Beck's POV
The gentle drizzle that started this morning gradually turned into a downpour that made the day soon turn into night, so it was as if dawn never appeared. It’s been perfect for my mood.
Depriving myself of Artemis is almost as suffocating as giving up a drug to which you are highly addicted, but that is not the exact concept.
Having her away is like being without a part of myself; of my senses, as if I’m partially blind, which makes me sullen and fills me with bitterness as I lock myself in my room to meditate.
Now night has fallen, and I find myself staring at the ceiling of the room while thinking of her. The nexus between us lets me know that she is fine, but little else, which is irritating. It wouldn't be the same if I could hold her in my arms and make her see that her place is with me, and not in the middle of this tension between packs.
"May I come in?"
The voice at the bedroom door makes me turn and I see Wendy as she approaches with a tray full of food.
