His Call

Harlyn

Holding the phone to my ear, I felt a rush of warmth flood me as Wayne’s voice filled the line.

“Wayne,” I greeted him, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

“Harlyn, how are you doing, my Luna? I hope you’re not getting bullied.” I can hear the worry in his tone.

“No, I am not getting bullied. Things are well,” I assured him. The internal struggles I have threaten to betray my words. I can't have him worrying about me, not when he has his own pack to lead and protect.

“Are you sure? You sound defeated, my love,” he says.

“I promise. I think I am just getting worn out from the long day,” I admit. My heart aches at the thought of him worrying for me. Especially when he is so far away, and I can't reassure him except with words.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“Wayne, is everything okay? You are unusually quiet,” I ask, my concern mounting with each passing second. He's too quiet, and I don't like that.

“I miss you, Harlyn. I don’t know if I can stay