Wincing from the pain, I try to stomach it down as I force my body to work. But every part of it screams at me, feeling like it would break apart under the pressure.
I let out a whimper before crumbling to the ground.
"Luna!" My maid screams just before reaching out for me so I fall into her arms, the fall broken by a small margin.
I pant heavily as I try to push the pain aside. I need to do this. I haven't made much progress, I need to keep going.
"Luna, you can't keep this up. It could be dangerous." The maid tells me, Iris — as I've come to know her.
She's young and frail, no older than sixteen. I say this as though I'm some sort of ancient she-wolf. Most times I forget I'm still eighteen, and I hadn't been married to Darius for the century and a half like it felt.
I haven't been with him more than three months, like it felt.
So much had happened in such a small span of time that I feel my senses aged up more than it's supposed to be. I feel exhausted.
