Chapter 86

Ryan

I'm convinced that I'm going crazy. Without my mate in my mind, or in my arms, I feel like half a puzzle, incomplete and scrambling. I picture her silky hair, her beautiful vast eyes, wide and wandering with love and admiration as she stares at me. Her hands are soft, precious but built with a few callouses, fighting through her first life, and now the second.

I sit at the breakfast table alone, unwilling to even lift my fork, relying on stress and coffee for far too long. I don't mind the jittery adrenaline it gives me; it only fuels me more in the search for my mate. I know she's in the woods near our pack lands, I know she was taken, and if the note meant anything, she is at least somewhat safe in order to be used as collateral.

I hear the door open, Fritz the elder peering into the room before sitting down at the table across from me. He has been the main elder to interact with me, the others awfully timid and quiet when I enter a room, suspiciously so.

"Good morning, Alpha."

I glare in his general direction, my stare blank but screaming in pain. "Morning."

He nods along, seemingly understanding that I'm not in a good spot not, not until I have my mate back. "Are you hitting the trails again today? I can send some of our warriors out to help once they have some breakfast and get suited."

"I won't wait up; they can join me and my warriors out there. I'm leaving soon."

"You should eat, Alpha Ryan. You don't want to get unwell."

"I am unwell without my mate."

He nods slow, almost calculatedly so, his eyes unkind at the source. "We will resolve this issue, Ryan. We don't play well with threats against our character."

I hate to question his intentions, or any of the elders, but I can't help and wonder why someone would accuse them of something so heinous. Sure, rogues are an eye sore and sometimes they break the rules of packs they travel through—stealing, grifting, etcetera, but of course, I wouldn't go out of my way to kill a rogue. Which makes me wonder how the elders would be accused of it so bluntly.

"You should eat," Fritz sighs, looking around as if waiting to be served.

I feel him pressuring me, as though to distract me, both of our minds in the same place now. "Why would a rogue take Alyson?" I hum. Fritz subdues a shiver, though, not well. "I mean, why would he go for the Luna of Crowalt pack, of all packs, and then mention the elders as though to strike a deal with you, not me?"

He mulls over a plate of breakfast one of the staff brings by, seemingly untouched by my subtle conviction and questioning. Looking up, he meets me with dead eyes. "I don't know anything for sure, Ryan, just of what we have been accused of doing."

"Accused of what, exactly? Killing off rogues? That's all?"

He flicks me a look, one I can tell means, don't fucking ask.

I can't play the guessing game any longer, I can only do what I have to do to get my mate back to me, safe and unharmed. I hurry with my coffee and leave without a second look. If he is going to be coy about what he has been accused off, furthering segregating me from my mate, then I will have to do what I can to get her back.

Outside, the rain has returned and I don't care. I shift with my warriors, pouncing through the town with onlookers watching in awe, while I sprint down the path and into the woods near my pack lands. I recall where I found the bottle before, the one tainted with her scent, and I run toward it, leaving the group behind. Tire doesn't touch me. not until I have her back.

My wolf is buzzing, warmth coursing through my veins, and I circle the spot where the bottles still lays, her scent only barely touching the glass now, most of it washed away in this rain. I know the trail of her scent withers from here, almost like it's been covered, or tainted, or she stopped walking and was carried. I try not to think about it too much.

Instead I run, and I continue to run, until my legs are trembling underneath me. my wolf is exhausted, frustrated, as am I, but we press on. Running feels useless, hopeless, but I search every tree, every old deer path, and every nook that may have even a slice of her scent rubbed onto it. I need to find something, anything, that will lead me to her.

I can't help but picture her now, excited to see me, running through the woods, unharmed of course, and launching into my awaiting arms. She would tuck her head into my chest, near my neck, her smell like roses in a wild field. She would smile, so bright that the world would lighten up for just a moment, just long enough to see the twinkle of her eyes.

My wolf whines, my legs giving out, as I collapse in the middle of the woods where my mate was taken through. She would have been petrified, maybe even harmed in order to follow through, knowing how hard headed she can be. But she's not perfect. She would be scared, thinking of me, and thinking of me being scared over her. I hate to consider it all, all the while not being able to comfort her, which drives me to think about how I will never let her go again.

She will remain in my arms forever after this is over.

Forever.

I force myself to stand, to press on, and search the woods more thoroughly than ever before. I pick up a scent that isn't hers, and almost dismiss it as a passing rogue, but something stops me. I have smelled this trail before, the rogue stench also on the bottle that was rung with my mate's lingering lips. I growl lightly, uncontrollably, and follow the ragged scent of this male until I can't anymore.

Looking over the cliff, I spot a rocky decline, a straight cut of the ground leading to a large forest below full of various trees, most of which being sharp pines. I can't imagine anyone jumping down this sheer drop, knowing it would most certainly lead to death, so the question remains.

Where was he taking her, and where did they go from here?