"I’m sorry…I’m so sorry," he wept on the soft white pillow, dearly hugging it for his life, adamant about expressing his bona fide apology.
Where was once the so-called tough-hearted king? Not once did he imagine being so...weak and...helpless, brawling his feelings out for a mate, his precious, mate.
But cries weren't enough, nor did they help cover things.
He was feared, yes, yet now he's nothing but a sinful soul, a woeful king who cried behind closed doors. Regardless, even more ruthless with everyone's open eye.
He should have asked for an apology years ago. He should have stopped his foolishness and accepted her. He should have prevented this boundless forlornness that was cramming inside his heart.
He should have done so.
The blinding light pricked his eyes, now wide open. He
