Chapter 205: The Weight of the Dream

Cold air clawed at Sophia’s lungs as she struggled to breathe. Her heart thundered in her chest, wild and uneven, every beat echoing the terror that still pulsed through her veins. The remnants of the dream clung to her. She could still see everything. It was a dream, yes, but it had felt real, extremely real.

She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t obey at first. Her fingers trembled as she pushed away the blanket tangled around her legs. The world swayed, her vision swimming between the shadows of the room and the soft glow of moonlight spilling through the window. Each breath she took was ragged. She was wheezing, as if the air itself resisted entering her lungs.

Orion watched her cautiously. It was like she didn’t even realize he was with her. He’d felt the tremor of her fear — it was faint, but it was undeniable, and he was sure it was due to the bond. Her emotions were all over the place. It was a mix of fear that twisted into horror — horror that made her shake uncontrollably.

"Sophia," he said quietly, his voice low and rough with sleep. He reached for her, but she had already swung her legs over the edge of the bed, trying to steady herself.

Her bare feet hit the rug on the floor made from the skin of an animal she couldn’t recall at that moment.

She took a shaky step toward the washbasin, one hand gripping the table for support as the other pressed against her racing heart.

"Sophia..."

"I just... I just need a second," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Orion hovered close, torn between giving her space and gathering her back into his arms. The air was heavy with the ghost of her terror; even the hearth, long gone cold, seemed to hold its breath.

Sophia reached the basin and splashed water onto her face. The water was icy, biting against her skin. She hoped it would chase away the dream’s residue, but the reflection that stared back at her from the rippling surface was pale and haunted. Her lips were colorless, her eyes wide — the same eyes that had stared into the Trihydra’s.

Behind her, Orion moved — a blur of silent precision. He crossed to the small kitchen corner, grabbed a cup, and filled it with water. When he returned, Sophia was still gripping the basin like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to reality.

"Here," he said softly, offering her the cup.

She didn’t even look up, only took it with shaking hands and drank in desperate gulps. The cold hit her throat too quickly, making her cough. Orion reached out, his hand moving in slow circles across her back until her breathing steadied again.

"Easy," he murmured. "Slow down."

When she lowered the cup, her hands still trembled. Orion took it gently from her and set it aside before facing her fully. His hand lingered at her back, steady, reassuring.

"What’s wrong?" he asked finally, his voice quiet but firm. "What happened?"

Sophia swallowed hard. The words lodged in her throat like stones.

"I... I... I had a dream," she managed.

Orion frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "A bad dream?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. I..." She swallowed. "I stabbed you."

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them. Then Orion’s mouth curved into a faint, wry smile.

"That’s quite the dream," he said.

She turned to look at him, her voice trembling. "It’s not funny."

"I didn’t mean it as a joke," he said quickly.

He stepped closer and pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her shoulders until her face was pressed against his chest.

His warmth was immediate. Solid. Steady. His heartbeat thudded against her ear. There was no bleeding from him, and he didn’t stare at her — broken or hurt by her betrayal.

"There’s no way you’d stab me," he murmured into her hair. "You like me too much."

Sophia’s hands clenched against him. "Orion, I’m serious," she said. "This isn’t the first time. I’ve had this dream before — but I didn’t stab you then. This time was... different."

He pulled back slightly, enough to see her face. Her eyes were glassy, reflecting the dying moonlight like mirrors.

"How different?" he asked, voice low.

"I don’t know," she said. "It just... felt real. Too real. I could feel the knife in my hand, the blood... I could hear your voice asking me why." Her voice cracked. "It was like I betrayed you. Like I’d done something terrible."

Orion brushed a strand of hair away from her face and sighed softly. "It was a dream, Sophia. Just a dream. Maybe it’s the stress affecting you?"

"I know it’s a dream," she said to him. "I know that, but it doesn’t... it felt so real, Orion. I can’t..."

He didn’t press her. He only tightened his arms around her again, his chin resting atop her head. "Breathe," he murmured. "You’re shaking."

She hadn’t even realized it. Her whole body trembled, as if the cold had burrowed into her bones.

"Breathe with me," he said again, slower this time. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

He inhaled deeply, exaggerating the rhythm so she could follow. She matched him, haltingly at first, then steadier, her breaths falling into the cadence of his.

After a long silence, he pulled back and studied her face again — the dark circles under her eyes, the way her lips trembled even as she tried to hold herself together. He sighed quietly.

"Wait here," he said, and moved to the hearth.

Sophia watched as he crouched before it, the faint muscles in his back shifting beneath his shirt as he stacked logs and kindling. Sparks flared to life a moment later, orange light licking against the cold stones. The flames grew, crackling softly, their warmth pushing back the chill that had gripped the room.

Orion stood, dusting his hands, then took the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. His hands lingered there, rubbing slow circles over the fabric as if he could coax warmth back into her soul.

"You’re freezing," he murmured.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the fire, watching the flames dance and curl. The light painted her face in soft gold, hiding the pallor of fear beneath it.

Orion sat beside her on the edge of the bed, close enough that their shoulders touched.

"I’ve had bad dreams before," he said after a moment. "Some of them, extremely scary. I had a dream I killed Ronan one time, but that didn’t happen."

"Really?" she asked him.

He nodded. "It was after the enclave attack. I had a hard time sleeping. Anytime I fell asleep, I always saw myself killing one of the pack members — people I call family. So maybe... maybe the dream is tied to something from your past," he told her.

"Really?" she asked him again.

He nodded. "Maybe not in the exact same terms — because dreams are like that — but maybe something did happen, and that’s what your mind is trying to remind you of," he told her.

She paused as she absorbed his words. While there was sense in what he said, she could not shake the fact that something about this dream didn’t scream to her about her past. But she just didn’t know what it could mean... and that was the issue.