Emotional torture

Arlo Caddel

Torture.

That was one word to describe the past five months of my life. Everyday, I woke up with a consciousness, and a gnawing feeling in my heart that something was missing.

My heart felt torn between two worlds. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep, I saw the beautiful doe eyes of my mate. I heard her voice in my head. My mind continued to replay our first night together, the night we had made love - even though drunk out of our minds - in her cute little hideout. I could still smell her shampoo, I could still feel her silky skin underneath my fingertips.

My body had always yearned for her, but it was worse now that she was gone. My life seemed to have lost its colour, it's vibrant nature. I was now a walking monochrome of grey and black, no white, because there was no form of brightness in my life.

She had been gone for five months, missing. And I had only known after her mate I had found in the woods on the night of the changing ceremony, met me to challenge me a