Millicent
The bus smelled like stale coffee. I'd claimed the back row, curled against the window with my duffel bag clutched to my chest. Every bump in the road sent fresh waves of nausea through me - motion sickness mixing with morning sickness mixing with the constant, grinding agony of the severed bond.
Fourteen hours. That's how long this trip took. Fourteen hours of trying not to throw up, of other passengers giving me worried looks, of my wolf whimpering so quietly I could barely hear her anymore. She'd howled for the first few hours, calling for our mate, before finally going silent. The silence was worse than the howling.
I drifted in and out of fitful sleep, dreaming of dark eyes and gentle hands that turned cruel. Every time I woke, there was a moment where I forgot what had h
