Twenty Six year old Blake Hunter is the Alpha of the largest pack in the region. Finding his mate is the last thing on his mind.
But, in the midst of dealing with uninvited relations, aspiring future Lunas and increasing rogue attacks on his easter...
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In the darkest part of the night the dream returned, just as it had every night since she first woke up in the Blackridge pack.
She swore in frustration as she opened her eyes and looked around. She was standing once again on the rocky beach at the edge of the vast, empty lake. Familiar immense evergreens towered over her mockingly, their branches stretching out towards the water like fingers pointing her towards the nightmare to come. The air tasted of snow and ice and her breath drifted in misty swirls around her face as she stared out across the water.
She knew this place. She visited it every night.
Ever since she'd lost her memories - the night the thick blanket of fog had stretched across the lake in her dream - she'd returned to the same stretch of water every time she closed her eyes. Only now, the air was clear and nothing obscured her view of the shore beyond.
She could see mountains stretching up behind the tree line on the opposite side of the water, the rock faces tinged a bluish grey as they arched up into the clouds. The sky was overcast with snow and the landscape seemed to shimmer as the white powder reflected the light back into her eyes.
Her body immediately tensed as she looked around. The scraps of memory left behind by previous dreams returning to her and filling her with a deep sense of foreboding for what was to come.
Wake up, she whispered furiously to herself.
The seasons had changed. Not by much, but enough to suggest that some time had passed. She never remembered the details when she was awake - they came back to her only when her subconscious pulled her roughly back to the rocky shore.
The snow lay a little thicker on the ground. The ice had spread out across the water until the edges looked thick enough to walk on. The lake sparkled with a thousand dazzling crystals, beckoning her closer. In the depths of winter, the water couldn't be more than a deadly four degrees; icy fingers of certain death lurking beneath the surface. But she never walked out onto the ice.
She looked down at herself in disgust. Dressed only in the same thin cotton dress as always, it hung down to her ankles; her bare feet crunching the snow underneath.
What kind of fool dresses like this in the middle of winter?
Icy shivers swept across her skin; but the cold didn't create the chill that rippled down her spine. The peaceful, calming scenery didn't fit with the feeling of dread that was slowly building up inside her. A deep sense that something was wrong.
Her legs were leaden, refusing to budge from the spot where she would watch the nightmare unfold before her. She willed them to move, to take even a single step. But she might as well have been trying to shift the mountains themselves.
Increasingly convinced that she'd been here before, awake, and out of the fog of a dream, she tried to picture the lake in spring or summer. But it was like listening to someone describe a scene from a movie, then trying to picture it in her own mind.
