He was a mosaic, composed of broken pieces.
She was an unfinished art project.
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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...
Never argue with someone who believes their own lies.
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War was exhausted.
His work shirt was washed down in sweat, his pants clung to his frame. He knew he smelled like outside and sweat and he couldn't help it. He had no extra money. He had no car. He had to walk to and fro work. His car was Khan's property and since he wasn't working with Khan anymore he had it taken away.
War had no money for a car because sixty percent of his paychecks went to Khan. Khan loathed him for not wanting to be his contract killer anymore. Pomelia didn't talk to him. She said good morning and would always make him breakfast but since he offered her meat and their wolves almost mated in the woods two weeks ago, she hadn't said much.
She was always alone, reading religious texts, or spending time with the kid. If she wasn't doing any of those things he could find her in the kitchen. War knew she watched him, every time he walked into the room her eyes lit up before dulling back down. A pained expression would pass over her features and she would curve inward, as if trying to protect her heart from him. It hurt. It did. War wasn't intentional in his lying, it just happened.
They were both happy and he was finally catching a break in life and he just wanted to enjoy his mate. He did and now he didn't even know her anymore. War wanted to hold her, to kiss her again. He was starving for contact from her and he drowned himself in his new job so that he wouldn't be a burden to her.
If he hadn't lucked out with this human construction job, he would have been following her around like a lost puppy. He would've been begging her to take him back. Instead he was so exhausted everyday he ate dinner late that she saved him, he took a shower in his own room and then would check in on her as she slept.
He always stayed a little longer than he was supposed to, breathing in her scent. She would always move around a bit, no doubt her mind unconsciously registering his scent.
War heaved out a heavy sigh as the backpack on his back seemed to have weighed eighty tons. His muscles were achey and stuff, and the prospect of going home thrilled and saddened him. Pomelia didn't believe him when he said he had gotten a new job and who could've blamed her for acting that way? Half of their relationship was a lie.
Except for him loving her. That was always the truth. He loved her so much and would never stop even if she didn't love him at all and never would again.
As he walked down the dark human road, he loathed every single dumb human in a car. They probably thought he was homeless. He had cement all over his pants and saw dust everywhere. He looked terrible.
While walking, he couldn't help but notice a horn blaring behind him. Blaring loud. He kept walking, figuring it was probably two cars getting into it, but as the horn became louder he turned around, peering into the dark.
