"I would know it in any world, any life, any form, anywhere in time and space. I would die for these lavender eyes to glitter with warmth - anytime, anywhere."
His words constrict around my heart like golden barbs. The beauty of them excruciating.
...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Breathing, for me, has been difficult for a while now. It probably would've felt easier - better - if I didn't remember the breezy times when it was actually so much easier. But I do.
I remember every moment of freedom, and that's my doom. I know that I wasn't born in a cage. I know that I have known the sky. I know that I could once breathe freely. I know that I could once make fear fear me.
So now, when fear coils its ugly tendrils around my neck, constricts my breath and threatens to kill it in my lungs, I am afraid I am too weak to fight back. I try, oh I do try. But, I can't.
I can't. I no longer can. Because here as I feel my first shift coming up, the only wolf in the pack to shift for the first time at seventeen - who shifts as late as sixteen? Poor me - there is no one here to hold me. No one to comfort me. No one to even warm up the air with their presence as I start feel my bones fracturing and re-aligning.
It's excruciating. The pain of the first shift is like no other. Once a wolf has shifted, the next shifts are quick and easy. But this - the first shift - is a terrifyingly exhilarating milestone.
A milestone for which I have none to stand by me. It's terrifying to an extent that I can feel my nerves tearing up and hysteria creeping in.
I miss Ashton's gentle touches. I miss Rauld's affectionate teasing.
I miss being someone's little lavender. I miss being someone's pixie.
I miss dad and mum.
And I miss Alpha and Luna Knight.
I don't clearly remember the details of all that happened that fateful night - that night of the ball. But I do remember how much it took from me. How much it robbed us of.
I remember the flames consuming the Alpha and Luna's immobile forms like they were their last meals ever.
But maybe I remember all that because that was the last time I had ever been called little one, lavender or pixie.
The nicknames faded into the background of much like the emotions behind them. Much like myself.
I miss-
The crack in my spine makes me scream in pain. I had let the memories distract me. Again. Like I keep doing all the time. I zone out and then I leap into an endless sea of those memories.
They surely are great comforters, though.
So I let it all wrap around me like a blanket. It's not really warm, but I will myself to imagine that it is.
The pain certainly doesn't move an inch away from me, but it makes breathing through this slightly easier.
My spine breaks a few more times over. It's raw pain, but I believe that I can make it through this. Because I have to. Because I cannot just stop hoping. I cannot give up on my family. My life. My love...
