Sinclair

The doctor knocked gently at the door. I glanced at him, annoyed by another interruption. Was this best for Ella, all these interruptions?

“How is she?” the doctor asked, approaching Ella’s side. Cora moved to Ella’s head, making room for him.

“The same,” I murmured, returning my gaze to my mate’s pallid face. “No changes.”

“What does that mean, Doctor?” Cora asked, wringing her hands.

“Well,” the doctor replied, leaning down to examine Ella’s face. “I’m not encouraged. If she were improving, she would have awakened by now.” He moved to the machines, lifting the printout they’d been generating for hours. “But,” he murmured, studying it, “it doesn’t seem like she’s getting any worse.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Cora asked, her eyes pleading. She, like me, wanted to do something, anything.

“Go home,” the doctor said frankly. “Get some rest. There’s nothing you can do here. Go home, and prepare yourselves.”

“Prepare ourselves?!” Cora gasped, her eyes widening. “For—?”

“For whatever comes next,” the doctor interrupted, meeting her gaze steadily. “Panicking won’t help. If she survives, she’ll need you, all of you.” He glanced at the rest of us. “She’ll need you to be strong. It’s not helpful to stand here worrying. Go home and let us care for her.”

Cora nodded anxiously, but my anger simmered.

“I’m going nowhere,” I snapped, my eyes fixed on the doctor, who returned to the bedside.

“I understand,” he replied, meeting my gaze. “But you two,” he said to Cora and Roger, “I don’t recommend you stay.”

“All right,” Cora murmured, steeling herself. She looked at me. “But we’ll be back tomorrow. And if anything…”

“We’ll keep you informed,” the doctor replied brusquely, leaving the room without another look. “Leave your number at the nurse’s desk.”

“Abrupt, that one,” Roger said, frowning at the empty doorway.

“I kind of like him,” I mumbled grudgingly. “He’s no coward.”

Roger shrugged as Cora moved to his side. “Sinclair,” she said seriously, “how long have you been awake?”

I glared at her. What a stupid question.

“Seriously, Sinclair,” she insisted. “The doctor is right—we’re not helping Ella by exhausting ourselves. When she wakes, she’ll need you at full strength.”

I shook my head. “I can’t rest. Not when she could…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t even think the thought.

Cora nodded, seeming to understand. Then, she blinked rapidly. “Wait, Sinclair,” she rushed. “Ella told me once about how you…you meet? In her dreams?” I snapped my head towards her. “Can you…” she waved a hand towards Ella’s still form. “Can you meet her there? Maybe…give her some hope? Some encouragement?”

I shook my head slowly, grinding my teeth. Why hadn’t I thought of that? But still…

“No,” I growled. “Not without her invitation. She has to bring me into the dream, and I don’t know…” I leaned forward. “I don’t even know if she’s dreaming, or in a state to invite me…”

A flicker of hope ignited within me. Could it be possible?

“Sinclair,” Cora pleaded. “Please, try. It can’t hurt.”

I considered it, then slowly nodded. “All right,” I agreed, against my better judgment. If I fell asleep…and she wasn’t dreaming, or I couldn’t…God, the wasted time. I would never forgive myself if she…if she slipped away while I…

“Go,” I commanded, not looking at them. “I’ll do this alone.”

I heard them murmur and then slip from the room, closing the door. I took a moment to look at my mate, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

“I’m coming, trouble,” I murmured. “Please, let me in.”

Ella

Spin, spin, spin, I thought, giggling as I spun in my dream forest. It was so good to be back—where the air was cool and damp, with trees above and roots below. I spun in circles, as I used to love to do as a child, laughing. “Spin, spin,” I sang, biting my lip with joy.

How long had I been spinning? My wolf yipped, just beyond my vision. But when I turned, she was gone. Silly pup, where did she go? I heard her again, and spun, seeing a flash of her rose-gold fur. Then, gone again.

I stopped, frowning, searching for her, and was hit with nausea.

“Oof,” I said, falling to the ground, clutching my stomach. “Ohhh, too much spinning.” I giggled, laughing at myself. Silly girl, making myself sick. I lay back on the grass, enjoying the feel of it, waiting for the nausea to pass.

It didn’t. It worsened, making my head pound.

“Ohhh,” I moaned, putting my hands to my head. Silly girl, silly dream. My head spun uncontrollably, and I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the twisting trees.

I wished, suddenly, for my mate. For his arms around me, his chest against my back, his scent overwhelming my senses. That, I knew, could fix me, wipe away this horrible feeling. He made my head spin in the opposite direction. He might even me out.

Then, he was there. I knew the moment he arrived, and I smiled, propping myself up on my elbows, looking for him.

“Hello, gorgeous,” I murmured, seeing him at the woods’ edge. I drank in his look—tall, rippling muscles, dark power. But something was off. His image flickered, like my wolf had been doing. One moment he was there, the next gone, returning shimmering, as if in a haze.

“You stay put,” I commanded, pointing at him.

“I’m trying,” he said, laughing softly. “Concentrate, baby. Bring me in.”

So I did. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, wanting him here.

And when I opened my eyes, he was closer, only a few feet away. And—yes—I smelled every detail of him on the breeze. I closed my eyes, relishing the scent.

His chuckle brought me back. “Well, trouble,” he murmured, smiling. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. What have you been doing?”

“Spinning,” I said, laughing and throwing my arms up. And then—bloop! I was gone. Somewhere among the clouds, perhaps totally alone, spinning again. Spin, spin, spin, I thought, turning in the soft nothingness of fluffy white clouds.

Had I just talked to someone? I couldn’t remember.

Spin, spin, spin, I thought, giggling. In the distance, I heard my wolf howl. I paused, then ignored it. What was a wolf, anyway? Here, there were no wolves, only clouds…maybe I, too, was a cloud…