Page 69 of Doyle

Not again. I reached deep within, trying to summon my inner fox, to partially shift my claws. But it was no use.

I was trapped, powerless.

Desperation clawed at me. My gaze landed on the spell knife in her hand, and before I could think, I lunged.

I snatched the knife from her, feeling a brief surge of triumph as I plunged it into her side.

But instead of a scream of pain, Liliana’s eyes filled with dark amusement.

The world around me began to blur, the walls of the attic dissolving into shadows.

My heart pounded as the knife vanished from my grip, and with a jolt, I was back in the real world.

I lay there, gasping for breath, the terror of the dream still clinging to me like a second skin.

My hand instinctively reached for the spot where I’d stabbed her, but there was nothing.

No blood, no wound. Just the lingering echoes of a nightmare that felt all too real.

"Michael," a voice called softly, pulling him from the nightmare.

I woke with a start, gasping for breath, and found myself in the bedroom of Doyle’s cabin.

I was sitting on Doyle’s stomach, and in my hands, I grasped a kitchen knife covered in blood… not my blood.

Horrified, I looked down and saw a stab wound in Doyle’s chest, right over William’s special handprint.

Doyle was still breathing… still talking. I must’ve missed his heart by half an inch. A lucky accident.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," Doyle murmured.

I got off Doyle, dropping the knife. It fell to the floor with a clatter.

Liliana’s words came back to me. She called me her secret weapon. I thought of my sleepless nights and the times I sleepwalked.

My heart beat so painfully against my chest, I thought it would burst.

“No…” I whispered, falling to my knees.

“Michael, listen, whatever you were dreaming about, it’s all over,” Doyle said, climbing out of bed.

He pressed one hand against his chest to contain the bleeding.

Why was he being so nice and calm when I had just stabbed him? He should be mad at me.

“Don’t get any closer!” I screamed. “Can’t you see you’re hurt? I hurt you….”

“Michael, calm down. It was an accident,” Doyle told me, but I couldn’t really hear him.

I thought of my moments alone with Liliana, and how sometimes, I’d choose to forget those sessions.

Was she hypnotizing me? Brainwashing me somehow?

When Doyle and his pack ambushed her coven, she had left for the day. Did she know they were going to attack?

My skin prickled with goosebumps.

Did she know I would end up with Doyle or one of his packmates? I remembered her telling me about not keeping all her eggs in one basket.

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