lawrence Blackbart
Sleeping, he returns to that same moment in time.
He saw figures, no wait, shadows like vague undefined blobs. They were approaching him, not making a sound. He slept on his side, with one eye open as per usual, so he woke at the first sign of danger, except for one problem ... he couldn’t move. He tried rolling over... nothing, stretching his legs ... nothing, opening his mouth ... nothing. His mind was racing, heart pounding. He could feel his mate next to him, still asleep. Her soft, warm breath steadily flowing over him, bringing him comfort. The shadows came closer, he tensed up, readied himself to attack, but he couldn’t. He was bound and gagged by invisible forces unfamiliar to him.
The shadows approached, but silently glided past. He gave a sigh of relief in his mind; however his panic doubled, tripled even when he felt his mate shifting behind him. Or was she being shifted? He cringed at the thought. He almost died when he saw her being carried away, under the same spell that he was in. His blood boiled, and his temper soared. He tried with all his might to break the spell, but he was no match. He could do nothing but watch as she was carried away. A silent cry escaped him.
He shot straight up, covered in sweat, pumped full of adrenaline, looking left and right. A single word escaped his mouth “Essith”. He sighed as he came to the realisation of his loss. A tear rolled off his face, splashing on the ground by his feet. He missed her. He missed her warmth, her sent, her touch, big, bright, beautiful smile, but most of all, her love. The nightmare of his wife’s capture still haunted him, even after the many, many years since the event. Why him? He demanded. Why him?
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