My Rare

AELIA REVA

The train hums beneath me. The window beside me shows only countryside. I flip to chapter one.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Can I sit here, please?"

"…Yeah, sure," I murmur

He climbs into the seat beside me. His legs barely reach the edge of the cushion. He's still smiling.

I glance across the aisle a couple is there, chatting quietly. Must be his parents.

I try to go back to reading.

"You traveling somewhere far?" he asks.

"To a new town," I answer.

"What about you?" I ask.

He shrugs, grinning. "I forgot the name again."

I laugh, "It's okay," I say gently. "What's your name?"

"Delroy."

"You have a beautiful name, Delroy. I'm A—"

"Aelia," he finishes for me. "Aelia Reva."

My breath hitches. My stomach twists.

"How do you know my name?" I ask, voice shaking.

His smile doesn't fade.

He lifts his hand and motions me closer.

I lean in, even though everything inside me is screaming not to.

He cups a hand to my ear.

"I know what you are…"

I gasp and move away from him, but his skin begins to splinter down the sides of his mouth. His jaw unhinges slightly. The voice that spills out next is barely human.

"Im coming for you."

My heart stops.

His fingers stretch across the table toward me, but they're no longer fingers.

They're claws.

He reaches—

And sinks them straight into my chest.

"No!" I scream loudly.

"No!" I bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, drenched in cold sweat. My hands are glowing. Magic, live, raw, sparking faintly along my fingertips like embers trying to become flame.

"Breathe, Aelia," I whisper to myself, pressing my palms flat against the sheets. "It was just a dream."

But it wasn't just a dream.

Not with him in it again.

A knock slams against my door, sharp and sudden.

"Aelia?" Victoria's voice cuts through the air, rushed, concerned. "Are you okay?"

I can't answer right away. I try to pull the panic out of my voice.

"I'm....I'm fine!" I say, though my voice cracks on the last word.

The door creaks open slowly, and Victoria peeks inside. Her brows are furrowed, still dressed in her sleep shirt, eyes soft with worry.

She takes one look at me sitting hunched in the middle of my bed, fists tangled in the sheets, hair clinging to my face and immediately walks over.

She sits beside me without saying anything for a moment. Then she just wraps an arm around my shoulders.

I don't realize I've been shaking until I feel her hand rub slow, soothing circles against my arm.

"Nightmare?" she asks gently. I nod.

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head, because I'm not sure what I'd even say.

She doesn't push. She just gives my arm a light squeeze and pulls back.

"Well, you don't have to explain anything, not if you're not ready," she says with a soft smile. "But you should come down soon. Tyler's on breakfast duty, and the last time he cooked, we nearly lost two wolves and half a vampire."

Despite everything, I let out a small breath of a laugh.

"There she is," Victoria says, standing up and brushing off her shirt. "Come down in a few, yeah?"

I nod again, a little more steadily this time.

"Alright. I'll save you the least-burnt pancake."

She winks and slips out the door.

I sit there for another second, then push myself up and head to the bathroom. My legs are still shaky beneath me.

The mirror greets me with a haunted version of myself. My hair is messy, sticking to my forehead with sweat. My eyes are puffy, rimmed red.

I splash cold water on my face, letting it run down my skin and into the sink in trembling rivers.

"Im coming for you."

I grip the edge of the sink and squeeze my eyes shut.

It wasn't real.

It was a dream.

He's not here.

I force the air in through my nose. Out through my mouth.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

I won't let this follow me into the day.

I dry my face with a towel, grab the nearest blouse I can find, and make my way to the door. My body's still tense, but I paste on something close enough to a smile.

Normal. Be normal.

By the time I make it downstairs, my hair's still damp from the rushed shower, and I'm clenching my jaw so tightly I think I might give myself a headache.

"Is that supposed to be toast or a sacrificial offering?" Caleb calls from the couch, legs kicked up, newspaper in hand.

"It's called rustic, you animal," Tyler shoots back from the kitchen, dramatically waving a wooden spatula that's seen far too many battles. "You wouldn't know gourmet if it bit you on the—"

"Did you burn the eggs again?" Victoria walks in from the dining area, eyeing the stove like it insulted her.

"I prefer the term… crisped." Tyler grins.

"You prefer the term 'setting off the smoke alarm.'"

I hover near the stair railing for a second, trying to let the sound of them settle the last of the dream inside me.

Vincent and Vernon are arguing about something again.

"It's corner-in, you moron."

"No, it's fold-flat, you uncultured dummy!"

"I swear on the Alpha's overpriced rug, I will throw this fork at your eye."

"I'd like to see you try, noodle arms."

Victoria sighs, clearly unfazed, and notices me standing at the edge of the chaos.

"There she is," she says, walking over and looping an arm around my shoulders. "We saved you food before Tyler could ruin all of it."

I let out a tiny smile. "Thanks."

"Sit down, you need sugar."

I follow her into the dining room, sliding into the chair between her and Tyler.

"Good morning darling." Tyler greets me as usual. I smile back.

The others follow, or, more accurately, argue their way to the table. It's loud. Messy. Slightly dysfunctional but oddly comforting.

I reach for a napkin

"Hey firecracker!" I hear Vincent's voice behind me before a hand claps down on my shoulder, hard and I jump in my seat, startled.

A snap of heat bursts from my palm and the napkin in my hand bursts into flame.

"CRAP!"

I throw it down on the table.

Tyler leaps forward with a towel, smothering it like a battlefield medic.

"What in the actual hell, darling?" he asks, grinning through the panic.

"I didn't mean to!" I say quickly, eyes wide, hands still glowing faintly at the fingertips.

"Oh my God," Vincent says, leaning forward with wide eyes. "That was awesome."

"You lit a napkin on fire! at the table!" Vernon exclaims. "Why don't I get cool powers like that?

"I'm so sorry," I mutter, heat crawling up my neck. "Vincent just—"

"Grabbed your shoulder like a lunatic?" Caleb supplies dryly.

"I didn't mean any harm! Just wanted to greet her!" Vincent says, holding up his hands. "I didn't think fire would be involved!"

"You never think," Caleb says from the corner, sipping coffee like he watched it all happen in slow motion.

Victoria fans the smoke away from her face, laughing under her breath. "Okay, okay, nobody's dead, the table survived, and Aelia didn't mean to summon the flames of hell. Everybody calm down."

"Wait, can you do that again?" Vernon asks, practically bouncing in his chair. "Like, can you light Vernon's precious leather jacket next?"

"No!" Vincent barks. "That jacket vost 200 bucks moron!"

"Well, it won't if it's on fire!"

Victoria grabs the remains of the burnt napkin and smacks him with it.

Hector, who's been silently watching from the hallway, walks in, scoffs, and says, "Can't even have breakfast without you idiots doing something ridiculous."

"Love you too, Hector," Tyler coos, tossing a grape at him.

Despite the chaos, despite my still-aching head, I feel… better.

Safer. Like the house itself is a net. A weird, sarcastic, fire-risk net, but a net all the same.

❦︎ To Be Continued ❦︎