I Rejected My Obsessive Werebeast novel Chapter 67

Chapter 67

Aurora’s POV

I dreamed about the old house.

It was years ago. The living room. Sunlight pouring through the floor–to- ceiling windows, spreading warm gold across the wooden floor. Connor was lying on the rug, soaking it up, his tail draped lazily over my knée.

I reached down and scratched behind his ear. He made that low, rumbling sound comfortable, content – and tilted his head to press his cheek

–

against my palm.

–

Those days had been quiet. Before he started standing me up, one time after another. Before Phoebe figured out how to pull him away with a single phone call.

The dream held on that afternoon. He looked up at me. Said something. I

couldn’t hear the words.

Then the image broke apart.

I opened my eyes. The room was still dark, the curtains letting in nothing but a thin grey line of pre–dawn light.

Silas was asleep beside me, his breathing steady against the pillow. The edge of the blanket curved around the shape of his tail.

I stared at the ceiling.

The dream was still there, playing behind my eyes. Connor’s tail on my knee. His half–closed eyes looking up at me. Sunlight falling between our

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fingers like it would never run out.

Turned over and buried my face in the pillow. My fingers gripped the edge of the blanket and held on.

Then, slowly, I let it go.

By the time Silas got up, I was already on the couch.

My notebook was open on my lap, but the pen was still clipped between the pages. Untouched.

He sat down next to me and looked at my face. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“I had a dream.”

“What about?”

“Connor. From before.”

His brow creased. “You’re still thinking about him?”

His expression shifted, let me to see the edge of something hurt underneath.

I shook my head and smiled. “Of course not. It’s just – I ran into him twice down there. The first time, he told me to leave. The second time, he helped cover for us. I don’t know how deep he’s involved. But if he’s working for Lucien, then whatever evidence I’ve got could drag him down with it.”

“How do you sure the arena boss is Lucien?”

“Intuition.”

He watched me for a moment. “What are you going to do?”

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Chapters!

“I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands. “I just keep thinking about the possibility. It sits wrong with me. I don’t want to watch him walk all the way down that road.”

Silas was quiet for a second. Then he said, “You have the right to not want him to get hurt. He was your werebeast once.” He paused. “But I also know you can tell the difference between what matters and what doesn’t.”

I looked at him. Opened my mouth. Closed it.

“Thank you,” I said.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of my head. Then he stood. “I’m going out to grab something.”

I sat alone on the couch.

The sunlight had come around the building now, pouring through the window in a warm rectangle across the floor.

I looked down at my hands. My fingertips were tracing the edge of the notebook spine, over and over, without meaning to.

Soon, Silas came back with a hot coffee and a croissant. He set them on

the coffee table and sat down next to me.

I picked up the coffee and took a sip.

Then I set it down and said, “I want to meet Connor. “Silas turned his head to look at me.

I didn’t look away. “If he can come out to meet me, that means he still has some freedom. If he can’t – or if he refuses – then he’s completely under Lucien’s control.”

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