Night Terror
The first tremors of Erick’s sleeping form begin silently, the tiny ticks of his long fingers and naked toes barely noticeable. But Caden senses them. He listens to the bartender’s smooth skin brushing against the soft sheets and the quickening pace of his shallow breaths with a faint smile on his lips. Erick’s rosewood scent grows stronger with each breath Caden draws in, tempting the impatient wolf inside him in a way no other creature has. Every flutter of Erick’s thick black lashes against his sleep-flushed cheeks makes him want to kiss the gorgeous man lying in his arms. Caden wants to ease the youngling out of whatever dream is occupying his mind with tender nuzzles and soft nips so he can gaze into those hypnotizing gray eyes that haunt his every thought.
However, Caden hesitates to wake the sleeping bartender. A part of him wants to know what Erick is dreaming about. Are the bartender’s memories of the life he left behind in Seattle pulling him back to the past? Or is Erick dreaming of a future that only revealed itself a few days ago? Caden can’t begin to imagine what scenarios the youngling’s mind is conjuring while he sleeps. He can only hope that when the bartender wakes, Erick is refreshed and ready to face what awaits him.
Seconds lengthen into minutes. Yet Erick’s dreams fail to fade away like all illusions of sleep eventually do. They persist, clinging to him like desperate ghosts that refuse to accept their fate. Caden’s wolf whines softly in his head. The harmless twitches that had begun in the bartender’s fingers and toes have escalated into erratic jerks and sharp jolts that travel up his arms and down his legs. Erick’s endearing whimpers and soft growls from just moments ago are rapidly deteriorating into an incoherent string of mumbled syllables and inhuman sounds that set off alarms inside Caden’s head.
“Erick?”
Worry presses down on Caden’s chest. He tries to soothe the frightened youngling with hushed words and gentle touches. But Erick’s movements only become more brutal. Caden can no longer ignore the signs that the bartender’s dream has become a full-blown nightmare, one that could trigger Erick’s wolf to emerge and kill them both. Caden’s arms tighten instinctively around the struggling man, his need to protect Erick burning its way through his mind’s warning not to restrain the dreaming wolf.
“No... why...” Erick mutters. “I... good... no bad... no bad.”
“Shhh, you are alright. I am here. You are good. Such a good boy. No one will hurt you. I will keep you safe.”
Caden speaks calmly and slowly. He repeats the same simple words on an endless loop in hopes they reach the bartender’s terrified mind. If not, perhaps the wolf hidden inside Erick will hear the unwavering promise in his gentle tone and remain dormant like before. Truth be told, it’s difficult for Caden to know which part of the youngling he’s talking to. He assumes he’s speaking to Erick’s human half because the beast that’s been caged inside the bartender has yet to emerge fully. It hasn’t lived its own life to have suffered something so traumatic that nightmares would torment its sleep. Still, the heartrending whines and frantic pleas coming from the man in his embrace reach into Caden’s heart with a clawed hand, scratching at the guilt engraved onto his soul.
He trails lingering kisses across Erick’s forehead and whispers words of encouragement against the bartender’s heated skin. But nothing seems to help. Still unsure which half of Erick is in distress, Caden surrenders part of himself to his wolf. His voice deepens, his eyes shifting from blue to gold as he and his wolf work together to try and pull the youngling out of whatever dream world his mind is trapped in. Yet, no matter what they do, the tremors rolling through Erick’s body continue to become more violent with each passing second. Frightened whimpers deepen into threatening growls. The bartender’s mumbled words sharpen with hatred. A foreboding sense of helplessness washes over Caden as millennia-old memories are unexpectedly dragged into the light of the present.
“Let go!... Release me!... Why?... Liars...! All liars!”
Spittle flies from Erick’s lips as his voice grows more animalistic. He recoils and flinches at every touch Caden places on his body like a frightened animal. His reddening lips curl into a sneer spawned by hatred. Erick bucks wildly in Caden’s strong arms, his legs kicking blindly with impossible strength. He lashes out and rakes his now small yet sharp claws across Caden’s neck and chest, scratching trails of red into the Aevi’s peerless skin.
The more Erick struggles, the more determined Caden is to calm him down, despite his wolf snarling at him to take his hands off the youngling.
“Caden, what the hell is... Holy shit!” Rook yells as he pushes aside the privacy curtain.
Erick thrashes madly, the flat sheet and blanket of the bed entangling around his twisting body, which only worsens the deteriorating situation.
Using a voice he hasn’t used in centuries, Caden orders, “Erick, wake up.” But his compelling command has no effect on the bartender.
“... trusted you... why... no love...?”
Taking Erick’s head in his hands, Caden speaks more softly this time and pleads, “Open your eyes. Please, baby. It is just a bad dream. It is not real.”
“It is for him,” Rev says, pushing past Rook.
Caden’s head snaps towards her, a warning growl dying in his throat the moment their gazes meet. He was expecting to see pity for Erick or maybe even annoyance at being disturbed in Rev’s eyes, not the fear he sees swallowing their dark brown depths. And it’s not the kind of fear that can be dismissed with a nervous laugh. No, what he sees in her eyes is also in Rook’s, who’s standing next to her with his knife drawn and raised.
“Caden, get away from him,” she says. “Now.”
“Not until Rook puts away his knife.”
Casting a warning glare at Caden, Rook replies, “If he shifts on this plane, we’re all dead.”
Caden’s eyes blaze a brilliant gold. “Put your knife down. He won’t shift.”
“Are you blind?!” Rook yells. “It’s already started. We can’t stop it.”
“We cannot,” Caden says as he turns back to Erick. “But he can.”
“The fuck he can! Look at him!”
“It’s true,” Rev interjects.
Rook stares at his friends like they’re both crazy. “No way. We’ve seen it so many times before.”
“I know. But Caden told me Erick has almost shifted three times already in the last few days. Once, the night he saved him from the kidnappers, again after Erick escaped from the condo, and another right before he brought Erick to my house.”
Slowly, Rook lowers his hand holding the knife. “But how?”
Rev lets out a short sigh. “I’m not sure yet. Erick’s preliminary blood test shows that he’s a pureblood, which is also impossible. Nevertheless, this kid keeps doing the impossible. Caden explained that the last time Erick started to shift, he was able to speak to the wolf inside our young prodigy and convince it to remain dormant for at least a little while longer.”
The look of shock on Rook’s face would have been comical if they weren’t facing possible death at thirty thousand feet. “Impossible.”
Rev’s smile wavers. “Impossible or not, it’s the truth.”
Caden hears his friends talking behind him, but he’s not really listening. His entire focus is on Erick. The youngling’s body is practically seizing from whatever his mind has concocted to drive him mad. He can barely hold onto the bartender’s thrashing body.
“Rev! Why won’t he wake up?”
“First, let him go, you idiot,” she snaps. “You told me yourself how much he hates being restrained. You’re only making things worse.”
Reluctantly, Caden pulls back and slides off the bed. He stands at the edge of the mattress, unwilling to retreat any further, and watches for Erick’s tremors and flailing limbs to quiet. But they don’t. They only worsen.
Rev grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. “It’s not a nightmare. I believe what he’s experiencing is a sleep terror.”
“Explain,” Caden bites out.
“Nightmares happen during REM sleep. Terrors occur outside of that phase. Something is disrupting his brain waves, causing him to lash out violently.”
Caden’s heart suddenly feels too heavy in his chest. “His wolf.”
“Possibly. Probably.”
“How do we help him,” Rook asks.
“We don’t. It has to run its course. We can’t wake him. If we do, he’ll be even more scared and confused. He’ll shift for sure.”
“But his... his wolf’s emotions are what’s triggering this night terror,” Caden points out. “I need to calm him down, or they’re both dead.”
He moves to lie back down on the mattress, but Rev stops him with a firm grip. “Don’t lay a hand on him. Whatever is causing this, whoever hurt him or his wolf, we don’t fully understand it yet.”
Caden nods and then lowers himself onto the bed. He can barely swallow past the knot in his throat as he begins to speak to Erick’s wolf as he had before.
“You are safe. No one will hurt you. I am here. I will protect you with my life. You need to...”
“Liar!” Erick screams. The muscles in his neck bulge, the veins under his reddening skin rising to the surface like vines choking him. “No... protect! Only hurt!”
Caden feels Erick’s open hands strike his chest before he can even react to the attack. The force of the shove punches the air from his lungs and sends him flying off the bed. His back slams into the inner wall of the jet, which lurches from the powerful impact. Rev stumbles slightly as she rushes to Caden’s side.
The glint of cold steel flashes at the corner of Caden’s eyes, and he moves without thinking, his body flooded with adrenaline and fear. Instinctively, he throws himself between Erick and the unavoidable danger aimed at the helpless youngling. Rook’s blade sinks effortlessly into the powerful muscles on Caden’s back, slicing through his tough skin until it’s buried up to the guard next to his shoulder blade. Yet he feels no pain.
“Caden!” Rev screams.
Rook lets go of the blade’s handle as if it scalded his skin. “Fuck!”
Both ravens rush to Caden’s side. Rev nods at Rook. “Do it.”
With inhuman speed, Rook yanks his knife from Caden’s trembling body and staggers backward.
Rev immediately lays her hands on Caden’s wound. She applies as much pressure as she can without pushing him down onto Erick to slow the bleeding, giving his muscles, blood vessels, and skin the precious minutes they need to mend. Unlike ordinary weapons, Rook’s blade was made from the highest carbon steel in the mortal realm, hand-crafted by a legendary Japanese shokunin, or craftsman, known for his expertise in deadly swords. The metal was hammered, folded, heated, and cooled hundreds of times until the many layers were strong enough to pierce even their virtually impenetrable skin.
It doesn’t take long for Caden to relax under Rev’s touch. Still, she keeps her hands on the clotting wound.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs. It’s a lie, but one he can pass off as truth if it means he can return to Erick’s side.
“Caden,” Rev says guardedly. “He... or his wolf, heard you. This is something more than a night terror. Be careful.”
Without tearing his eyes off Erick, Caden acknowledges her warning with a single nod and takes a step closer to the bed. Hope blooms in his chest like the first warm rays of the morning sun melting the icy frost of a moonless night. If either Erick or his wolf can hear him, then there’s still a chance he can stop the bartender from shifting. However, it’s obvious that words are useless in this fight against an adversary Caden can neither see nor hear. Whoever Erick is speaking to in his night terror has betrayed and restrained the bartender to the point of near madness. So much so that the wolf inside him also feels trapped and helpless despite it only being a dream. Both halves of the man lying twisted on the bed in front of him are fighting for their life. Caden only has seconds to calm them down.
From deep within his throat, a low hum begins to resonate, soft at first, but certain in its tone. His breaths are slow and measured, yet his heart races like that of a hunted deer. The haunting notes rise and fall behind his pressed lips, the melody as ancient as Caden’s wolf. At first, this new attempt at calming Erick fails to have any effect on the youngling. Still, Caden continues, unwilling to surrender to the fates he had turned his back on so long ago.
Reaching the edge of the mattress, he kneels and begins carding his fingers through Erick’s sweaty hair. Caden leans closer, ignoring the hateful curses and dodging the errant punches and kicks the bartender throws at him with an understanding heart and gentle hand. As the seconds tick by, he sings louder. Gradually, the indistinct humming buzzing upon his lips transposes into words of a language nearly forgotten by the modern world.
Erick’s body quiets first. Movements that were quick and accurate only moments ago become lethargic and sloppy. He rolls onto his back, his head lulling heavily from side to side until it finally comes to rest beneath Caden’s tender touch. It takes longer for the venom in his voice to dispel, but gradually, it too can no longer resist the calming melody flowing from Caden’s soul. His screams and howls fade back into tiny whimpers and whines until at long last the only sound that can be heard is the monotonous drone of the jet’s engines.
Caden continues to sing as he crawls back into bed with the exhausted bartender. The stench of fear soaks the sheets and blanket, and his wolf involuntarily recoils from the acrid taste of the scent. Unfortunately, there’s nothing Caden can do about its discomfort right now. So, he settles himself next to the bartender, careful not to confine Erick in any way. However, the longer he lies there, the closer his body shifts to the sleeping man. The act is subconscious, his and his wolf’s need to be in physical contact with the youngling too overwhelming to resist. Unfortunately, the movement sends a shot of pain through his still-healing shoulder, and he winces from the sharpness of it.
“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Rook blurts out, obviously looking for a reason to put space between him and Caden.
Rev places a cautious hand on Caden’s upper arm. “It’s over. You can stop.”
But Caden ignores her. However, now that the imminent danger of Erick shifting has passed, he slips back to humming instead of singing words he thought he’d forgotten. He brushes the back of his fingers down Erick’s flushed cheek and places a feathery kiss on the bartender’s salty skin, his voice never wavering.
With a sigh, Rev turns to leave. She knows that once Caden has his mind set, there’s no changing it. Nothing she says or does will move him from that bed as long as they’re in the air. So, instead of trying to move a mountain, she opts to defuse the bomb she’s trapped with at 30,000 feet, one that is currently wondering whether or not he’ll be alive by the time they touch down in their homeland.
