Dream {Book 1}

Chapter eight

You know, it's funny how you watch kidnappings happen on T.V, hear about little kids taken from their homes at night or from walking home after school. You see signs asking, If you've seen this man, please contact us, made from the kids parents. You feel the pain of what they would feel after years of not finding the child, finally giving up.

They're dead. You would think. They aren't coming home.

But you never imagine it happening to you.

Out of the seven billion human beings on earth, you wouldn't imagine that one person to be you. The chances being one in seven billion, yet you end up with that unlucky one percent. The funny thing about it is that you never really realize what's happening until one day, it hits you like a ton of bricks that were dropped from a building on top of you.

Most times, the person that was kidnapped gives up. It makes me laugh that I am the one percent, but I'm also the one percent that won't give up on getting home.
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I wake slowly, the urge to roll back over and sleep consuming me. I attempt to, only to have last nights events pile up in my head and create a migraine. I groan in pain and sit up with a hand on my head.

My eyes flicker open and I have to blink multiple times to make everything less blurry.

The room was huge to say the least. Right in front of the bed is a flat screen T.V mounted to the beige wall. A door is placed next to it, and another next to the bed. On each side of the bed is a night table and alarm clocks. It's not a fancy room, but way fancier than I've ever seen. A window with a seat for a ledge is to the left of me.

I stay frozen in the large bed, not moving an inch.

Where am I?

I try not to make a sound as I get up and walk over to the window. Beyond the window is a village, people roaming around in wolf forms and human forms. I almost scream until I remember that Dylan told me this already.

Hybrids. This must be a Pack.

Tate's Pack.

Dylan? I think to myself, hoping he can hear me. Dylan, please answer me, I'm scared.

I grip the seat of the window until my knuckles go white, waiting for an answer from my mate. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from the tears that threaten to pour over my eyes.

Dylan, if you can hear my thoughts, please answer. I whimper to myself and sit on the ledge with the duvet wrapped around my torso like I did when I was a child.

Again, there's no answer. I bite my lip to keep from yelling out, from smashing the room to bits. Anger and sadness consume me, filling the crevasses of my mind and heart.

I will kill him. I think to myself. And if I don't, Dylan will.

Isabella? Dylan's frantic voice makes me sigh in relief.

Where are you? I think to myself. Dylan I'm scared, I want you.

I know Princess. He murmurs gently. Just calm down, tell me where you are first.

I look out to the village, catching glimpses of faces and fur.

In a Pack, I think. I think to myself again. I hear him huff in anger.

Goddess damnit! He says through the link. Tate took you to his Pack!

I feel myself fill with fear. Fear of Tate, fear of his Pack, fear of being without Dylan. I let a tear fall down my cheek and wipe it away roughly.