The dreams started off has just dreams, Peter assumed a lack of sleep was catching up with him and causing his mind to create strange dreams. Until he realised, they weren't just dreams. They were flashes of the future, somehow. He couldn't explain it, could barely understand it until he discovered Roman was having them too. The two of them together were discovering the targets of the Vargulf. The deranged wolf targeting the innocent. They couldn't work out the pattern, could barely get to the victims before the Vargulf. It was killing them both, trying to understand how they could stop it. None of the victims were connected, not to each other or to either Roman or Peter. That was making it even harder.

Peter wished he'd never said it. Expressing how much easier it would be to catch the Vargulf if it was targeting someone they knew. Waking up from the worst dream yet, sweat dropping from his skin, another glimpse into the next victim. You. His dear girl. His almost girl. Why did it have to be you? The girl he'd fallen in love with. He'd been wishing all this shit away so he could finally make you his. He was doing this to protect you, make sure the Vargulf never came for you. His worst nightmare was happening, you were the next victim.

Roman saw it too. The flashes of you, your house, could hear your screams— see the red staining your room. They knew they didn't have long, they never did before the dreams became reality. Peter was more scared then he ever had been, he would never forgive himself if something happened to you. It would be his fault. He couldn't even explain it all to you, how do you begin to explain this situation to someone? Hell, you didn't even know that werewolves were real. Let alone that he was one, and a rogue wolf was coming for you.

He could see the panic in your eyes, as you heard the sounds outside your house. Peter knew it was tonight, he'd refused to leave your side all day. Not that you understood why. "You just have to trust me, okay? I couldn't cope if you got hurt."