@new-castle-queen It’s late. Jade doesn’t even need to glance at the clock. It’s pointless because time became irrelevant nearly a year ago. Sleep is rare, only fully overtaking when exhaustion threatens to drown her, choke her. If she were an honest woman, she’d say she nearly desired it because without him, she feels more lost than she’s capable of confessing. Can she live without him? Yes. She simply doesn’t want to, though. How was she supposed to breathe without her other half, her mate, her Sire? The kids were all sound asleep except Ophelia who was busy fidgeting with her stuffed monkey. “Go to sleep, kid,” she whispered in the softest tone, earning back a squealed coo. “Shh,” she murmured, picking up the infant, cradling and rocking her until she finally gives in to the sleep she’d been resisting. “You remind me of your daddy,” she whispers to the little girl. “You’re gonna be so much trouble when you’re older,” she half joked, though she was fairly sure it was true. Once she was certain the baby was out, she laid her down, quietly slipping out of the room.
Standing in the hall, she sighed to herself, heading downstairs. The last thing she wanted was to climb back into bed with him. He was the wrong man. He wasn’t Warren. Pajama pants that were too long dragged against the wood flooring with a light swish, arms wrapped around herself with the oversized top. She’d lost weight since Warren’s disappearance. Liz was concerned, she could see it in the woman’s eyes, but Jade - well, she was merely attempting to keep her head above water. This was the best she could do. Making her way to the window, she looked up at the night sky, tempted to be out in it in her wolf form. The thought sunk, though when her head dropped. Her heart stopped beating, she was sure of it. “W-Warren?” the word barely made a sound, eyes filled with tears. No, it couldn’t be him, could it? She didn’t move, at first, like she was afraid if she did, he’d vanish. But then she couldn’t stop herself. If he was there, she needed to touch him, to hug him, to breathe in his familiar scent. The hybrid nearly tore the front door off its hinges in her efforts to open it, bolting out and throwing herself against him. “It’s you,” she gasped. She didn’t expect her emotions to flood her like a tsunami, a choked sob in her throat, but she couldn’t fight it. She was just so very tired, and the sight of him overwhelmed every sense. “You’re here,” she tightened her hold on him as if that was proof he was real, she wasn’t hallucinating.
