Page 13

Austin

My motorcycle skids to a stop in the gravel and I step out, hurrying toward our house.

I can’t believe I left my phone at home.

It must have been the hug that Yelena gave me before I left, distracting me from my responsibilities.

Ever since we slept together and had our disastrous falling out, she’s been distant.

I feel terribly guilty. I shouldn’t have slept with her, it’s only confused things.

To make up for it, I’ve tried to make an effort, seeking her out and intentionally spending time with her, but we’ve barely touched.

It just feels…awkward. The fact that she not only was willing to touch me this morning, but that she initiated it, soothes my wolf while also making me nervous.

Yelena’s blue Honda sedan is not in its spot out front, and I try to remember if she told me what she was up to today. It’s a Wednesday and I think that’s the day she goes to the store, but I can never remember.

I jog up the steps, the familiar creak of the wooden porch under my boots barely registering. When I look over, I freeze at the sight of a very familiar silver Mercedes parked on the side of our house.

Are my parents here?

I sniff the air and sure enough, the scent of my parents and Callie, our pack Seer, are overwhelming.

That’s unusual. A pit in my stomach opens. Something is wrong.

The front door swings open before I can even reach for the doorknob, revealing Callie.

“Come inside, child,” she says, stepping back to usher me into my own home.

My mother is seated on the couch, her eyes red-rimmed, and my father is standing behind her.

“What happened?” I ask, urgently. “Did someone die? What’s wrong?”

“Austin,” Callie says, leading me to the recliner and pushing me toward it. “When did you last see Yelena?”

I look at her dumbly. “Yelena? This morning, at breakfast. It wasn’t even an hour ago!”

She nods. “Did she say anything to you that was unusual or act different from usual?”

I stare at her blankly and wrack my brain to try and understand why Callie of all people is asking me these questions.

“No…” I answer slowly. “She was pretty quiet, but she hasn’t been sleeping well. She ate her toast and eggs. She gave me a hug goodbye, we talked about me bringing home a pie. Is she okay? Did something happen to her?”

My heart is racing, and I feel sick inside at the thought of something potentially harming Yelena.

My mother leans forward and places her hand on my arm.

“Yelena left the pack this morning,” she says quietly. “Forever.”

I lean back, my mind struggling to comprehend the words.

“No. What? You must be mistaken.” I croak out. “Why would she do that?”

“I told you to fix what you broke,” my father roars, glaring at me. “And now look at what you’ve done!”

“We don’t know her reasons for leaving. We must trust that the Moon Goddess has a plan for us all,” Callie answers gently, “What we know right now is that she packed her car and drove away this morning.”

Yelena left the pack. She’s gone. She drove away.

On an intellectual level, I understand the words she’s saying to me, but it’s hard for me to comprehend their truth. It feels as if my heart has been physically ripped from my chest and thrown on the floor.

Yelena is gone.

My wolf howls in pain, and I can barely stand and stagger to the doorway before my shift overtakes me.

My clothing rips as I leap forward into my wolf form and take off toward the forest. I need to find her, to stop her. Nothing else matters.

I can’t find her scent, but I let my wolf lead the way, and we rush through the forest toward the mountain road.

We bound over the hard, uneven ground, the rustling leaves and snapping twigs beneath us barely registering as my lungs burn from the exertion.

My mind is a whirlwind of denial and panic as I try to push faster, harder.

The wind rushes past, whipping my fur back as I run faster than I ever have before.

Sharp rocks occasionally pierce the pads of my feet, but the pain only propels me further.

All I can think about is Yelena.

But no matter how fast I run, I know I won’t catch her. It’s been almost an hour. She could be anywhere by now.

Regret and pain hit me in waves. She didn’t just leave our pack, she left me.

The edge of the forest gives way to a curved stretch of mountain road, and I skid to a stop, raising my snout to cast about for any trace of her scent on the wind.

Nothing.

I can see the overlook from here—a cliff that is high enough that I can see the winding mountain road leading away from the pack lands.

My heart clenches at the sight of a small blue speck disappearing around a bend—Yelena’s car.

I’m too late.

I let out a howl, long and mournful, releasing the pain and shock into the air.

My wolf whimpers, nudging at my consciousness with his own sorrow.

This pain is unfamiliar. I don’t know how to process it.

I only know that Yelena’s absence feels like a physical wound. It’s a raw, gaping hole in my heart.

She’s gone. She actually left . And with her, a piece of me is suddenly gone too.

I stagger to a rock and sit, unable to stand any longer. The agony washes over me in waves.

Reality hits me like an eighteen-wheeler. I love her. And now she’s gone.