He was a mosaic, composed of broken pieces.
She was an unfinished art project.
********
The moon goddess ends the lives of Lycans she sees as a threat to the Lycan community. Instead of being ripped apart by her hounds, she gives a warrior the cha...
The goddess knows best, Especially when you don't ~Mel B.
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War couldn't sleep. It had been two hours. Two hours since he and his mate laid down in bed together to sleep. She wasn't asleep. She had been blinking, tossing and turning for the past 120 minutes.
He could smell her fear, smell the unsettling scent of hers. He wish he knew what to do or say...but he didn't. Then she began to slip out of the bed.
At first he thought maybe she would go to the bathroom, but through his keen hearing he knew her feet were going to the left...where the door was.
Opening his bedroom door quietly, but not quiet enough, she slipped out of the room, leaving a pained War. The anger and betrayal was swift, as if someone jabbed a knife into his sternum. It took his breath away...
He could hear her gentle foot patters down the steps, a specific step creaking loudly before she rushed down the steps.
War cursed under his breath, quickly slipping out of bed and rushing out of his room. Pomelia was small, she couldn't have gotten that far... Once he got down the steps, he could still smell her scent, strong actually. Throwing open the front door with a calloused heart, he was ready to shift and find his run away mate...
"Goddess please help me...I don't really know what to do."
There his mate was, sitting on the steps, shivering and staring up at the full moon. "I...I thought I was on the right track. I chose to become a novice, I wanted to be a priestess and serve you...but now I'm here a-and I don't know what to do."
War quietly listened to his mate, the anger that festered up in him slowly fizzing out. "What if he's not nice to me...I don't know what to do or say. Everyone's so intimidating here...I just need some type of sign that everything will be okay? Maybe..." She trailed off, and gasped loudly, frozen in place.
"Pomelia?"
He couldn't listen to her talk to the moon...it was odd in his eyes. He knew the goddess was real but the chances of her listening to Pomelia were slim in his eyes. A gentle breeze had her nervous scent wafting to his nose, breathing in her vanilla bean scent.
"War! I'm so sorry, I-I just wanted fresh air," she gulped, quickly rising to her feet and giving him a regretful look. She wrung her hands together tightly, as his eyes met her glassy ones.
For some reason he felt bad and he didn't even do anything wrong. "It's okay," he told her as another hard shiver wracked her body. He needed to get her inside. Her body was covered but the material was thin...he didn't want her to catch a cold. "Let's go inside."
He held his hand out for her, hoping she would grab it. He needed to touch some part of her body. Just to make sure that she was still real and not apart of some crazy prolonged dream.
