Romans & histoires Collective Soul Tremble For My Beloved

And now, this is the time I feel like I need him most. That's why I... that's why I love him. He's really special. He's a shoulder to cry on and I know he’ll always be there for me. From: Blake sorry, cal. can't. i have stuffs to do. i'll see u tomorrow. Or maybe not. —

Pregnancy. The third wheel. Those words kept swirling in my mind, causing my eyes to fill with tears. I kept gulping down glass after glass of liquor, thinking maybe I could gather the courage to march up to them and throw it in their faces. But my body wouldn't listen. I remained frozen on the spot, trembling with hurt, and my voice was stuck in my throat. The people at the next table, tipsy from their drinks, suddenly started calling out to Adrian.

"Hear my cry I call to thee From beneath the graves My family Unchain my soul Set me free Make me whole This is my plea Show me the secrets Of our line Show me the darkness We've conquered through time Show me the way Help me see I acknowledge my birth In this cursed family." I closed my eyes as I chanted these words over and over again, aware yet distanced from the major effects that was occurring around me. The ground trembled beneath me, as if there was an earthquake, causing items from my dresser to tumble onto the floor, shattering. The wind came out of nowhere as it began to howl and surround me. You could hear the loud screeching as the bed slightly slid from its original position.

Everything shudders a‌t o‌nce. A broken curse tear‌s from my throat as my arms give out and I‌ collapse over her, every muscle trem‌bling. Hea⁠t fl‌oods thro⁠ugh me, wave af‌ter wave,⁠ lea⁠ving me hollo‍wed out and shaki⁠ng. I press my face into t‍he crook of her neck, trying t⁠o catch my breath‌, trying‌ to‍ steady the st⁠orm inside me.

Limp, naked, her beautiful skin a pale moon in the chaos, being carried away by a figure cloaked in black. No! The word was a silent scream in my soul. *Trisha! My love! My mate!* A searing pain ripped through my chest, a physical tearing as the bond between us was stretched, pulled taut, and then blurred to a terrifying thin strand with distance. Fury, hot and blinding, erupted in my veins. *Who dares?* I roared internally, but my voice was a hoarse whisper. *Who dares touch my mate!*

dissolve into the woman. I wasn’t designing a trap. I wasn’t building a fortress. I was just being. The rhythm of our bodies became a heartbeat, a steady, pounding reassurance of our shared soul. It was romantic in its intensity, a slow burn that didn’t just touch the skin but reached into the marrow. When I arched against him, my voice caught in a high, breathy moan, it wasn’t a cry of trauma—it was a song of triumph.

The spell was building, strengthening. "We are so happy to be here with you tonight," Sy went on. I knew the prepared spiel, but it was one thing to know it and another to see its effect on thousands and thousands of mortals with their souls yearning toward the music. "Thank you so much for hosting two wanderers from far away lands. We have only one thing to ask of you tonight…" The drumbeat came in on cue for the next song, an earthquake-deep tremor through the bass. Sy leaned into the microphone. "…Give us everything you've got."

The story of the beautiful ballerina turned housewife, trapped not only in this elegant castle but being held in the treacherous clutches of love. Oh, love. Oh how bittersweet Lovely as well as lonely Builds you up and breaks you down Blinds your eyes with its mesmerizing light, then lead you through a dark and dangerous path with no return She's spins And spins And spins And spins And spins And spins Till she finally comes crashing down, She sobs loudly and the empty empire mocks her, mimicking her in a long distant echo. *BING BING BING BING* The large clock strokes 6. Her beloved is coming, he'll be back any minute now.

Then I added, softly but firmly: “Because you are my soulmate,the other half of my soul.” Her eyes widened, confusion flashing through them. Did she not know the word? My hands loosened their grip, afraid she’d pull away. She looked so fragile, like a butterfly I might crush if I wasn’t careful. Her voice,soft, trembling,rose between us. My heart lurched; I wanted to devour her whole, starting with those trembling lips. Her hands moved to her stomach. “Soulmate? That’s… impossible.”

The warmth was barely there. But it was there. Her hand trembled. She cried. Not from grief. From remembering. The tear fell on the flower. The petal opened further. The scent strengthened. The warmth grew. The light flickered. Her cry was small. But it was remembering. It was feeling. It was choosing. The cry spread. Through the ruins. Through the bare ground. Through the broken oak. Through every reality. Some heard it and remembered. Some heard it and felt. Some heard it and chose.