A Sea Of Bloody Hearts

№48|Hive Mind More Like Hive Mess

№48|Hive Mind More Like Hive Mess
>───⇌••⇋───<

Jerald stroked Raelyn’s hair as she rested on his chest that night. It had become an unconscious movement. There was something about her smooth black tresses that helped him think clearly.

He gazed up at the skylight and released a deep sigh as his fingers combed through her black locks. Calm and ready, he replayed Lorenzo’s words.

He knew better than to doubt the enforcer. Despite all the crude things he said in the past, this warning hit Jerald to the core. “What am I missing?” he muttered to himself. This single question was driving him mad. 

“You know this is what he wants you to do,” his wolf said, interrupting his thoughts. “Jerald, we’ve seen this before. It’s just his mind tricks.”

Jerald raked his fingers down his face. “You’re probably right, probably just mind tricks.”

Saying it and believing it were two different things. Though the reassurance from his wolf helped, the thought still lingered in the back of his mind. What am I missing? He shook his head. Mind tricks, he reminded himself. 

Jerald rested his head on the pillow and wrapped his arms around his mate,  unaware of the true meaning of Lorenzo’s warning. He nuzzled his face into Raelyn’s soft, silky black locks. He sighed in delight; she smelled amazing. He kissed the top of her head and muttered, “I love you, Rae.”

Just as his eyes were beginning to close, a sharp whimper echoed throughout the bedroom. Jerald’s eyes shot open, blazing a bright blue. He unwrapped his arms from around Raelyn, careful not to wake her. He knew Raelyn was a heavy sleeper, and so was Evan.

He rushed into the conjoining room and saw Ivory clutching the side of her white hair as she sobbed into her knees. “He’s back… he’s back… no… no!” She shook her head rapidly, her nails clenching her scalp.

“Ivy?” Jerald turned on the lamp to get a better view of her. She sobbed at the sight of the wolf, rushed over to him and hugged his waist.

“Make it stop!” She sobbed into his chest.

“Bomboncita (sweetie/sweet pea),” he muttered, lifting her up as she sobbed harder, “shh… shh.. It was just a dream.”

“It felt so real.” With a whimper, she looked up at the wolf and clenched his back. His calm eyes centered the small child.

“What got you so scared?” Jerald asked, laying down on her bed..

“He put his fingers in my hair… he pulled out clumps of my hair. He said I was disgusting and that white hair was only for special people. He said I didn’t deserve anything special.” Ivory felt more tears coming on.

“Well, I think your hair is beautiful,” Jerald whispered. He stroked her soft white hair. “I think you’re going to grow up to be a beautiful woman, just like your mama.”

“Why do you like my hair? Dad said it looks like a bottle of whiteout spilled on my hair and it never came out.” Ivory sniffled and looked up at Jerald with a frown.