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Skylar

The last thing I remember was the witch, Raina, gripping my hands. The next minute, I'm in a familiar place. As unwelcome as this dream usually is, at least it's familiar, I think, as I run in the dark through the woods.

I wish I didn't have to run. The thought floats through my mind, and I immediately stop running.

The brush is thick on either side, and something is lurking in the dense shrubbery. I can feel its eyes on me. This time, though, I'm not afraid. I walk forward, towards the edge of the cliff I have jumped off so many times. As I'm peering into the void, I hear something behind me. I turn around, a cloaked figure emerging from the shadows.

A black snake slithers out of the hole of the cloak arm, dropping to the floor, hissing as its hood flares. I look back up at the cloaked figure, the hood casting shadows over the face. There is one, I just cannot see it. The snake slithers forwards and I take a step back, my foot now at the edge of the cliff.

A small breeze passes over my body. I look down to see my scent mixed with swirls of slate-gray and midnight-blue smoke, the color of my favorite scents, sandalwood and pine. This time, there is a unique iridescent pattern and a unique scent, joining the slate gray and midnight blue smoke as it swirls with mine.

"Dmitri," I say, the name spoken causing the snake to hiss.

The hooded figure holds his hand out to me, silently beckoning me to take it. It is big and smooth. It is not Dmitri's, though, I would know his hands from anywhere.

I look at the faceless, hooded figure, not feeling any fear. I hear a branch snap nearby. I look to my side and see Dmitri, dressed in the suit he had on at dinner. He has concern written all over his face. I wonder what is wrong. I want to comfort him. I look back at the hooded man, his hand still outstretched, the snake at his feet. He intrigues me, and something calls to me to take his hand.

"Skylar," I hear Dmitri say, his voice bringing my gaze back to him.

"Skylar," I hear a small, weak feminine voice. Almost as if it is coming from afar. It has been in my dream once before.

"Skylar, you must take Dmitri's hand," she says, stronger, louder, and more insistent.

I look back at the hooded figure before I hear Dmitri's voice again, pain lacing it, "Skylar."

I turn back to Dmitri, taking a step forward. As I grab his hand, little sparks explode at our touch and move along my body. I close my eyes, lost in the ecstasy I feel.

"Skylar, wake up, dammit!" I'm jerked awake, Dmitri's face inches from mine, his gorgeous green eyes filled with concern, which swiftly turns to relief.

"Why are you shouting at me?" I gently push him back.

He looks dazzling with half his hair pulled up in a ponytail, the other half left down. It looks windblown, like a surfer. He is wearing a short-sleeved light-blue button-up shirt, the top couple of buttons open, hinting at the fine body beneath. He is in beige cargo pants that look as if they were designed just for him.

Sitting up causes my already pounding head to go into a full-on pounding frenzy. I lean forward, closing my eyes, as I cup my head between my hands.

"Ow, how much did I drink?" I ask, squinting.

It feels like someone punched me in the head, multiple times.

"Here, take this. It will help with the headache." He offers me a glass of water and two yellow pills.

As I reach out to take them, I notice my wrists. I hold them up in front of me, disbelief washing over me. The once blotchy brown birthmarks are now two intricate black snakes. Black snakes, like my dream. Coincidental? I think not. Time to ponder it now, I think not as well.

"There's a lot we need to discuss," Dmitri says, pulling my hand to his and dropping the pills into my palm.

"I told Raina, Ally, and Benjamin I'd let them know when you are awake so they can swing by."

He hands me the glass of water. I swallow the pills, downing the entire glass of water. I didn't realize how thirsty I was. Dmitri tops me up, and I gulp down another glass.

"Umm, Dmitri, where are we?" I take in my foreign but exquisite surroundings.

I'm in a huge, very comfortable, white four-poster bed with blue and white bedding. Sheer white material is draped over the sides of the bed's tall poster frame, moving slightly as the breeze catches it. The opposite side of the bedroom has enormous glass sliding doors pushed open, letting in a gentle sea breeze. The doors open directly onto a deck with steps leading down to the beach. There is an awning partially covering the deck, and I can see some lounge chairs and a table up against the side. The sea is lapping the shore a short distance away, and there is even a ship far out in the distance on the horizon.

The room is huge, with a door on the left, which I assume leads to the rest of the house. There is an opening to the right that leads into a closet; beyond it is not visible. It's simply furnished, with some rugs on the floor and a couple of chairs off to the side of the room. The walls are whitewashed and adorned with abstract oil paintings.

A smile appears on my face, and I look at Dmitri, who has been watching me.

"Do you like it?" he asks, a smile appearing on his face. "My villa." It sounds like he is seeking approval.

"I love it, Dmitri," I say as my gaze once again scans the room.

"I moved you here the day before yesterday, after we couldn't wake you up..." he trails off, the smile fading from his face.

I make a move to get up, and Dmitri stands from his spot at the side of the bed, his hand outstretched to help me.

Movement brings on a bout of dizziness, followed by a sharp pain in my head. I take a minute to compose myself while Dmitri holds my hand to steady me.

As it subsides, I suddenly become very aware of what I am wearing. I look down. I'm in the thinnest white chemise nightie. It's so white it makes my skin look a little tanned.

"What am I wearing?" I look up at Dmitri blandly to find him smirking.

"It's the only thing I could find." The smirk disappears from his face when he sees my eyebrows raise.

"This," I say, gesturing to the slip of a nightie, "this is the only thing you could find for me to wear."

"It is," he says, trying to suppress a smile, his eyes roaming my body.

"I didn't want to root around in your stuff," he gestures to my bags on the floor by the bed, "so I got you this to wear."

There is pride in his voice while his eyes linger on my breasts.

"Please tell me this isn't Elanor's," I groan, looking at him pleadingly.

"Would I do that?" He sounds hurt, as if I have offended him. "I asked Gloria to get it, and she sent a driver to drop it off."

Too much effort for this itty-bitty piece of fabric, if you ask me. I move towards my bag and bend over, quickly realizing my mistake when another bout of dizziness consumes me, nearly causing me to fall.

Before I know it, Dmitri has lifted me in his arms, concern on his face.

"I'm fine," I say reassuringly. "I just need a bath and to brush my teeth, then I'll be good as new." It comes out weakly, but I force cheerfulness I don't feel into my voice as the non-stop drumming continues in my skull. Dmitri already looks way too worried.

He carries me through the side opening, which leads into a massive walk-in closet. There are cupboards and shelves on one side, while the entire opposite wall is lined with mirrors, with a chaise lounge in the middle. We pass through before entering the bathroom. I don't even know if I can call it that. It's as big as my lounge and kitchen at home put together, if not bigger.

The left-hand side has glass panels separating a massive shower with two huge showerheads from the rest of the bathroom. Next to that is a double basin with large mirrors above it. At the end of the room is a two-step, raised, Lycan-form accommodating bath that sinks to the same height as the platform. Probably so that you can take full advantage of the view of the ocean you are presented with through two massive windows. The other side of this dream bathroom houses some cabinets and a door that conceals the toilet. The floors and walls are all cream marble with black lines and speckles. It's breathtaking.

I feel as though I am in some sort of dream. One I don't want to wake up from considering the reality that I eventually need to face about everything that has happened. Later, I think to myself, I'll deal with everything later.

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