Nolan
The pain is a living thing.
It has claws and teeth and it is tearing my insides apart. One moment I was whole, an Alpha at the peak of his power. The next, a chasm opened in my soul.
A howl builds in my chest, a primal sound of agony that wants to shatter the very stones of this den. I choke it back. I am Alpha. I do not show weakness. But this… this is not weakness. It is annihilation.
The world is gray. The vibrant scents of the den, the packed earth, the furs, the lingering smell of her… wild herbs and clean rain… it is all muted, as if I am experiencing it through a thick wall of glass.
Where our bond used to be is a gaping, sucking void. My wolf, my other half, paces the cage of my mind, a frantic, raging beast. He screams for her. He screams for his mate. He claws at the emptiness, finding nothing but phantom agony.
“Alpha.”
The voice cuts through the haze. Marcus. My Beta. He stands in the entrance to my chambers, his face a mask of grim concern. The entire pack link is a thrumming wire of fear and confusion, all of it emanating from me. I can feel their terror as a distant echo. It feeds my rage.
“Get out,” I snarl. The words feel like gravel in my throat.
He doesn’t move. A foolish, brave man. “Nolan, you need to rein it in. The pack… they are on the verge of panic. The pups are hiding. The warriors can’t focus.”
“Let them panic.” I rise from the furs where I collapsed. Every movement sends a fresh wave of torment through the void. “Their Luna betrayed them. She betrayed me.”
Marcus takes a cautious step into the room. “She severed the bond. I did not think it was possible.” His voice is low, laced with a disbelief that infuriates me.
“She did the impossible,” I spit, pacing the chamber like a caged animal. “She took a blade to our souls because I told her not to waste her time on a weak pup.”
“Is that all it was?” he asks quietly.
The question stops me cold. I turn on him, letting my Alpha power lash out, a wave of invisible force that should bring him to his knees. He staggers but holds his ground.
“What are you implying, Marcus?”
“I am implying nothing.” His gaze is steady, loyal, but honest. It has always been his greatest strength and his most infuriating quality. “I am asking. You forbade her from healing. You praised Lyra in front of her. You kept her on a leash so tight she could not breathe. For three years.”
“I was protecting her!” The roar comes from my gut, from the wolf. “Her sentimentality was a danger. It made her a target. It made us look weak. I was forging her into a proper Luna.”
“Or you were breaking her into a shape you found convenient.”
I am across the room in a blur of motion, my hand gripping the front of his tunic. I slam him against the stone wall. Dust rains down from the ceiling. “You forget your place.”
He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even try to push me away. He just meets my eyes. “No. I know my place. It is to advise my Alpha, even when he is wrong. You drove her to this. This was not a betrayal. This was an escape.”
The word is a poison dart. Escape. It implies a prison. It implies a jailer. It implies this is my fault.
The void inside me pulses, a hot, searing agony. It cannot be my fault. The alternative is too devastating to contemplate.
“She is my mate,” I say, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Mine. There is no escape.”
I release him, shoving him back. He stumbles but regains his footing.
“What are you going to do?” he asks, his voice strained.
“I am going to find her.” The decision solidifies the rage into a hard, cold purpose. It is a relief, this feeling. It is better than the formless pain. “I will assemble the trackers.”
“And then what?” Marcus presses. “Drag her back? She chose to sever the most sacred thing in our world rather than stay with you, Nolan. What life do you think you can force on her now?”
“The life she was promised. The life she owes me.”
“She owes you nothing,” he says, his voice raw with a desperation I have never heard from him. “Let her go. Let her have peace. For the good of the pack, let this wound heal.”
“Heal?” I laugh, a harsh, broken sound. “There is no healing this. There is only justice.”
“Justice or possession?”
Before I can answer, another voice cuts in, smooth and sharp as honed steel.
“He is your Alpha, Marcus. That is enough.”
Lyra stands there, framed in the doorway. She looks from me to Marcus, her eyes missing nothing. She is dressed for a hunt, her black leathers gleaming in the low light. She exudes strength and absolute loyalty. A perfect warrior.
She walks into the room, her presence a stark contrast to the quiet compassion of Lorelai. Lyra is a storm. Lorelai was the calm center I failed to appreciate.
“The trackers are assembled, Alpha,” Lyra says, her gaze fixed on me. She dismisses Marcus as if he were a piece of furniture. “They await your command. Her trail is fresh. She is weakened from the ritual. She could not have gotten far.”
Her words are a balm. Practical. Efficient. They validate my anger, giving it direction.
“You see, Marcus?” I say, not looking at him. My eyes are locked with Lyra’s. “Loyalty. It is a simple concept.”
Marcus lets out a heavy sigh, the sound of a man who knows he has lost. “As you command, Alpha.” He bows his head stiffly and leaves the chamber. The air feels cleaner with his doubt gone.
Lyra steps closer. She does not reach for me, but her proximity is a comfort. A heat in the cold emptiness of the room.
“He is soft,” she says. “Like she was. He does not understand what it takes to lead a pack like the Shadowmoon.”
“He is my Beta,” I say, the words automatic, a defense I no longer feel.
“And I am your warrior,” she counters smoothly. “I serve your strength, not your weakness.” She tilts her head, her silver eyes searching my face. “She was never worthy of you. Her heart was too small for the position you gave her. She could not bear the weight of being your Luna.”
Every word she speaks feels like the truth. It settles over the raw wound of my pride, a soothing lie. Lorelai was weak. She could not handle the pressure. She broke. She ran. This was her failing, not mine.
“She healed the pup,” I murmur, the memory a flicker of confusion. “After it was done. After she… broke it. Her magic was… bright.”
“A final act of defiance,” Lyra says, her voice laced with contempt. “Showing you what she valued more than her Alpha. More than her mate. A broken animal over her sacred vows. It proves what I have always said. Her soft heart was a rot in the foundation of this pack.”
She is right. Of course she is right.
The gentle light in Lorelai’s palms. The way she would talk to the plants in her garden. The songs she would hum while mending clothes. I saw them all as trivialities. Distractions. Now, I see them as betrayals. Pieces of a life she kept separate from me. A world where I was not the center.
“I want her found,” I say, the purpose hardening my voice to granite.
“She will be,” Lyra promises. “And when she is brought before you?”
I look at the void in my soul, the place she carved out and left to bleed. What would justice be for a crime this monumental?
“She will kneel,” I say, the words tasting of ash and iron. “And she will regret the day she mistook my protection for a cage.”
Lyra smiles. It is a sharp, predatory thing, full of teeth. It is a mirror of the ugliness growing in my own heart.
“I will lead the search myself, Alpha.” She places a fist over her heart. “I will not fail you.”
I nod, a single, sharp gesture. “Go.”
She turns and strides from the room, her boots echoing on the stone. The sound of purpose. The sound of a weapon being unsheathed.
I am alone again with the pain. But it is different now. It is not just grief. It is fury. It is a promise.
Lorelai thinks she is free. She thinks she has escaped.
I will teach her that a bond, even one she shatters, leaves a chain. And I still hold my end.
