Home > Defeating Nightmares (I.S.S. #3)

Defeating Nightmares (I.S.S. #3)
Author: M. Sinclair







Silver lightning strikes in a galaxy of obsidian.

I had barely felt the impact of the massive wolf crashing into me, pinning me to the ground and taking the full brunt of Hate’s power. When he jolted, though, letting out a vicious growl that vibrated through his body and across mine, I felt it.

I felt all of it, especially when he instantly transformed from wolf to man.

A man whose gaze I could not look away from, captured and held prisoner by his intensity. A man whose gaze held an infinite depth and timeless nature. A man whose gaze warned me that I needed to look away—warned me that if I didn’t, I could be in serious trouble.

I still didn’t look away.

Silver lightning strikes in a sky of obsidian—I didn’t know how else to describe my wolf’s eyes, black orbs that brought to mind the expanse of the universe and its endless void, but filled with intense streaks that shifted and changed like an electrical storm.

It was like everything in my life had led up to this time, this moment, and I knew instinctively that I was supposed to meet this man. Something in my chest settled. I no longer felt like I was searching, completely wrapped up in the eons of time held within his gaze. This nightmare was something I had never come across before, and I was mesmerized by everything that he was.

His pupils were completely absent. There was no separation between them and the rest of his eyes… Or maybe his pupils were so large they made it so his eyes were completely black. Either way, the intense stare made it feel like his attention was hyper-focused on me, that everything about him was focused on me. I had a feeling he could see each and every inhale and exhale that came from my lips, although it was debatable whether or not I was breathing at this point.

I knew I needed to regain my focus, not only for the safety of my nightmares, but because the threat had grown past just Hate. I couldn’t see how it had, but I could feel it.

The darkness invaded the stone-covered clearing and created a whirlwind of malice that was feeding the god terror, strengthening him. Yet, instead of moving, I held my wolf’s gaze, knowing now why he had been hesitant to shift out of his wolf form.

Everything about his gaze was threatening—it was in his nature to completely overtake those around him. I should have been scared or looked away, but instead I focused on the feeling that was growing inside of me, the one that told me the danger didn’t matter—that he was more important than that. That we could withstand whatever power Hate threw our way.

At the same time, the dreams from before came flooding back, and I realized just how easily he had influenced my thoughts and my reality. He had created a space where so much had happened between us in a small amount of time, yet until now, I hadn’t been able to remember that.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about his ability to do that.

My body heated, thinking about his touch and the dirty, heated words he’d whispered in my ear, bringing me to climax… but part of me felt wronged. Why did he get to take those away from me? Why did he get to keep that moment to himself? I wanted to remember this nightmare. I wanted to know more about him, and his ability to remove that experience from my mind was troubling, to say the least.

Then again—I shouldn’t have been completely surprised. It was clear to me that he was different from the many nightmares around me. Different in a way that came with experience and age.

From the start, I’d known Saint was far older than myself. Amun as well, although younger than Death himself, obviously. In fact, I wasn’t completely sure Saint really had an age—it seemed his energy had always existed in the universe, and because of that his power was vibrant in its lethality and darkness.

This nightmare, though—my wolf—was different. Ancient. Like primordial ancient. As in he had existed in this form for millennia. I could see it in the heavy darkness that coated the space around him and how his magic pulled dominantly on everyone else’s, demanding their attention. Demanding their obedience.

The power radiating off of him was absolutely unreal.


His voice was accented, just like in the dreams, the quality and tone unplaceable in nature despite being familiar. Timeless. It sent shivers across my skin. My fingers tightened on his bare shoulders, the umber shade marked with silver scars that covered most of his torso, at least from what I could see. If he moved off me, I’d be able to see a lot more of him than just his torso… You know, because he was completely naked and pinning me to the ground.

Despite it totally not being the proper time, I couldn’t help but notice how hard he was, his length pressed against my stomach. I fought the urge to squirm. I wanted him lower, between my legs, and I wanted to tighten my thighs around his muscular frame as he pounded into—

What the hell was wrong with me right now? I was having thoughts about a stranger I’d never had before. Did this man have some type of magic? Like not just his innate power that I could sense, but something having to do with seduction?

Then again, he wasn’t really a stranger. At least, he didn’t feel like one.

Holy shit, now was totally not the time to focus on this. I could feel we were in literally so much danger—what was I even doing right now?

“Arabella.” His voice was more commanding this time as he repeated my name, the sound nearly drowned out by a massive boom that went off around us. I jolted in reaction, still not breaking eye contact—unable to. He swore, lifting me from the ground and flashing across the clearing, delivering me into the safety of the treeline.

This wouldn’t do, though. I had to get back to my other mates, had to make sure they were okay. So why the hell couldn’t I look away?

His rough hand ran up my jaw as he looked over my expression. “I need you to break eye contact with me, my moon. I need you to look away and then we can work on getting your”—a primal sound broke from his throat, clearly unintentionally, as he quickly tried to move past it—“mates out of this situation.”

He was completely correct, of course, but I didn’t really think it was my fault I couldn’t look away. I mean, this had never happened before. Partially to blame was his natural scent that was weaving around me, pine and night air, making it so all I could think about was him and his wonderfully suffocating hold. My tongue darted out on my bottom lip as a rumble left his throat.

“Who are you?” I asked softly, realizing he had never given me his name. All of the sudden, it was extremely important I knew who he was. So much so that I didn’t even bother questioning why he couldn’t be the one to break eye contact. All I could focus on was learning his name.


“I can’t look away.” I swallowed, feeling almost panicked. “You have to tell me. I don’t understand what’s going on right now, but I have to know. I don’t think I can look away until then.”

“It’s the bond,” he growled, not explaining himself further, his gaze turning distant for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. “Ashur, my moon. My name is Ashur.”


All the air got vacuumed out of the clearing at once, his name ringing like clear bells in my ears as a smile formed softly on my lips, thrilled to finally have something to call him. Ashur. That feeling of contentment and settling filled not only my chest but my entire being, making me shiver in pleasure.

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