Alanna was looking at Faolán's chest, lying in his arms, as he slept and she could hear the rise and fall of his rhythmic breathing. Suddenly, he started to get agitated. She leaned back on her arms so she could watch him.
Yes, he was having a nightmare. His brows furrowed, he turned his head, and then his expression was one of pain and despair.
"Faolán?" Alanna shook his shoulder lightly, but he didn't wake up. His forehead was damp with sweat. His mouth opened and he screamed loudly, before sitting up in bed.
Alanna touched his arm gently, but it was a mistake. He was scared and his eyes were still glazed over. He grabbed her by the neck and squeezed. She was strong, but so was a werewolf. They weren't enemies enough to face each other for nothing. And Faolán was an Alpha, which means his strength was far superior to any ranger's.
