Chapter 23

Marcus got nightmares regularly, a fact that was hardly surprising.  Even if he didn’t dream of that moment when he found his pack slaughtered, he had plenty of nightmare-fodder from bad run-ins with other Werewolves since.  Sleeping in his lupine form seemed to help, as if the dreams were scared away by his primitive fangs and claws, but this time he distinctly remembered drifting off in human form, with a very different wolf guarding his sleep.

It seemed that one moment Marcus was closing his eyes to a dove-grey, overcast sky with a black wolf on his chest, and the next moment Marcus was blinking up at a sky too blue to be real, and a familiar, human face staring at him.

The world around him was different, the close, clinging underbrush and darkly lush grass replaced by a rolling hill of sunlit green and nothing else for miles, as if the robin’s-egg sky just swallowed the world at the edges.  There was nothing but grass, the occasional cott