has continued to read this story and I hope you enjoy.

My eyes opened and I wasn't at the campfire anymore, I was wrapped in a pair of familiar arms. Bella and Edward talked quietly up front as we rode quietly down the road, Edward speeding like normal.

"You're awake." Jasper's lips brushed against my forehead as he spoke. I felt a shiver run down my spine at the simple touch.

"Mhm." I answer simply, cuddling closer to his chest. He was so comfortable that I ended up falling asleep again.

Once we arrived back at Charlie's, Bella and I got past him and went up to our rooms. I changed into my pajamas and cuddled in bed, waiting for Jasper. I was freezing when he slipped under the covers with me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"Who's out there tonight?" I whisper.

"Jacob. Esme went home already." He informed me.

"This is ridiculous, it's so cold and wet." I say, tugging my blanket tighter around me.

"It's only cold to you, Louisa." Jasper chuckled as he helped me cocoon myself better.

That night, when my dream began, it was cold too. I dreamt I was outside in the storm, the wind whipping my hair in my face and blinding my eyes. I stood on the rocky crescent of First Beach, trying to understand the quickly moving shapes I could only dimly see in the darkness at the shore's edge. At first, there was nothing but a flash of white and black, darting toward each other and dancing away. And then, as if the moon had suddenly broken from the clouds, I could see everything.

Rosalie, her hair swinging wet and golden to the back of her knees, was lunging at an enormous wolf – its muzzle shot through with silver – that I instinctively recognized as Billy Black.

I broke into a run but found myself moving in the frustrating slow motion of dreamers. I tried to scream to them, to tell them to stop, but my voice was stolen by the wind, and I couldn't make a sound. I waved my arms, hoping to catch their attention. Something flashed in my hand and I noticed for the first time that my right hand wasn't empty.

I held a long, sharp blade, ancient and silver, crusted in dried, blackened blood.

I cringed away from the knife, and my eyes snapped open to the quiet darkness of my bedroom. The first thing I realized was that I was not alone, and I turned to bury my face in Jasper's chest, knowing that the sweet scent of his skin would chase the nightmare away more effectively than anything else.

"Are you okay?" Jasper whispered. I nodded as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I had a bad dream." I answered him softly.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asked.

"Too tired, maybe in the morning, if I remember." I mumbled.

"Okay." He chuckled, running a hand through my hair. "In the morning."

"What were you doing while I slept?" I asked.

"Reading." He said.

"What were you reading?" I asked, my voice slow since I was already falling back asleep.

"Wuthering Heights." He replied.

"I thought you didn't like that book." I frowned.