Page 62

Whenever he lays down to sleep, his nights are hunted by these. Even his days are haunted.

Footsteps silent, he walked out of the room he slept in. It is only but one, out of the twenty-four bedrooms in his tower. Ismena hasn't woken up from unconsciousness, so he had left his bedroom for her choosing to sleep in another bedroom.

With each step he took out of the hallway, and down the stairs, he felt the tiredness that came from blood loss, and his unhealed bruises, but he ignored them too. He stopped at the second floor, striding in soundless steps through the corridor, with one destination in mind.

Minutes later, he stood inside Nalaila's dungeon room. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and just watched her. She is still sleeping. Here is where he always comes after every bad nightmare.

The steady rise and fall of the wolf's body was like a soothing balm to his troubled heart. At least, she is still alive.

His baby sister is alive. That is all that matters.

It doesn't matter that she hasn't taken mortal form in the past eighteen years of her life.

It doesn't matter that she is feral.

It doesn't matter that he is losing her more as days go by.

What matters is that she is still breathing.

He lost track of time, watching the vulnerable little wolf that whimpers and growls pitifully, even in sleep.

Finally, he allowed himself to walk out of the dungeon room; his heart was too heavy, and his mind was too dark.

His next destination was his bedroom. He was surprised to find the room empty, but the scent of her was still fresh in the room. So, he followed it.

Ismena was lost in the stars.

The cool breeze of the night—or is it early morning?—caressed her body so much, she was almost cold. So, she rubbed her bare arms rhythmically, while staring dazedly at the stars in the sky.

She knows the exact moment she's no longer alone because heat flooded her from behind warming its way to her throbbing heart and her lower belly. Only one man can make her feel like this.

"I hope I didn't wake you. I didn't mean to." She whispered, without turning back.

Silence met her words. But only for a few seconds. Then, "No. I woke up long before you did."

"Thank you for taking care of me...again. I truly do not mean to be a burden. Sorry for retching on you...." She apologized sincerely. "I have been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember, I'm not usually so accident-prone or such a trouble magnet either." A smile crossed her lips, her eyes glued to the dark sky, "I guess a lot comes from being badly ill. Not just dying."

Now that she is stargazing, he should be in his bedroom behind his office chair trying to get some work done. But instead, he found himselftaking steps closer to her to stand beside her on the balcony. Although, he couldn't produce a word.

Ismena doesn't mind, "You know, pre-dying, I was always very busy with work. I had a jerk for a boss, you see. And I didn't have much of a personal life, because I was too ingrained in work. If I had known that one day, I'll be facing death so soon I would have tried to do more with my life."

He didn't say a word, but his presence was enough for her to let out her thoughts, and feelings.

"I would have gone back home more times than I did. Amelia… my poor mother, Valentina my little sister, and my father Alfred, I would have tried to see them more...spend more time with them, you see." She swallowed tightly, "My poor mother will have a heart attack if she finds out that I'm dying again, after escaping death before when I was eight."

He crossed his arms, and looked up to the sky to try and see the night through her eyes. Because of the nightmare, his other halves were agitated, raging, and feeling unrest. But now, the wolf stretched out languidly listening to the sound of her voice. The mountain lion emitted furious growls... bloodthirsty...predatory.

"According to my mother, something bad happened to me when I was eight. I can still remember being in and out of the hospital...the pains of every treatment I had to undergo...it was awful." She shivered with the memory.

"What happened to you?" He asked at last.

"I have no idea." She spared him a glance, "I lost the memory. At first, I was hoping I will remember what happened to me...why I was in the hospital for weeks? But my mother was too relieved that I lost the memory. So, I gave up on it too. It must be pretty awful if my mother was grateful I don't remember, right?"

"I guess so." Silence, "Sometimes, memory loss is a savior." He looked away, "It will be a good thing if I had something like that." Maybe if he did, he will be able to stop hearing Nalaila's pain-filled screams every single time he laid down on the bed to sleep.

"Why? Are there some awful things you will like to forget about completely?" She asked softly.

He thought about it for a while, "No. They made me who I am today. It will be unfair to my people...to Nalaila...if I ever did." He replied at last.