#17 Blossoming Friendship

Aldrich

I swear Ava took ten years off my life, the way she was whimpering and crying in her sleep. My first thought was–somebody is magically attacking in her sleep. I don’t know if that’s even possible. I have a very limited knowledge of magic, given the strict segregation between the magical beings and us Werewolves.

Pain was deeply etched on her face as she tried to ward something or somebody off, her arms flailing wildly.

How was I to know that it was only a nightmare?

I rub my palm over my face, trying to get my heart rate back to normal.

I tried to wake her up while still in my wolf form; I tried nudging her with my snout, placing my paws on her shoulders, hoping that the weight of it would bring her back to consciousness. It didn’t work. The only other option was licking her awake. And licking felt oddly intimate.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to steady my breathing. She’s apologizing again, but I’m barely able to get the words out to tell her she’s not at fault. My back