Page 42 of Primal

Bleary, dry eyes that still ache with every torturously slow blink drag to the figure that sits next to me on my bed. It takes a moment for my vision to focus and when it does, I feel silly that in my muddled mind, I hadn’t immediately known who the steady presence with the cloth had been. There was only ever one possibility after all.

Seren.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I cling to consciousness for more than a few fleeting, agonizing seconds. I don’t know how long this reprieve will last, so while I can still pull air into my lungs without it feeling like fire and shift my body without it being akin to rolling over broken glass, I take in my best friend. The one remaining constant in my life.

The sight of her alone tells me I’ve been trapped in this state far longer than a few hours. The dark circles beneath her powder blue eyes are nearly purple, and the light that usually fills them is dull and weary. Her pale blonde hair, something she takes pride in keeping perfect, is greasy and tousled, half of it is twisted into a lazy knot atop her head. The stretched collar of her gray sweatshirt hangs loose over one shoulder, exposing the delicate edge of her collarbone. Her skin, which usually has a nice, healthy pink flush to it, is lacking all signs of color.

If I’m being honest, she looked more put together after giving birth to Ivey.Poor girl.

My throat is raw, painfully dry, and a voice whispers a heartbreaking truth—I must have been screaming.Though I don’t remember making a sound.

Swallowing against the sensation of razor blades, I force the words out. “You look like shit, Ser.”

She blinks at me, silent. Like she isn’t sure if she actually heard me or if the exhaustion is playing tricks on her. I watch as the realization settles, as the gears turn, slow and sluggish, before she finally chokes out a watery snort. “Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, babe, but you don’t look much better.”

I don’t have the strength to laugh, so I hum instead, hoping she understands the intention. My body already feels impossibly heavy again, my brief moment of clarity slipping.I won’t be awake much longer.

“Hurts…” I grit out, my voice barely more than a breath.

The cool cloth returns, gently gliding over my skin, soothing where it can. Seren’s free hand runs down the side of my head, smoothing strands of my hair in a slow, comforting motion. I don’t need a mirror to know I’m a mess. Between the sweating and the thrashing, my hair must be a tangled disaster. Just the thought of untangling it later exhausts me.

The idea of showering, of scrubbing this nightmare from my skin, should be a relief. Instead,a darker thought slithers in, whispering in the back of my mind.

What’s the point?

What’s the point of doing something so mundane, so ordinary as bathing, when nothing about me feels whole anymore? The pain has started to slowly loosen its hold on me, but the aching, hollow void where Rennick’s presence should be has taken its place. The bond that tied us together is gone, leaving behind nothing but a raw, cavernous absence. In my clouded, sluggish mind, it’s impossible to care aboutanythingoutside of this.

Seren’s thumb catches a hot tear as it falls down the side of my face. “I know,” she whispers. “I know it does.’

“Why does it have to hurt?” I choke on my words, half of them coming out like broken and weak sobs.

Seren exhales, a sound that in another moment might have passed as a laugh. Though, there’s not a trace of genuine humor in it now. “There are a lot of theories, and I think there’s a little bit of truth in all of them.” I can’t bring myself to say it aloud, but the way she speaks softly is something I’m endlessly grateful for right now. “I was always told it’s the Goddess’s way of punishing those who defy her divine plan, a price for breaking the bond shehandcraftedfor you. Some say rejecting a fated mate is the ultimate insult, like spitting in the Goddess’s face. You know I don’t put as much faith in the Goddess as you do, but when my bond was severed, I had felt more than inclined to beg for her mercy.”

It's not very often that Seren Pryce willingly talks about her broken bond or the man she left behind before she found her way to us.

My lip trembles as fragmented memories surface—the echoes of my own unanswered pleas, my desperate begging to the Goddess—clawing their way out of the mess of my fractured thoughts. More tears fall and Seren tries her best to catch them all, but it’s a losing battle for her. “What’s your theory? Why doyouthink it hurts so bad?”

Seren’s pale, chapped lips pull into a sad smile as she looks down at me. “A fated mate bond isn’t just a connection, Noa. It’swoven into who we are—stitched into the very fabric of our souls. You don’t choose it, and as we’ve learned, sometimes you don’t evenwantit. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a part of you. And when it’s severed, your body doesn’t know how to function without it.” She clears her throat, like she’s trying to steady herself, to push back whatever emotions are creeping in. “It hurts because avitalpiece of you was justripped away—like tearing out a part of your heart and expecting the rest to keep beating. We’re not meant to survive without it…and yet, somehow, we have to.”

“I didn’t want this,” I choke out. “I didn’t choose this. I wasn’t the one who spit in the Goddess’s face, but I’m the one who’s left…suffering.” If Rennick had felt even a fraction of the agony that tore through me like a tidal wave made of fire and blades, he would have fallen to his knees in that clearing just as I had. But he didn’t. He remained standing. Through the fog of my memory, I see the horror carved into his guilt-ridden face, the way he stared down at me. Like a murderer standing above his victim, waiting for them to bleed out. “It’s not fair. None of this is fucking fair.”

In my pain-riddled, disoriented mind, I can’t make sense of it. How Rennick did this to me, tore me apart, left me bare and desolate. And yet, he got to walk away.On his own two feet. Meanwhile, my body had crumpled beneath the torment, unable to withstand the agony. Ihadto be carried, unconscious, out of thatfuckingclearing.

Abandoning her cloth, Seren’s two hands cup either side of my clammy face. Her thumbs still tirelessly wiping away each tear that falls against my will. “I know, babe,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’m so fucking sorry.” She leans in, forehead resting against mine, grounding me. “I know saying it doesn’t fix anything, doesn’t take the pain away, but I need you to hear it anyway.I’m sorry, Noa.”

“How did you make it through that?” I ask. “How did you keep going after he rejected you?”

I know his name, but I don’t dare speak it aloud. She had let it slip during our huckleberry moonshine night. To this day, it’s still the one and only time Seren’s uttered his name. And I still don’t think she knows she did it.

My best friend pauses, pushing away the pieces of my bangs that stick to my forehead. The way her eyes flash with uncertainty catches my attention despite the darkness starting to creep back into the corners of my vision. “My situation was…different. It wasn’t just him rejecting me, I rejected him, too. We both severed our sides of the bond.” A shadow passes over her face. “Don’t get me wrong, it still hurt. If anyone understands even a fraction of what you’re feeling right now, it’s me, and I wish more than anything that you could have been spared from this.” Her thumbs still for just a second before continuing their slow back-and-forth over my skin. “It’s going to be hell for a while. You’re not going to feel like yourself. You’re going to have to fight for it, Noa.” Her grip tightens, not hard, butinsistent.“That empty ache weighing down on your soul? I know it.” Her voice trembles, but her conviction doesn’t waver. “But I swear to you, on everything I have and hold dear,it gets better.The pain will fade. It won’t disappear, but it will fade. It will always be there, just beneath your skin. Some days, you won’t notice it. Other days, it’ll demand that you remember. But you’ll adjust. You’ll learn to live with it just as I have. And until that happens, you have to fight like hell, because you can’t let it win, Noa.”

The inky blackness I’ve been battling since I first cracked my burning eyes open is creeping back in, dragging me under. My limbs feel like dead weight, my ears buzz with a dull, relentless hum, and when I finally manage to speak, my words come out slow, thick, almost slurred.

“I don’t know how to fight this.”

I certainly don’t knowhowto win this battle.

And deep down, I can’t be sure that I really want to.

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