With a bark to let her know that I’m about to overtake her, I lunge forward. The ground churns beneath my paws. My toenails dig into the dirt, propelling me ever faster.

But something isn’t right. My body feels heavy. I should be running faster, but I’m slowing down. My bones ache. My muscles shriek as I feel them stretching too far, and then tearing.

I can’t feel the wolf, only my human form, which is a painful hulk of flesh and blood. I drop to my knees when I see it. The wolf that was me is still running. Each stride brings it closer to Calla. My wolf runs with his alpha, free and full of joy.

I’m kneeling in the dirt and I begin to scream, “Calla! Calla!”

But she doesn’t come back.

My mouth was open, my throat on fire. I knew it was the screaming that woke me. I’d been calling out my sister’s name in my sleep. That had happened too many times. It seemed to be the only thing that could pull me from that particular nightmare. And this time the dream had held me captive, even through the door opening and closing. Even through someone joining me in the room.

Ren was taking his turn as my cellmate again. He was also in wolf form again, but when he saw my eyes open, he shifted into his human body.

For a moment I felt grateful, but a wave of sickness pushed any relief away. I hated that nightmare so much. Pushing myself to my hands and knees, I crawled to the opposite side of the room.

“Bad dreams?” Ren asked.

I laughed, but what came out was a cracked, gurgling sound.

Ren jumped to his feet, and I marveled at the quickness and ease of his movement.

“Coming out!” Ren called through the small slit high in the cell door. But when the door opened, he didn’t leave. I heard him murmur quietly to whoever stood guard in the hall. A couple minutes passed. I didn’t move. Ren didn’t move.