153

The forest was endless.

Loco didn’t know how many days had passed since he’d left. He didn’t care. Hunger clawed at his stomach, but he ignored it. His muscles burned from walking, but he didn’t stop. Not because he was strong, but because he didn’t know where else to be.

Branches tore at his arms. Mud soaked through his boots. Rain came and went without warning. The world felt feral. Unforgiving. Like it had sensed the storm inside him and decided to match it.

He hadn’t spoken in hours.

Not since he screamed her name into the void two nights ago, voice cracking like glass against stone. Not since the echo of “Bavanda!” had come back at him with no answer. Just birds scattering into the air and the wind brushing past him like it pitied him.

He stopped walking at last.

His knees hit the forest floor as he let out a deep, shuddering breath. He tilted his head back and stared through the canopy at the night sky, where the moon peeked through like it was watching him suffer in silence.

“Is this what you wanted?” he muttered to the sky. “You told her I was hers. You gave me to her.”

Silence answered.

He punched the nearest tree. Hard. Again, and again. The hard bark splintered. His knuckles split, bood smearing across the trunk like a war mark. He didn’t stop until his body gave out and he collapsed by the riverbank, chest heaving, lips trembling.

The cool earth beneath him welcomed him like a grave. And maybe that’s what he wanted.

The river beside him trickled quietly, as if trying to lull him into sleep. But sleep didn’t come. Not anymore. He just lay there, eyes burning, mouth dry, whispering things only the night could hear.

“You should’ve just said yes,” he murmured, voice hoarse and broken. “You should’ve wanted me.”

His eyes squeezed shut. He could still see her standing in that clearing. Could still hear her voice—so soft, so scared. “I didn’t say yes because I was afraid…”

That should’ve meant something. That should’ve been enough.

But it wasn’t. Not for what he went through. Not for the nights he waited. The days he planned. The dreams he let himself believe in.

“You don’t get to want me now,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Not after everything.”

A branch snapped nearby.

Loco sat up, hand instinctively moving to the small knife at his belt. But what stepped through the shadows wasn’t a threat.

It was a lone wolf.

Large, silver-gray, and calm. Its glowing eyes met his across the flickering moonlight. It didn't look hostile. It just stood there...watching. Curious, maybe. Or simply witnessing.

Loco let out a bitter breath and lowered his hand.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice barely above a rasp. “Go ahead. Tear me apart. Might hurt less than what she did.”

The wolf didn’t move.

Loco laughed, the sound empty, cold. He dragged himself up onto a nearby stone, legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion and emotion.

“Figures. Even a wolf pities me.”

The wolf took a step closer, then stopped. Sat down, calm and regal.

Loco turned away, shoulders hunched. The fire in his chest had dimmed to ashes.

The forest didn’t offer answers. Neither did the moon. Neither did the gods.

And still, he couldn’t stop seeing her—Bavanda, with her stormy eyes and trembling hands. With that damn ring box she never opened. With all her words that came too late.

“You could’ve saved me,” he said into the quiet. “You had every chance.”

No answer.

Only the river, the wolf, and the loneliness that had settled into his bones like rot.

Loco didn’t cry. Not because he didn’t want to—but because he had nothing left in him. No more tears, no more rage. Only this strange, heavy silence.

The kind that follows a storm that never ends. He lay back on the cold earth, eyes open to the stars.

“If you ever loved me,” he said to the sky, to her, to the wolf, to no one at all, “you’ll find me.”

And if she didn’t?

He wouldn’t come back. Not again.

***

It was a quiet day—but Bavanda feels like she's walking through fire.

She had never felt so exposed.

She walked through the training fields, pretending to check on the pups, nodding stiffly at those who greeted her, but it was all just a performance. Her steps were heavy, her chest tight. Every glance felt like a dagger. Every whisper, like a howl.

She didn’t need to hear what they were saying. She already knew.

“She yelled at him in public.”
“Drove him away. He left without a word. That must mean something.”
“She’s not stable enough to lead.”
“He loved her. Everyone saw it—except her.”

The worst part? She agreed with them.

She stopped by the edge of the field and closed her eyes, taking in a sharp breath. Her fingers found their way to the ring box in her pocket again—hidden, heavy and unopened.

The wind whispered through the trees. Somewhere far off, a pair of warriors sparred. She heard the crack of wood against wood. A pup yelped. A mother laughed.

The world kept turning like it hadn’t shattered.

“Bavanda,” a voice called.

She turned and saw Steve, his eyes cautious. He nodded toward the Alpha house. “They want to see you.”

Of course they did.

She nodded once and followed him in silence. The hallways felt longer today. Too brigh, certainly more quiet than it used to be. When she entered the council room, Gina stood by the window, arms crossed. Avynna sat near the fire, her face unreadable. Baron paced like a caged wolf.

The moment she stepped in, the air tightened. No one spoke for a minute, longer enough to feel like eternity.

“Sit,” Baron said, and it didn’t feel like a request.

She sat.

Avynna broke the silence. “Do you know where he is?”

Bavanda shook her head. “No.”

“You pushed him out of this pack,” Gina said, sharp. “We all watched it happen.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Bavanda said, voice low. “I didn’t mean to—”

“But you did,” Baron snapped. “You let your emotions run wild. In front of the whole pack. You humiliated him.”

“I was hurting too,” she argued, eyes flashing. “You think it didn’t kill me to see him with someone else?”

Baron leaned forward. “This isn’t about jealousy anymore. The pack is teetering. They’re scared. They’re whispering. Wondering if the Alpha's daughter is going to fall apart. Wondering if her mate is ever coming back.”

Bavanda froze. Mate?

Her lips parted but the words wouldn't form. Loco was not her mate. She loved him—more than she could ever imagine—but that didn't make him her mate, did it? She didn't feel it.

She had heard the stories, she knew the tales. She even had the story of her parents' meeting and the journey afterwards with the mating bond engraved in every corner of her memory.

She knew how it was supposed to feel like, even though she had never felt it. She knew what happened when one first came across their mate, and she didn't mean to make matters worse than it already was by thinking about this, but she couldn't get it off her mind. When she and Loco met, she almost lost her life.

That was not what a mating bond felt like.

Avynna's voice snapped her out of thoughts. “Are you even listening to us?"

Bavanda bowed her head immediately, a thousand and one thoughts swirling through her mind. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled half-heartedly.

Avynna’s voice softened, but the weight in it remained. “You don’t get to be reckless anymore, Bavanda. Not now. Not with everything at stake.”

Bavanda’s hands clenched on her lap. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”

“Intentions don’t matter,” Gina said. “Results do.”

Silence fell again.

Baron walked over and dropped a folder in front of her. She hesitated, before reaching out for it. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she opened it. Her eyes scanned through.

Patrols missed. Pack funds misallocated. Schedules disrupted. The ripple effect of Loco’s absence was clear.

This couldn't possibly be her fault.

“We’re not asking you to be perfect,” Baron said. “But we’re asking if you’re ready to lead.”

Bavanda’s throat tightened. “I—”

The door opened suddenly. Everyone turned.

It was Steve.

He looked pale but composed.

Baron and Avynna turned to him, expectations flashing through their eyes. “Any news?"

Bavanda looked up, realization dawning on her that they had sent people to find Loco. Something she should have done.

Steve shook his head. “He’s gone. No one’s seen him past the northern border. We've got nothing, even though we've searched everywhere—neighbouring packs, the woods, bars, cabins and all of that. At this point, I don't really know where else to look.”

No one spoke.

Bavanda felt her heart sink past her ribs, past her stomach, into
a pit she couldn’t climb out of.

Then came the question no one wanted to ask.Steve looked around the room, then finally said it:
“What do we do if he doesn’t come back?”