Bound By Magic And Moonlight

Point

y my headlights as I push the truck faster. The hum of the engine fills the

wanted me to reject her. No hesitation, no second thoughts. Like our bond, the

unsettled by the rejection, by the emptiness it left behind. The bond is severed now, but that

t was a burden, something she wanted no part

the thoughts away. I can't afford to dwell on this. Hazel made

y does it f

drown out the weight pressing down on me. The deep bass thrums thr

lackwater. Two days of empty r

r on the gas. Maybe if I drive fast enough, I

he wheel for hours. But just ahead, the glow of a town cuts throu

n sign of a bar across the lot. Perfect. Just what I need. A stiff drink t

in area. The warm glow inside contrasts with the cold night ai

, sir. How ca

r small talk. "I need a ro

eyboard. The rhythmic tapping fills the sile

r my card. She swipes it, hands me my key, an

cknowledging her thanks as I pocket the ke

ologne. A low hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the space, b

liquid midnight. But it's not just her presence that pulls me in, it's som

of it, my feet are moving. I

is stunning, sharp cheekbones, full lips, an air of confidence that

Unnatural.

a warning, but I ignore it. Right now, I don't want t

er glass in silent acknowledgment, h

sure. The words don't matter,

nvite her back to my ro

to question why t

*

stir awake, my body heavy with exhaustion, my head clouded with the remnants of last n

, empty. No trace of the woman from last night. No lingering sc

of my mind. It's all hazy, blurred conversations, the taste of al

nd that?

he bed. My body feels stiff, my mind s

r my bag, but it's nowhere in sight. T

trast to the stale warmth of the hotel room. My truck sits exactly where I left it, a thin layer of dew clingi

shoulders, washing away the remnants of last night. But even as I stand beneath the cascade, letting the steam fill th

e corners of my mind. Her voice, the way she looked at me wh

I sti

, and dry off quickly. I dress, slipping in

turn box outside the check in office without a

ignition, the engine rumbling to life. The

o Blac

to re

I can't shake keep swirling in my head. I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to focus on anything but the naggin

fills. Stepping out, I head inside the convenience store, the dull hum of the fluorescent lights overhead mingling with the low murmur o

truck, the seat feeling like a second skin as I settle in. The bag of food sits in the passenger seat, but I don't

traces of daylight slipping beneath the horizon, leaving the world in deep purples and blues. The sun se

e end of the drive, the end of the search

ds grows closer, I can't shake the feeling th

familiar dirt road guiding me back to my home, my family, my pack. The trees lining th

ath, pulling up t

r at least,