Day One:

Gone. Missing. His insides burned with anger, his eyes flickered. Gone? How could she be missing, she was home? They had guards, she was safe. He was only gone three days. Missing. No, it couldn't be. His father placed a hand on his shoulder, only to be thrown from his person. The Moon Prince let out a roar that made the walls tremble in fear, the glass of the windows shook under the strain. Had this been why he could not feel her? Suddenly her warmth coursing through his veins was gone. He had assumed she was practicing some of her Miko magic. His mate, gone. The Prince tore from the room, running to the hall he had claimed as his own. He ripped their bedroom doors open allowing her scent to flood his nose. Gone. The scent was stale, days old. Her soothing lavender scent was gone.

"KAGOME!" he bellowed out, once more causing the house to hear his anguish. Claws raked against the stone wall, deep etches left as proof of his undying anger. Poison burned at his throat, his heart hammered through his ears.

"Brother," a voiced called out, forcing the tall figure to turn, whipping his long hair around.

"Inuyasha," the elder male growled out. His eyes demonically red, narrowed at the younger male.

"Sesshomaru, I know you are angry, but-," Inuyasha was cut off by a snap of his brother's jaw.

"Anger does not describe what I am feeling pup. You allowed her to go missing. I trusted you!" Sesshomaru roared, his fingers cracking as he balled them.

Inuyasha was silent, he knew better than to press his brother, even their father sported scars from battles with Sesshomaru. Inuyasha watched as the heir to the Moon Palace paced the marble floor. Inuyasha envied Sesshomaru, they both grew up with the best in life, there was no denying that. But Sesshomaru had obtained the heart of a female that any man would die for. The Moon Princess was human, her skin tinted with the golden hue of the sun.

Her long black hair was worn down and free, unlike many of the women in court. Sesshomaru's heart ached as he paced back towards the window. She loved sitting him down on the bench to brush his hair. He would tell her about the politics of the day as she slid the comb through his hair. Another roar escaped from his chest, telling whoever took her that they would die.