restricted, forced to watch from the outside while the woman I desperately wanted to protect was taken beyond my reach.
What kind of husband am I?
What sort of husband stands by and can't do a single thing to protect or help his own wife?
I felt so utterly, painfully helpless in that moment. And I hated it. I hated every single second of this suffocating feeling, and I swore to myself that they would pay for making me feel this way.
I kept standing helplessly outside the room, and the pack's sudden, aggressive lockdown was not helping matters at all.
Heavy iron boots slammed against the stone floors as guards endlessly patrolled the dimly lit corridors, moving with tense, military precision as though they were frantically searching for a hidden intruder.
Ignoring their hard glares, I kept pacing back and forth in front of the heavy wooden door, clutching my bruised ribs as I waited anxiously for the healer to come outside and for Maria to finally wake up.
