I met him when I was only eight years old. I remember the way his hair clung to his forehead and the sound his soaked sneakers made, as he walked me home that day. Most of all, I remember the way his eyes softened after he rescued me. 

After pulling me out of the water, he immediately bit his wrist. He bit it so hard, blood started to pool out of his mouth and onto the sand. Then, as if nothing happened, he pulled his backpack over his shoulder, gave me his other hand, and brought me back to my parents. 

I was too young to understand it back then, but that was the first time I met my destined mate.

*~*~*~

Last night, I woke up gasping for air. I couldn't remember the last time I had that dream, but it's almost always the same every time. It starts with a stray cat. Its fur, the color of Autumn leaves, and eyes filled with things that only cats who've lost their homes will ever know. 

My parents had gone out earlier that afternoon with a few of their old high school friends and left me at home, trusting that I would stay put. There had been a weather warning that day and they told me I wasn't allowed to go down to the beach, but I was young and wanted to make friends with the cat. Through the large glass windows, I could see it walking along a sandy path that would lead to the beach. 

It took me a couple of minutes to build up the courage to open my front door, but when I finally did, a strong gust of ocean air blew in my face and I squeezed my eyes shut, as my tiny body swayed from its strength. Yet, the weather warning wasn't enough to stop me from venturing outside. 

It wasn't long before I found the cat strolling by the shoreline. I wasted no time and quickly ran down the steps of the dune that separated all the houses from the beach. 

Even in my dreams, the cat was not nearly as nice as I had hoped. Its sharp claws sliced my palm open, when I got too close. I remembered the pain, but I wasn't sure if I cried or not. Either way, I was smart enough to know that I had to rinse my bleeding hand, so I walked to the edge of the ocean, feeling the foamy water brush against my ankles. 

It was at this point, where my dreams felt more like reality. Everything seemed to slow down. Lifting my hand out of the water, I slipped on a wet rock as I turned to leave. Then, a wave crashed into me. It wasn't big enough to pull me under, but it was strong enough to pull me into the current. My bleeding hand no longer felt like a big deal.

I cried for help as I scrambled against the current, but due to the impending storm, there wasn't anyone around to hear me. My tiny little heart was beating frantically in my chest. The water would recede just enough for my toes to touch the ocean floor, making me believe that I had a fighting chance to escape before another wave swallowed me up again. 

It didn't take long for my arms and legs to get tired refuse to keep moving. I remembered, while thrashing, my eyes locked onto the stray cat. At first, it didn't seem so far away. It had stopped walking when I started screaming. Its eyes latched onto mine and I cried believing it would be the last thing ever saw. Another wave washed over me, but I didn't have the strength to pull myself up. I closed my eyes as I let the ocean water fill my lungs.

This is where my dream usually ends. However, last night was different. 

Last I also dreamt I was rescued. 

I dreamt about him. 

And I knew that could only mean one thing.

He was coming back.

****

Hope you enjoyed this prologue. If you like what I've done so far, let me know by leaving a like or a comment!