A Howling Heart

He comes to me every night—a powerful dominance exuding from his sinewy frame, a tempting silhouette. I never see his face entirely. Just his eyes. Eyes that mirror that of an animal ready to pounce.

"Fae." He says my name as he owns me. Possessively and hoarse, it draws me to him like he's where I belong.

Trembling, I respond with a mere whisper. "What are you?"

His lip curls upward as a low growl rumbles in his chest. "Your destiny."

The dream always ends the same. The feeling of power and a disturbing void that I can't seem to fill linger within me. And now that I've moved back to my mother's family home, I find this first night harder than I thought.

It's probably the move, or I need to stop eating junk before bed.

Sweat coats my body, staining my sheets as my chest heaves rapidly. I peer up at my ceiling in the dark, praying the dancing shadows are figments of my imagination and not the nightmares come to life.

It always feels so real.

I lift my arm, hissing at the heaviness still settled upon my body before I swipe my hand across my moist forehead, pushing my hair off my skin. I twist my head and reach for my phone to peer at the clock, groaning when I realize it's 3 am.

Great. Not only do I get to move all the boxes later today because my mom's so sick she can't lift anything, I get to do it with no sleep too.

She refused to hire movers.

I climb out of bed, careful to be quiet as I trudge down the hallway past my mother's room, where I can hear her softly snoring, before I descend the stairs, the old wood creaking beneath my weight.

My mom never talked about her hometown. I'm surprised we even moved back here. She always seemed like she was traumatized here.

Although, right now, we're strapped for cash because she's too sick to work, and I'm doing the best I can, bills have been stacking up, and when my aunt died, and this house was given to my mom, she really wasn't in a position to say no.

When I reach the kitchen, I drag some fingers, wincing as they get caught in my curls. I haven't had time to stock the kitchen or anything, considering we both arrived here at 10 pm and it was too late to start moving things in, but we both managed to throw some bottles of water and snack foods in the fridge.

I really need to cool down.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, eyes moving along the poorly illuminated backyard through the kitchen window above the sink. As I swallow a cool gulp, it gets stuck in my throat, and I begin coughing when I see glowing eyes in the forest pointed in my direction.

What is that?

It must be a creature of some sort.

Wait… Those look exactly like the eyes from my dream…

I really must be losing it.

I lean forward, a death grip on the bottle in my hand as I squint to focus on them. Their glowing intensity makes the hairs along my body stand up, and my heart begins hammering in my chest.

That can't be a person though.

I shake my head. Although the voice attached to those eyes in my dream was human-like, they were the eyes of an animal.

Probably something wild.

A fox or something.

I shake my head, taking another swig of water, and when I turn my attention back to the woods, the eyes are gone, but the anxiousness remains.

I miss home.

This place will never feel like home. The frigid air in the New York mountains doesn't compare to the sunshine in Florida. I don't know how I'll fight off depression when to cope, my mind has already begun to play tricks on me.

Lord, help me.

***

After more restless sleep, aching bones, and enough sweat drenching me to fill a few gallons, I attempt to be productive the next morning. Mom's van is a run-down Mazda with chipped silver paint and the air of a woman on the brink of homelessness, but it gets the job done.

I'm startled when the smooth sound of a southern masculine drawl interrupts my change of thought. "Need some help?"

I spin around, the box is unlevel in my grip, as I set eyes on the stranger who's just startled me. An attractive, lean, tall olive-skinned man greets me with the brightest smile. His afro is perfectly styled, complimenting the sharp angles of his jaw.

The box slips from my grasp, and he reaches for it, but I frown.

"Uh, thanks, but I think I can manage," I say, trying to thwart his efforts to help me. Unfazed by the rejection, the strange guy continues polite small talk.

"You sure? You're new to town?"

I don't know why I'm so on edge but after last night… I'm not sure I feel comfortable here.

I tighten my grip on the box and nod slowly.

"Yeah. We just got here last night."

I narrow my eyes as he nods and places his hand on his chest. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm Nate."

Well, he seems like a nice guy.

Now I feel bad.

"I'm sorry for being short. Didn't sleep well last night. I'm Fae. This actually is my mom's hometown."

I don't know why I feel alarmed that I've relinquished that little fact, but there's no taking it back. His brows arch, and a grin spreads on his boyish face as he nods.

"Oh wow. So what made her want to come back?"

Goodness… it could be anything.

Mainly because she's sick, but I'm not sure diving into our family's business is a smart idea.

"Actually, uh, I really have to get this stuff in. So I can't really talk," I reply, an obvious attempt to douse any friendly banter he wanted to engage in.

Lame and obvious. I'm not that good at confrontation or being rude for that matter…

Nate rubs the back of his neck with obvious tension in his shoulders as he chuckles awkwardly.

"Hey, I can take a hint. Not trying to bother ya. Just offering my help. I actually live down the road. My dad was friends with the woman who used to live here, Amanda."

My aunt?

"Really? That was my aunt."

He nods and crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah. They were pretty close. It's a shame about her."

I nod, my unease ebbing away the longer I talk to Nate.

"Yeah. Guess it runs in the family."

Oops… well it's too late now.

Shrugging, I try to downplay my next words as if I'm not dying inside at the fact I'm losing the only person worth a damn left in my life. "My mom's sick."

His face falls, a sympathetic furrow on his brows as he offers his condolences to me.

"Oh, I'm really sorry. That's pretty crappy."

"Yeah, you're telling me."

A few moments of awkward silence pass before Nate scratches at his brow and clears his throat. "Honestly, I don't mind helping you. I assume your mom's too sick to help."

I nod, hating the fact that my once vibrant and active mother is now reduced to a pale, withering frame. She's always been my rock, so to see her go from someone so free to so restricted by her physical ailments is completely heartbreaking.

And the doctors don't know why…

That's what hurts the most.

She's slowly dying, and they don't know how to help her. Only how to reduce the amount of pain she's in. She's helpless. And so am I.

"I wouldn't want to be any trouble," I add, but the grin on his face says I would be the complete opposite.

He cocks his head sideways and shoots me a look like I'm being ridiculous before he turns and reaches for a box.

"It's all good. Besides, my dad would kill me if he knew I ran into you and didn't offer my help."

"Okay. Sure then."

"Good."

He follows behind me with a box in his hands as I move towards the front door. I'm unsure as to where my mother is—probably sleeping.

I gesture for Nate to put his box down in the kitchen. When I set mine down in the hallway near the bathroom and turn around, I yelp when I almost run directly into his chest.

I didn't even hear him.

"Phew, you scared me."

"Sorry. Seems like a common theme with us." He gestures between us and cracks a smile to lighten the mood.

You're telling me.

I nod and take a few steadying breaths. When he steps back from me, you frown at the picture frame in his hand.

"Is this your mom?" He flips it over and points to an old picture of my mom. She had to be no older than 25, with some guy I'd never seen before. I frown, reaching out for it.

"What are you doing with that?" My voice quivers with anger.

How dare he? He just feels cozy enough to go snooping through people's personal belongings. I didn't know that was part of offering help!

That's a little rude.

He stares intently down at the picture, and I swear I almost see the color of his eyes darken, but it's gone in an instant when he blinks and looks back up at me.

I take the frame out of his hands and frown.

"Sorry, I just saw it and thought your mom looked familiar."

"Familiar? How?" Curiosity beats in my chest like a drum, increasing in its pace until I'm shifting from foot to foot, waiting for an answer that he seems to be refusing to give me.

He doesn't answer me. Instead, he spins on his heel and saunters back out of the house. I follow him, with my jaw clamped shut as questions fill my head.

I hate that strangers seem to know more about my mother's past and history in this town than I do.

For all I know, she could have enemies here or something.

And I'm just letting them walk in.

I know my thoughts are ridiculous, fueled by the frustration of wanting to know in depth about where I came from. I suppress my frustration and follow him back out to the van.

"So where are you working," he asks casually while leaning against the van. My cheeks blaze with embarrassment.

"I actually haven't found a job yet. That was next on my list."

If I can even manage one.

And hopefully soon.

It seems I have trouble keeping a job.

"Why? Do you know of any," I press curiously, eyes widening as I step forward. Wait, Fae, this looks desperate…

I blink a few times and soften my face hoping that our money troubles aren't completely obvious.

He nods. "I actually have pretty good connections around here. I have a friend who's looking for someone to take care of his uncle."

"Oh really? What's the matter with him?"

"He's very ill. At this point, it's just a waiting game. Would you be interested?"

That's hitting a little close to home…

"The pay's good, and the schedule is flexible," Nate adds, hitting all the key points of why it would fit well with me. With Mom being as sick as she is, I need to be able to have days off if she's very weak.

How can I turn that down? It's too good to be true.

"That sounds nice," I admit, finally giving him the most genuine smile I pull onto my face.

At least I'll have a job.

"Some semblance of normal would be great."

He laughs deeply and nods. "Don't worry about it. I could text you later today with the address and time, and you could just roll over there and check it out."

"I don't even know what to say. I really appreciate that, Nate. You don't know how much this helps."

Nate shrugs as he begins carrying another box to my house. "I'm a nice guy."

"Yes, you are."

Although, in my experience, nice guys tend to have ulterior motives.

The day flies by, and after an hour of lugging in boxes with me, Nate leaves promising to text me later, and the anticipation of things going smoothly for once is too much to handle.

Later, after Nate texts me the address, I manage to drive to the outskirts of the town where the house is. It’s an old, brick, Victorian-style home with overgrowth along the sides. The vines climb up the walls but curl away from the windows as if what lurks inside is death itself.

I nervously saunter up to the door, smoothing my shirt before I lift my hand to knock.

It’s okay to be nervous.

The interview is always the worst part.

“Fae.” The deep, husky, but completely alluring voice of a male startles me because it doesn’t come from within the house but off to the side near the driveway.

That voice…

I turn to face the man, eyes widening immediately when they rest upon “Nate’s Friend.”

with wide eyes when you settle them on the friend Nate was talking about. In a faded denim button-up, with a dash of his sculpted pecs in view, a jawline that could cut diamonds, a set of lips that look far too kissable, dark tantalizing locks to shove my fingers through, and eyes that look like he wants to do something a little more wicked than greet me, I am at a loss of words.

Oh my goodness…. It’s him.

“You.”

I blink rapidly, aware that my jaw is on the floor as my eyes scan his face.

No. It can’t be. I’m losing my mind. He’s not the man from my dreams. Just a look-alike…

He stalks towards me, so close his arm almost brushes my side as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

And a sound alike.

My nostrils flare while I take in his large, looming, muscular frame as he invades the entire space of the doorway. He turns around to meet my shocked expression.

This whole move is messing with my head.

He stares at me, his face impassive as he waits for me to elaborate. The only thing that differs from the man in my dreams is the eyes. His aren’t glowing intensely. They are a dark, eclipsing brown.

No. I’m just nervous.

He utters my name again, firmer this time and it rips me from my mental breakdown.

“Fae. Nate said you’d be here.”

Say my name again. Please. It sounds heavenly coming from you. Absolutely, Heaven-

Get your mind out of the gutter, Fae! You’re here for work! W-O-R-K!

I manage to swallow the lump in my throat, aware that I need to close my mouth, and offer a small smile to the man who’s standing expectantly in front of me. Now that the stunned feeling has begun to slowly deteriorate, I’m surprised by his blatant attractiveness.

Wow. He’s gorgeous.

I realize I haven’t said anything for the past minute. I clear my throat and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry. I uh… yes. Nate told me to come here, said you needed help with someone. A relative.”

He nods, and spins around stalking off into the house without giving me a clear invitation. I scurry after him, tucking strands of curls that loosen from my bun as I move deeper into the house, the door slamming closed loudly behind me causes me to jump.

Please tell me I’m not already blowing this.

With what Nate said, this might be the best offer I get.

I find him sitting in the living room, his brow arched when I enter.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

He nods, and gestures with a head nod to the seat. His demeanor isn’t exactly portraying acceptance or thrill. It only makes me more anxious.

“Sit.”

Oh no, he’s mad.

I nod and move to the couch where I settle on the seat. My palms are clammy as I clasp my hands together.

“I’m sorry, what was your name again,” I ask, pretending like he gave it to me but I simply forgot, when we both know that he didn’t give it to me at all.

He takes a deep breath, flexing his fingers into fists as his eyes bore deep into my soul. The silence is suffocating. The longer it remains, I find my heart picking up pace and pounding in my ribcage.

Yup. I already blew it.

I’ve had the worst luck lately.

I sit here quietly, almost convinced it’d be better to dart out of there when he finally speaks.

“I’m sure Nate has explained what I’ve been looking for.”

Okay, so I suppose we will just avoid polite introductions where one reveals his name. If I’m going to be working for this man, then I expect a little more openness.

I nod, and begin opening my mouth to speak when he cuts me off and continues.

“My uncle is in poor health… he’s in need of some care. What are your credentials?” His jaw ticks. The sight sends chills down me, but not the kind from being spooked, the kind from a certain womanly part of you.

If I’m being honest, nothing, but that isn’t a way to score a job.

“Oh well, um… I did some health care work in the old town we lived in.”

I hope he can't tell I’m lying through my teeth. It isn’t right, but in a way, I do have some healthcare experience taking care of my mom. Just none on paper.

“I’m very compassionate -”

He leans forward. “You’re lying.”

The certainty of his accusation startles me. I blink rapidly, flustered by his words as I attempt to regain my composure and appear insulted by his insinuation despite the fact it’s incredibly true.

How did he know that?

“It’s the way you present yourself. Your body…”

He wraps a meaty arm around his torso and cups his chin as he narrows his eyes and scrutinizes me like I’m an exhibit to be studied. I hate his probing gaze and the way it not only makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, but how dominating it is.

My body?

“What do you mean?”

“The way you carry yourself, Fae.”

He licks his lips, amusement flickering on the corner of his mouth as he eyes me uncomfortable shifting in my seat.

We are complete opposites.

What do I say now?

“Look…. Mr -”

“My name is Matias.”

Never heard that name before.

His name replays in my head, and the longer it bounces around in my skull, I begin to feel heat stirring within me that travels from my toes upwards to the area between my legs.

“Matias…” I swear you hear a low growl after I’ve uttered his name on my tongue, but I dismiss that thought. A man like him? Growling? It’s not plausible.

I might as well be truthful with him.

“I have no real experience. I haven’t worked in the healthcare field. I’m just a failed community college student who ended up dropping out a semester before graduation because my mother started getting sick.”

I don’t know why I’m saying all of this. It’s not like he’s going to care.

“Your mother’s sickness, I would assume you’ve gained experience taking care of her, no?”

“Well, yes. She’s still able to be independent somewhat, but I have helped her.”

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his powerful thighs.

“Advice? Lead with that next time. You get more from the truth than you do bullshitting people.”

“Like you?”

And, my feet are back in my mouth.

I expect anger from my outburst. A man like him doesn’t seem to be the type to take interruption too kindly, but instead of a malicious look in his eyes, I’m met with a slight hint of amusement as the corner of his lip twitches upward.

“Sorry,” I rush, hands waving as I begin to explain why I’m on edge. “I am running on like no sleep and I-”

He interrupts me by holding up his hand. “Don’t apologize. When you speak something, own it. Yes, I’m blunt. I have to be.”

“What does that mean?”

“I am the man of my family, therefore I can’t cower because I’m afraid of hurting people’s feelings.”

I fidget with the end of my shirt, hating how small I feel at the moment.

“So, your mother’s been sick?” He begins again, allowing me another chance to save the interview before I’ve ruined the opportunity completely.

Not a topic I’d love to dwell on.

“Mhm.”

“How long?”

I remember the first night I distinctly remember. It was 11 pm, and she’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and collapsed on the floor and there was blood trickling out of her mouth. I couldn’t wake her…. No matter what I did, I couldn’t wake her. Scariest moment of my life.

“I can imagine.”

D-did I just say that out loud?

I laugh awkwardly and tuck some strands of hair behind my ear. I always fidget when I’m nervous because I’ve always avoided awkward situations or conflict so my mind has found ways to distract me from them.

“Look at me.”

I slowly lift my gaze from the ground, dragging them up his muscular legs to the thick rigged stature of his chest and arms to that face that’s sharply attractive. Every time I look at his face I feel a stab in my lungs and it’s hard to breathe.

I don’t know whether I’m just overly attracted to the guy, or offended by him.

I swear I hear his voice in my head saying one word.

Perfect.

He clears his throat and my eyes move to his throat as images of teeth flash in my mind. I lift my hand to my forehead, pressing it against it hoping my behavior can be explained by a fever, but I am in no such luck.

“What can I give you?”

“G-give me?” I stammer at his insinuation because my brain is conjuring up some not-so-PG-rated things.

“What do you mean?”

Is he talking about hours or pay?

Because honestly I just want to be able to support my mom.

“What do you want, Fae?”

The way he’s looking at me combined with the attraction I feel for him and my lack of sleep, I accidentally blurt out what I’m thinking.

“You.”