Chapter 11 Two Caged Souls

• ARABELLE.
• The moon hung low in the sky, its sad, pale light spilling over the garden like a whisper of despair. It seemed as if the moon itself shared my sorrow, its glow dulled by a heaviness I knew too well. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shield against the cold that was settling into my bones-not from the chill of the evening air, but from the hollowness expanding inside my chest.
• The prisoner-the Lycan werewolf-haunted my thoughts. His pain had somehow seeped into my soul, entwining with my own. I felt his suffering like a bruise against my heart, a constant throb I could not escape. I needed to breathe, to clear my mind from the day's turmoil and the unsettling pull that tied me to his agony.