Chapter 5
**Kael's POV**
She was gone.
The words didn't make sense. I read the Beta's report three times, standing in my office at 2 AM, and still—they didn't make sense.
*Nora left. Crossed the border. No trace.*
I called her phone. Dead. Called again. Dead. Threw the phone against the wall. It shattered into pieces that scattered across the floor like my thoughts.
"Find her." My voice came out wrong—shredded, desperate. My Beta flinched.
"Alpha, she signed the withdrawal papers. Legally, she's—"
"I said FIND HER."
He left. I was alone.
I sank into my chair—the same chair I'd sat in when she placed her resignation on my desk. I could still smell her. Lavender and rain. The scent was already fading from the room, from the house, from everything.
*It wasn't like that.* That's what I'd told her. But what was it like, then?
The contract. My father had arranged it with her dying mother—a business deal wrapped in mercy. *Take her. Protect her. Keep her until Serena wakes.* I was nineteen. Serena had just fallen into the coma—cursed by a rival pack's witch. I was grieving, furious, broken. And then this girl appeared—quiet, gentle, with those soft brown eyes that looked at me like I was her whole world.
I told myself I'd keep it clinical. Keep my distance.
Three years. Three years of her warmth beside me. Her laughter echoing through the halls. Her hands in the garden, coaxing life from dead soil. Her voice, late at night, reading to me when the nightmares came.
When had it stopped being clinical?
When had I started *needing* her?
I slammed my fist on the desk. The wood cracked.
*You don't love me.* That's what she'd said. And I—I'd said *nothing.*
Because I didn't know what I felt. Because Serena was awake, and duty said—pack law said—fate said—
*Fate.*
The word tasted like ash.
I'd been so certain Serena was my fated mate. The elders confirmed it. The bond, they said, was merely dormant because of the coma. Once she woke, it would ignite.
She'd been awake five days.
Nothing had ignited.
When I touched Serena, I felt—obligation. Comfort. Familiarity. But not the fire. Not the pull that was supposed to be undeniable, all-consuming.
Not the pull I felt when—
I stood abruptly, pacing to the window.
The garden below was dark. Nora's roses—the ones she'd planted our first spring—swayed in the wind. Unattended now. Already wilting.
My phone rang. I lunged for the pieces—then remembered. Grabbed the desk phone instead.
"What?"
"Alpha." My Delta's voice was tight. "Something... happened. About an hour ago, we felt a pulse. A power surge, originating from the eastern borderlands."
"And?"
"Sir, it was a Lycan awakening. A *pure-blood* Lycan."
I went still. Pure-blood Lycans were legends—extinct, powerful beyond measure. If one had awakened...
"Every Alpha within five hundred miles will have felt it," the Delta continued. "Blackridge Dominion is already moving. Whoever this Lycan is, they'll be the most valuable wolf alive."
The timing. The eastern borderlands. The direction Nora had gone.
*No. Impossible. Nora was wolfless.*
But a cold certainty was settling in my chest—irrational, terrifying, absolute.
"Get me a car," I said. "Now."
"Alpha, you can't just leave—Serena—the ceremony preparations—"
"GET ME A CAR."
I didn't wait for a response. I was already moving. Already running.
Because something in my bones was screaming that the woman I let walk away—the woman I'd called a placeholder—was something I never deserved.
And if I didn't find her first, I'd lose her forever.
---
She was gone.
The words didn't make sense. I read the Beta's report three times, standing in my office at 2 AM, and still—they didn't make sense.
*Nora left. Crossed the border. No trace.*
I called her phone. Dead. Called again. Dead. Threw the phone against the wall. It shattered into pieces that scattered across the floor like my thoughts.
"Find her." My voice came out wrong—shredded, desperate. My Beta flinched.
"Alpha, she signed the withdrawal papers. Legally, she's—"
"I said FIND HER."
He left. I was alone.
I sank into my chair—the same chair I'd sat in when she placed her resignation on my desk. I could still smell her. Lavender and rain. The scent was already fading from the room, from the house, from everything.
*It wasn't like that.* That's what I'd told her. But what was it like, then?
The contract. My father had arranged it with her dying mother—a business deal wrapped in mercy. *Take her. Protect her. Keep her until Serena wakes.* I was nineteen. Serena had just fallen into the coma—cursed by a rival pack's witch. I was grieving, furious, broken. And then this girl appeared—quiet, gentle, with those soft brown eyes that looked at me like I was her whole world.
I told myself I'd keep it clinical. Keep my distance.
Three years. Three years of her warmth beside me. Her laughter echoing through the halls. Her hands in the garden, coaxing life from dead soil. Her voice, late at night, reading to me when the nightmares came.
When had it stopped being clinical?
When had I started *needing* her?
I slammed my fist on the desk. The wood cracked.
*You don't love me.* That's what she'd said. And I—I'd said *nothing.*
Because I didn't know what I felt. Because Serena was awake, and duty said—pack law said—fate said—
*Fate.*
The word tasted like ash.
I'd been so certain Serena was my fated mate. The elders confirmed it. The bond, they said, was merely dormant because of the coma. Once she woke, it would ignite.
She'd been awake five days.
Nothing had ignited.
When I touched Serena, I felt—obligation. Comfort. Familiarity. But not the fire. Not the pull that was supposed to be undeniable, all-consuming.
Not the pull I felt when—
I stood abruptly, pacing to the window.
The garden below was dark. Nora's roses—the ones she'd planted our first spring—swayed in the wind. Unattended now. Already wilting.
My phone rang. I lunged for the pieces—then remembered. Grabbed the desk phone instead.
"What?"
"Alpha." My Delta's voice was tight. "Something... happened. About an hour ago, we felt a pulse. A power surge, originating from the eastern borderlands."
"And?"
"Sir, it was a Lycan awakening. A *pure-blood* Lycan."
I went still. Pure-blood Lycans were legends—extinct, powerful beyond measure. If one had awakened...
"Every Alpha within five hundred miles will have felt it," the Delta continued. "Blackridge Dominion is already moving. Whoever this Lycan is, they'll be the most valuable wolf alive."
The timing. The eastern borderlands. The direction Nora had gone.
*No. Impossible. Nora was wolfless.*
But a cold certainty was settling in my chest—irrational, terrifying, absolute.
"Get me a car," I said. "Now."
"Alpha, you can't just leave—Serena—the ceremony preparations—"
"GET ME A CAR."
I didn't wait for a response. I was already moving. Already running.
Because something in my bones was screaming that the woman I let walk away—the woman I'd called a placeholder—was something I never deserved.
And if I didn't find her first, I'd lose her forever.
---