My hand slides down my body, under the waistband of my jeans, and glides along the folds, finding the bundle of nerves, already slick with need. In front of me, golden eyes watch from the deep shadows of the woods, silently encouraging me. The security hut is cold against my back as I ride my hand, feeling myself propelling closer and closer to whatever is coiling inside me, begging to be unleashed.

"Please," I moan.

"Soon," the voice growls from the darkness. "Soon, you'll understand."

"Now," I plead, so close my core feels like it's on the cusp of exploding.

"Not yet. You're not ready."

The blare of my alarm yanks me out of the dream and tears me away from the edge of climax. I shoot up in bed, grasping at the sheet, holding it against me, my pulse still racing. Beside me, someone groans, and I glance over, relieved to see Brody. Then I realize I'm naked, and I freeze, the alarm still going off.

"Can you stop that?" he mutters, putting the pillow over his head.

I hit the button, and last night comes rushing back. For the last few weeks, I've been restless at work, unable to completely focus, as though I'm waiting for something to happen that never does. Another dog sighting, a camper who can't obey the rules, or another random visit from Hailey, but it's been quiet. Too quiet.

The other night, unable to take it anymore, I called Brody in the middle of the night, and he came to visit me. When he got there, at my insistence, we had sex for the first time against the side of the security hut. But the whole time Brody was going on about how hot it was, how amazing it was to be inside me, the restlessness wouldn't leave. He didn't even try to give me an orgasm.

Honestly, that might have been my fault. As excited as he was to have sex with me in a public place, he was equally worried about getting caught and so his dick was out of his pants and inside me pretty fucking quick.

All of it was quick and dissatisfying, and not one second of it quelled my restlessness. Last night was basically a repeat, except because I didn't have to work, we were in his bed rather than pressed up against a cold security hut. He made an attempt to get me off last night, but I couldn't get there.

Then there are these infuriating dreams where I'm at the hut, and that voice is there, those eyes, but I can't figure out who it is. Every night, I get so close to coming apart, and I never get there either. I always wake up before I come. Always.

My boyfriend can't do it, my dreams can't do it, and the other night when I tried, even I couldn't do it. It's like my orgasms have gone on strike, which has left me with an ever growing ball of frustration coiled in my core.

The next time I have an orgasm, I'm going to take out ten city blocks with the power of it, I swear.

"Aren't you going to be late?" Brody mutters.

Shit. I throw back the covers and scoop up my clothes, hopping into my underwear and jeans and sliding my sweater over my head.

I grab my keys off his nightstand, and I run down the stairs of the apartment, glad I didn't have to greet any of his roommates at this early hour.

If I pedal hard enough, I should make it to class just in time. No books or other materials, but at least I can listen to the lecture.

###

That night, I take the bike path toward the state park. We're inching closer to the shortest day of the year, and darkness is heavy around me. The street lights that are supposed to glow overhead are shorting, and I've got the light from my phone in one hand, trying to keep the path in sight while steering with the other. As you can imagine, it's not going well.

Brody offered to drive me, and I should have said yes. Where he seems to think sleeping together has brought us closer, it's only made me feel less connected. Before, I could pretend the sex might be enough, but now that I know it's not, it's hard to act as though this relationship can ever be what I need.

Stable and safe should have been the ticket. That's what I should want, what my brain tells me I need, but my body and my heart aren't in it. Not even a little bit.

It doesn't help that Hailey has done a one hundred and eighty on him. Rather than telling me he'll never be the right man, she's been encouraging me to give him a shot, to use my dreams as fuel for my relationship with Brody. But even she says he's good enough for now, as though she understands there's something more for me out there.

I just wish I understood what it is that I actually need. Everything I've tried or thought would fill the void in me hasn't done it—not giving into my desires, not taking the drugs, not dating the right boy, not keeping excessively busy, not living in the stillness or seeking chaos. Nothing. No version of my life that I've tried has fit. When I first started the state park job, most of my life felt... Different or better or something. These last few weeks, it's changed back, as though that sense of rightness or contentment never flickered at the edges of my consciousness.

Forever doomed to be a square peg going in a round hole. No matter how I twist or turn my life, I don't fit in it.

Ahead the wolves howl, and I slow my pedaling. Hearing them isn't unusual during my shift, but there's something about the sound tonight that makes me slow, uncertain. It's too early for this much chatter, and the pitch is different than normal, even if I can't pinpoint how.

Feral, almost. Angry. Or frantic? A chill races down my spine.

I hold up my light, trying to catch anything in the wide, short beam. Overhead, the lights spark to life and die at infrequent intervals. If it wasn't normal for all technology in Cape Beatrice to be a bit wonky, the lights situation coupled with these weird calls might freak me out.

It takes a lot to kick my heartrate up a notch.

Then at the edge of my light, a tall broad man appears, and for a second I think I recognize him, but when he bares his teeth, I know I don't.

My heart kicks.

"Run," he growls.

I drop my bike and my phone, and I take off down the path, not even questioning whether this is the right thing to do. A long dead instinct has taken over, and inside, I'm screaming, screaming so loud it drowns out all other thoughts or sounds. Blindly, my feet manage to stay on the path without any conscious thought from me. The last thing you're supposed to do when being pursued by wildlife is turn your back and run, but the man on the path wasn't an animal.

His teeth said otherwise.

Something snaps at my heels, and I cry out as a shot of agony races up my leg and along my spine. There's so much pain, that I start crying, but I keep running, somehow still on my feet.

You're stronger than you think, the voice in my head says. Turn and face them.

They'll kill me.

They'll kill you if you keep your back to them. Turn. Stay low. Leverage their momentum to fling them over. You'll get the first. He'll be there for the second.

For a reason I can't explain, I trust the voice in my head, which doesn't feel like mine. But who else could it be, other than my subconscious trying to take care of me?

I skid to a halt and swing around, crouching as low as I can. Something black flies at me full tilt, and I let instinct guide me, not giving myself room to think. Somehow my hands land in thick fur, and I'm sweeping the gigantic wolf over my head, throwing it much farther than I'd think possible. A sharp cry of pain or surprise follows, but I don't have time to think about it, because there are dark shapes circling all around me.

It wasn't one or two wolves. The fucking voice in my head is going to get me killed.

Then out of nowhere, a flash of gray lands in front of me, bigger and broader than the ones circling. Then a second wolf, a slightly darker gray jumps into the fray on my other side, backed up so I'm wedged between them, a wall of fur on either side.

I don't understand what's happening, but the snarls and snaps sound vicious, as though they're all on the cusp of tearing each other apart.

My heel burns with the injury I suffered, and I cover my head, hoping I make it out of this alive.

Then it grows quiet, and when I look up, all the wolves are gone, and there are two men in their place, their backs to me, talking in low voices I can't make out.

"I thought I was going to die," I whisper, more in shock than actually considering my words.

"That was the goal," one of the men says, his tone grim. "I agreed. I fucking agreed and they still came after her."

"Insurance," the other male says. "If she's gone, you're not going to back out."

"I haven't seen her in weeks."

"Come on, brother. You've got to admit something funny is going on. I didn't hear her scream, only you did."

"I haven't seen her in weeks," he reiterates.

"How would anyone know that? Trident's got that fucking no trespassing sign lit up like an amusement park."

"It seemed like the safer option."

"Maybe it was when you were with her, but now that you're not? None of us know what the fuck you're thinking. Just because you agreed doesn't mean you mean it."

"I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't mean it."

"Excuse me?" I say, trying to stand up, and failing when my legs wobble underneath me.

"Fuck, Em. You're bleeding." The one man comes closer, and he sweeps me into his arms as though we've known each other longer than the last thirty minutes.

But when our gazes connect, a rush of feeling hits me. I know him. "Aidan?" A sharp, stabbing pain hits my head, and I press my palms into my temples. It's like saying his name has set something off in my brain. "It hurts so bad. Why does it hurt so bad?"

The other guy comes over and peers at me, seems to be scanning my eyes that I can barely keep open with the pain.

"Witches be witching," he mutters. The two of them stare at each other over my head. "This is fucked up, Aidan."

"Someone's been in her head," Aidan agrees.

"Which means there's a reason to be there. What the fuck did you do?"

"I didn't do shit," he says with a growl. "I've kept my fucking distance."

"Obviously someone doesn't agree. Call your locksmith." He taps the side of Aidan's head.

"Aidan," I gasp, barely able to get his name out. "I don't feel good."

Then everything goes black. 

Updates should be weekly from now on, but I'm not going to commit to a specific day yet. 

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