Page 1 of Primal

Prologue

Rennick

I’ve been here before, and like every other time I’ve found myself in this damn dream, there’s this unrelenting, nagging sensation sitting heavy in my chest screaming at me that I’ve forgotten something important.

No, not just important.

Vital.

The demanding feeling has my heart pounding, flooding anxiety into my veins, and my wolf clawing to be let out—to be allowed control of our shared existence. He knows just as I do that something has been taken, but we can’t figure out what that something is or what this recurring dream is trying to tell us.

At least fifty times now I’ve stood in this mist-filled forest created by my unconscious mind, and each time, it’s exactly the same. The dense, white fog obscures my vision and chills my heated skin, causing goosebumps to prickle down my arms and spine. Nothing changes here. Down to the pine needles in the snow-covered ground to the silence that sits thickly in the cloudy air, it’s always the same.

That’s why I know when I turn around,she’llbe standing there waiting for me.

The silhouette made of the same ghostly fog stands between two snow-dusted trees, the long, draping length of translucent hair blowing in nonexistent wind. As always, none of her facial features are definable no matter how hard I squint. Any attempt to move closer to the ethereal figure is futile. If I take one step toward her beckoning frame, she retreats a matching step. In the past, I’ve done everything I can think of to get closer, even charging forward in an all-out sprint—in both man and wolf form—but nothing allows me to get closer to her than I am right now.

I gave up trying twenty dreams ago, just as I have given up trying to speak to her knowing she will never answer my calls. All I can do is stand here and try to settle the unease racking my bones until I wake up in my own bed gasping for air as I’ve done countless times before.

This time, though, I find it hard to control my breathing or keep my wolf at bay. Never before in one of these illusions has he been as restless as he is now. Keeping my grip on him is quickly becoming a losing battle as he fights against me. In my twenty-eight years of life, unconscious or not, never have I lost control of my animal side. While my beast is as dominant as they come, I’ve always shown unparalleled restraint with not giving in to my baser instincts. It was a skill I was applauded for when I first shifted over a decade ago. But now, like a length of disintegrating rope in my palms, my restraint is fraying apart.

My teeth ache, my canines turning into fangs, and my eyes shift into their gleaming wolf form, making my vision sharpen. My wolf is fighting me harder than he ever has. The desperation radiating from him and seeping in his howls hassweat breaking out across my forehead.Is it possible to sweat during a dream?

I’m about to try and find a way to force my body awake and out of this fantasy I’m trapped in when I hear it. A sound that bleeds into the white mist and envelops me in a calm warmth I’ve never experienced before.

One simple word spoken is enough to have my wolf stilling, peace settling within.

“Ren,” the detached but sweet, honey-like voice calls to me, tugging at the organ pounding against my ribs.

Ren.

Nobody calls me that. Friends and pack members I’m close to have called me Nick for as long as I can remember, but the new moniker has my knees buckling. On unsteady feet, I stumble forward, barely catching myself before my kneecaps hit the frozen ground.

With my shaking legs once more beneath me, I raise my chin, directing all my focus back to the hazy figure who has been haunting my subconscious mind.

My breath catches in my chest.

She’s moved closer. Close enough for me to meet her gaze for the very first time.

The unique orbs staring back at me are shining with a mournful longing that I can’t help but feel my own soul mirroring back at her. I’m so enamored with the appearance of her eyes I barely note the way the rest of her facial features are still distorted. Each time I try to focus on what the shape of her nose or lips is, they smooth into the white vapor she’s comprised of.

Her left eye shimmers with a rich amber, and something deeply innate tells me if I were closer, I’d see the brown shift to liquid gold under the right light. This color alone is mesmerizing, but it’s the uniqueness of her right eye that trulyholds me captive. Perfectly divided, the iris is half golden and half icy blue. The blue, the same shade as the frozen northern lakes, pulls me so deeply in I’m moving before I notice I’ve lifted my foot off the ground.

Like a beacon, I’m unable to fight against the desire to be closer. My fingers tremor at my sides, itching to know what she feels like. The voice in my head I’m certain belongs to my wolf begs me to breathe her in so we can memorize the wraithlike woman’s scent. To our disappointment, we can only pick up on the frozen pines and earth surrounding us.

“Ren,” she repeats, my body having the same reaction to her voice as it did the first time she called to me.

“Who are you?” I ask, the desperation in my tone obvious to my own ears. “Why do you keep bringing me here?” That’s the question I’ve been dying to know since I first started dreaming of her eight months ago.

Despite the ten feet of space still between us, being in her presence is doing something to my soul. It’s mending pieces I didn’t know were broken. Each shard knitted back together allows me to stand a little taller and breathe a little easier. Two things I never thought I struggled with until now.

“You have to remember,” her disembodied whisper pleads with me, her anguish matching mine. “It’s time. You have to remember.”

“I don’t understand. What do I need to remember?” I can’t find any comfort in the fact that she’s all but confirmed what I’ve already known deep inside. Not when every one of my nerves have come alive with a frantic kind of energy. “Please,” I beg. “I need to know.”

“Soon—”

Gasping for air, as though I’ve been submerged underwater for far too long, I jolt awake in my bed.

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