Breakfast

My body jolts, and I gasp as my eyes fly open. I’m back in my room, the familiar walls closing in on me, offering none of the warmth or intensity from moments before. The sun is peeking through the curtains, casting golden light across the floor, and outside, the cheerful chirping of birds drifts through the window.

But I don’t feel light or cheerful. I feel cold. Alone.

My skin is drenched in sweat, but it’s the kind of cold sweat that clings to you, a stark contrast to the heat and fire that had enveloped me in my dream. My heart aches with an unfamiliar longing.

Who was that man? And why does his presence haunt me, even now?

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shake off the lingering sensation of his touch, but no matter how hard I try, my mind won’t let go. It replays the dream over and over—the way he held me, the intoxicating scent of honey that clung to him, the overwhelming sense of connection, like I was meant to be there, with him.

Why do I crave so badly to be back there?

Needing to clear my head, I force myself out of bed and head to the shower. The warm water pelts my skin, but it does little to wash away the thoughts spinning in my mind. Every detail of the dream clings to me like a second skin—the wolf, the man, the way my powers refused to work.

I scrub at my skin, hoping that with every pass of my hands, I can scrub away the confusion and desire that lingers. But even as I rinse the soap away, I can still feel his presence like a shadow, lurking just out of reach.

Stepping out of the shower, I focus on the small tasks—anything to distract myself. Dry off. I close my eyes and will be my water magic to course through me. A second later, a pleasant heat washes over my body, and when I open my eyes, I’m perfectly dry. My hair falls softly around my shoulders, as if the water was never there.

A small smile tugs at my lips, impressed by the ease with which I’m growing into my powers. At least that’s one thing I can control.

With a quick clap of my hands, I summon my clothes for the day—a short but cute purple-and-white babydoll dress paired with slip-ons and my new pouch hanging at my side. It’s light and easy, fitting my mood, though deep down, I feel anything but light.

I close my eyes again and focus on the smell of home, letting my powers guide me. A blink later, I reappear in the kitchen, the warm, familiar scent of bacon and eggs hitting me in full force.

My stomach grumbles, and I smile, suddenly feeling a bit of that familiar comfort. I rush over to Nana, wrapping my arms around her, clinging to her warmth in a way that feels almost desperate.

“Good morning, darling,” she says softly, returning the hug with a squeeze. “Have a seat. Did you sleep well?”

I drop into the chair at the table, shrugging my shoulders as I try to shake off the lingering remnants of the dream. “Good morning, Nana. I honestly don’t know… I had another strange dream, and it’s leaving me so unsettled. I don’t even understand how it’s making me feel.”

Nana gives me a soft, knowing look as she places two plates of breakfast on the table. She claps her hands, and instantly, two steaming mugs of coffee appear next to our plates. The smell of the rich brew is enough to soothe a little of the tension coiled inside me.

“This smells amazing,” I say, taking in a deep breath, trying to focus on the simple pleasure of Nana’s cooking. “I’ve really missed waking up to your delicious breakfasts.”

She smiles as she sits down across from me, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’m glad you’re home, sweetie. I’ve missed cooking for you. But I can see something’s weighing on you. Tell me about this dream.”

For a moment, I hesitate. How do I even begin to explain the strange and intense feelings swirling inside me? How do I put into words the way the dream feels so real, so vivid, as if I’ve lived it before? The way my heart seems to yearn for something—or someone—I don’t even fully understand.

But as I look into Nana’s eyes, I feel safe. She’s always understood me better than anyone. If there’s anyone who can help me make sense of this, it’s her.