{LORCAN}
"Iris!"
My roar tore through the night, swallowed by the relentless downpour. My eyes scanned the empty cave, the place where I had left her, where she should have been. But it was empty—eerily, impossibly empty.
Iris was gone!
A sharp, primal dread sank its claws into my chest, suffocating me. I stepped further into the cave, my heart hammering.
The scent of damp earth mixed with the lingering trace of my scent on her—a faint scent that had become my anchor in this world of chaos. But it was fading.
Since she had no scent of her own, my wolf pressed against her, rubbing along her skin to coat her in mine. It was a primal instinct, a desperate attempt to claim her, to mark her as protected.
But I knew it wouldn't last long. The rain would wash it away, and soon, she'd be scentless once more—vulnerable to whatever had lured her into the night.
The amulets I had left at the entrance for protection were untouched, still humming with the faint energy meant to ward off the monsters that lurked in the darkness.
The markings I had carved outside, the ones meant to keep other beasts at bay, remained. My scent, my warning to all creatures that this place was claimed, had not been disturbed.
And yet—she was gone.
I clenched my jaw, my breathing ragged. No, no, no.
I had left her here. I had given her shelter, food, water.
I had made sure she was safe until I figured out what to do with her or where to take her.
So where the hell was she? Did she wake up and decide, You know what would be a great idea? Wandering into a dark, rainy forest without a wolf. She wasn't that much of an idiot . . . was she?
A guttural snarl rumbled in my throat, my muscles coiling with the overwhelming urge to move. The cave walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me with their silence. My instincts screamed, my wolf pacing within me, a restless, furious storm.
I bolted.
The rain lashed against my skin as I emerged into the dark forest, the storm swallowing the sound of my footfalls.
My head snapped to the left, then the right, eyes sharp, scanning every shadow, every disturbance in the undergrowth.
Her tracks were faint, barely visible under the fresh onslaught of rain. But I could still make them out—the hurried, uneven pattern, the way the mud was disturbed as if she had been running.
Why was she running?
My pulse quickened. My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists.
I needed to be faster.
Without hesitation, I let the shift took me.
Pain ripped through my body as bones snapped and realigned, my muscles tearing and reforming. My skin burned as grey fur erupted across my limbs, my claws lengthening, my senses sharpening. The night became clearer, every scent, every movement, every heartbeat in the distance laid bare before me.
Then, I ran.
The forest blurred around me as my wolf pushed forward, his desperation making him reckless. His claws dug into the soft earth, tearing through mud and stone alike as he leaped over fallen branches, weaving through the trees like a phantom.
The rain soaked his fur, but he didn't feel the cold. Only the fire in his veins, the searing worry that gnawed at his sanity.
She was unshifted.
Alone.
Defenseless.
A rogue without her wolf was nothing more than prey out here. And the forest at night—this forest—was a death trap.
He push himself harder, faster, not caring if he break. I have to find her, was his only thought.
The ground shattered beneath him, every stride a blur of savage power, a blur of hopeless determination. He moved like a shadow, faster than he had ever run before, claws slicing through the rain-soaked earth, his senses screaming at him to go faster, to find her.
Her scent, my scent—it was there. Faint, barely discernible, but unmistakable. His nose flared, dragging him towards it. And then, he caught something else.
Blood.
The scent flooded his senses, overwhelming, nauseating. The metallic tang clawed at his gut, igniting something primal inside him. He could almost taste the sharpness of it, feel the weight of it in his chest.
She's hurt.
A savage growl built in his chest, the sound raw and primal, a roar that shook the trees. He sprinted harder, fueled by fury, by fear.
He was close. So close.
Through the rain and the trees, he found the scent of blood. Corpses, torn apart—monsters, mutilated, blood pooled like a sacrifice beneath the dark sky.
But there was no Iris.
His paws skidded to a stop, heart thundering as he frantically inhaled the air, searching for even the faintest trace of his scent. He spun in circles, howling in frustration, his anger rising, a storm that threatened to consume him.
Where is she?
He knew she had been here, he knew she had been with these monsters, but now—nothing.
The wind picked up, tearing at his fur, and for a brief moment, he felt a flicker of hope. Her body—it wasn't here.
She wasn't dead.
She's still alive.
But where was she?
He pressed on. The rain kept coming, falling harder now, but his determination was stronger than the storm. He could still feel the last thin string of the bond, that invisible thread that should lead him to her.
But still, the forest was vast, and no matter how fast he ran, he didn't find her. She was gone.
The world shifted. The sound of his breath, of his claws, of the rain—everything faded as that realization clawed at his heart.
She's gone.
A howl, raw and full of despair, tore its way out of his throat. The forest shook with it, the night trembling in fear.
And then—silence.
The bond he had with her—the one that should still be there—was gone, severed. A gaping hole opened up inside him, and the pain was unbearable.
I tried to fight it. To ignore the grief that ripped through him, but I couldn't.
He didn't know why I had to do it, why I had failed her. Why I failed him.
The shift was excruciating. I forced it back, each bone snapping painfully, as I returned to my human form, the agony of it clawing at his sanity. My chest heaved with labored breaths, the weight of the storm pressing down on me, but I forced him away, forcing my mind to clear.
I told him she was alive, that this wasn't the end to calm him down.
She has to be alive. She has to be.
But my wolf didn't listen. He raged, snarled, and blamed me.
It was your fault. All of it. My mate is gone!
And he was right.
I didn't answer and just forced him at the back of my mind.
She's alive. She has to be.
Or else my wolf would go mad, and I wouldn't be able to sleep, consumed by guilt for what I did.