Chapter 1
A week ago from the current day had been one of the worst days of his life. It had started out quite nice; he and his mate had spent the day collecting berries for their evening meal. Against his better judgement, he had allowed for her to go into the woods to check on a few of snares that they had set a few days ago, hoping to snag some meat for the next few meals.
As he looked back on that decision, he was certain that it had been one of the worst decisions of his life, and he hated himself for it.
He could still feel the terror that spiked down the bond that linked the two of their souls together when she died.
The sound of her neck snapping had stolen all the air from his lungs, leaving him crumpled on the ground, his claws tearing at the soft earth as anguished sobs tore from his lips.
He had yanked on the bond, pleading over and over for her to stay with him, to not to leave him in this cruel world that was filled with demons. The one person who had kept all his secrets and helped him conquer his fears was gone, and it was all his fault.
His packmates mostly left him be. They left him to hunt for his own food and keep up with his ownpersonal hygiene. He ate occasionally, only enough food to settle the stabbing pains in his stomach. More than three times a week, he traveled to the Aruanan pubs to drown himself in the heavy liquor that they liked to produce.
“It’ll get easier,” they said. “You’ll go on about your life and forget that she ever existed.”
He had scoffed in their faces then and continued to scoff in their faces. Little did they know that he was being torn apart from the inside out. His grip on sanity was slowly slipping away, but he managed to cover it with a blank expression that concealed most of his emotions. People had always found it near impossible to read him, and still struggled with the chore of it. Now his face was just a cold mask, set in a perpetual scowl along with a deep sadness that made its home comfortably in his once-bright amber eyes.
Ever since her death, he spent most of his time either in the solitude of his den or in one of the many pubs by where his pack was stationed.
The drinks that burned his throat on the way down were the best. They made him forget the pain that he was constantly in and who he was for a little bit. Which was why he had tracked down one of his few acquaintances from one of the other tribes to go have a drink, then two of them escaped off to one of the pubs when the moon was high in the sky.
They ordered the heaviest drinks that were offered and sipped away at them, staring at each other from across the table that they were seated at.
Khaidyn’s expression was worn and accompanied with bloodshot eyes which was most likely due to the nightmares that haunted him day in and day out. Every waking hour, he was plagued by the sound of his mate’s neck snapping, the sound rang through his ears well after he had jolted awake from the nightmare.
His hair was also long and unkempt, the gnarled strands reaching well past his shoulders to the middle of his back by now. He had managed to rake his fingers through it a few times before tying it back with a string of leather that was from his mates’ mating necklace.
His company’s usually bright and keen expression was sobered by the news that the other had brought to him: his mate had died two months ago.
“She’s really gone?” Eric asked for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, seeming a little too shocked to sugar coat it.
“Yes,” Khaidyn sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face, his eyes flickering down to his empty liquor glass. “She’s gone.” his voice faltered then trailed off all together, expression lost in thought. Even though it had only been two months, it seemed like an eternity to him.
Eric sighed and shook a few dying embers off his pipe causing Khaidyn’s attention to snap over to him, the muscles in his back tensing up. “I think you should try to move on,” he said slowly and almost gently while watching Khaidyn carefully then holding up a hand to cut off his snap of protest. “It’s what she would have wanted for you... not this.” he waved a hand, gesturing to Khaidyn’s thin form that seemed swallowed by the cloak that he wore to hide him from prying eyes.
The other male stiffened and sent a blazing glare at the other from across the table, his hand clenching into a fist, causing the clawed gloves that he wore to sink into his palm but he was numb to the pain by now. “I am not going to move on if that means forgetting about her.”
Eric huffed and slouched back on his barstool, voice evening into a low purr. “Did I say anything about forgetting about her?” When Khaidyn stayed silent, he continued, “Start living your life again; caring for yourself.” he took another drag from his pipe and watched as Raolik stood and pushed back from the table, his eyes glittering with anger and unshed tears.
“What if I don’t want to?” his voice trembled with emotion then evened out.
“That’s your choice,” The corners of the Hwarrowan’s lips twitched up into a hint of a smirk as he took another drag from his pipe, smoke spiraling out from his lips as he spoke. “just don’t let the pompous bastard drive you over the edge.”
The other male gave a curt nod and after throwing back the rest of his drink and pulling the hood of his cloak over his head, left the pub.
Usually after he left the pub, he retreated to his den, pulling the charm that had been molded from her ashes and clutching it in his already white-knuckled fists. He was lucky that he had been able to convince one of the members from another tribe to forge her ashes into a couple of charms so she would still be with him in a way. The charms were attached to a string that was tied around his neck, which allowed them to rest in the middle of his chest.
As he slinked back into the territory of his sleeping tribe, he dreaded the quietness of his den since it turned out to be one of the best and worst places for him to be. It was a place where he could let his thoughts run without interruption, but those thoughts were the very things that was the reason he went for nights on end without sleep. He was exhausted but the constant dull pain in the center of his chest kept his eyes wide open. The pain turned into a blurred whorl of memories of the time they spent together and the things that they had done...both in line with the law and against it.
He heard that when a person’s soulmate or equal died, the other person would also immediately die from grief. But unfortunately, in his case, that had not happened. Instead of dying, he felt his mate die, then continued to breathe.
As time went on, he found that he hated her even more than he hated himself. He hated her for leaving him in this cruel world filled with demons that were now free to haunt him.
