Her Mate
In pure agony she weeped, devastated by the betrayal of our mate, our supposedly other half.
Hands trembling, tears dripping from my cheeks, I stopped in front of the door. The smell of cherries, honey, and jasmine reached my nose. The scent of my mate, the scent that used to calm me, the scent that's supposed to keep my head, was now mixed with the scent of the woman who never failed to ruin every good thing to happen to me.
I can hear the bed inside creaking. Groans and moans of my mate, and groans and moans of the girl he knew I've always loathed.
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