Taken at barely a day old! Why would anyone do that? The thought had plagued me to no end and if I did not stop, a terrible headache would be my sure reward. Except, no matter the possible consequences, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. The need to know the reason such had befallen me had gnawed at me ever since my mate had narrated the ordeal. Not knowing felt like a void in my soul that insisted to be filled. And the longer that did not happen, the deeper that desire to spill the culprit’s entrails dug it’s claws into my flesh.
I had barely suckled from my mother’s breast! They couldn’t even let me lay in her bossom even for a day. To relish her warmth before I was snatched away.
Then there was my magical tattoo which I now understood was no tattoo at all or family mark, but a birthmar
