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  • When he saw the tears streaming on her eyes, the longings and distress, the sadness he could feel brimming, Tarik felt his heart being gripped. It churned his insides, and it was the very first time he had ever felt this way. It feels like a knife curving his flesh, it was painful, more than the injuries, the bite marks he had gotten from the war. It’s more than his scars, which left mark, a memoirs of triumph as well as the mourning he would grew accustomed with the others for the lives they lost.
  • After what happened inside the Palace, the Devonshire and the rumours spreading like a wildfire about him and his words he had expressed with the Queen, Tarik decided to return to where he had left her be. Under Helga’s protection, whom he is assured that she will be safe. The mate he’s been asking for, yet he couldn’t have. The bond he could have fight for, but it will cost their kingdom every single thing they built for years.
  • Is he ready to offer those in exchange of the fate he was destined for?
  • Tarik is still lost. He haven’t had any answered yet, and so he came back here to seek what he’s been looking for. With his mate, he felt at ease as if there’s no burden he should had been worried of—only to find her accusing stare, the defeated look ‘til she turned her back and runaway.
  • She runaway from him, scared, and hurt.
  • “Luna...” He felt a sudden pang that stake his chest.
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