Every night that I close my eyes, I fall into dreams filled with one of two things: nightmares of darkness or dreams of the Porterson brothers. While one obviously seems better than the other, it’s not always that easy. While my dreams of darkness frighten me, my dreams of the Porterson brothers make me feel extremely uneasy. And I constantly worry that I do have a dream seer ability, which means they could actually be visiting me in my dreams. And that means they might just be able to see all the… strange stuff that fills up my mind when I close my eyes.
Take for instance, right now. I’ve become very aware that I’m in a dream with all of the Porterson brothers, so much so that I feel as if I’m awake.
We’re sitting in a room made of tree branches and vines are hanging from the ceiling.
“I feel like we’re in a tree,” I say to no one in particular.
I’m sitting in the center of the room, on the floor in front of a stone fireplace. The six of them are sitting in a circle around me, all of them similar yet at the same time so different.
“That’s because we are, silly,” Foster says with a teasing glint in his eyes, a small detail that reveals I’m indeed in a dream, since in real life Foster’s eyes are usually haunted by sadness.
I start to smile when one of them purrs.
“She always looks so adorable when she’s confused.” Porter’s lavender gaze burrows into me, an amused smile quirking at his lips.
“No way,” Easton disagrees with a wink. “She’s most adorable when she blushes.”
I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“Wanna bet?” With a smirk, East begins to pull up his shirt, revealing his rock solid abs.
I roll my eyes again, but feel my cheeks warm, and he grins.
“Guys, you’re both wrong,” Hunter interrupts with his golden eyes fastened on me. Then he kneels up and moves in front of me, wetting his lips with his tongue. “She’s the most adorable when I bite her.”
Confusion whisks through me as he leans forward and presses his face against my neck, inhaling deeply. I feel as if I should move—run—but I remain frozen, bound to him by an invisible force—by the altered link.
“You smell so good,” he whispers against my neck. “I bet you’ll taste even better.” Then he sinks his teeth into my flesh.
I gasp, feeling as though I should scream, but instead I relax against him as he sucks the blood from my vein, devouring me until there’s nothing left—
My eyelids pop open and I suck in a huge breath, my hand darting to my neck. It takes me a few calming breaths to realize it was just a dream, that I’m okay, that Hunter didn’t turn all vampire on me and drink my blood.
Luckily, tonight, Foster slept on the couch, something he occasionally does. If he had been in here, I probably would’ve woken him up and then had to explain what was going on. Not that I’d ever tell him what I just dreamt about because, um, yeah, that’d be embarrassing.
I rub my neck, peering around at the bedroom blanketed by darkness, trying to convince myself that it was just a dream, that Hunter isn’t a vampire. But as my fingers graze along my neck, I swear I feel two pin-size holes marking my flesh.
Panicking, I jump out of bed, turn on the light, and rush over to a mirror hanging on the wall. Then I sweep my long, wavy brown hair to the side and frantically scan over my neck. But the skin is smooth and bite free.
Releasing an exhale, I stare at my reflection. My lightning blue eyes stare back at me and appear bloodshot, probably from the lack of sleep I’ve been getting. Not that all of my dreams are that intense, but with me having questionable dream seer ability, I constantly wonder what’s real and what’s not. Then there’s also the worry of others seeing what I dream.
Will my life ever be normal?
I sigh, knowing the answer is probably no, and head back to bed to try to get some sleep and attempt not to think about why the hell I dreamt that Hunter was a vampire, or how it felt when he drank the blood from my veins—how it felt to briefly die when he drank the life from my body.
But it’s all I can think about as I shut my eyes and drift into the darkness.