Zander’s POV.
I stood up suddenly, the legs of the chair scraping loudly against the floor as it slid back. The sound echoed in the quiet room, but I didn’t care. My movements were fast and sharp, driven by the urgency growing inside me. I turned toward the door, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.
“Zander,” my father called after me, his voice steady but firm, stopping me in my tracks.
I froze in place, my body tense, but I didn’t turn around to face him. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I waited for him to speak.
“Find her,” he said simply, his tone carrying more weight than I expected. It wasn’t just a suggestion; it was a command.
I gave a small nod, my throat tightening as I swallowed hard. Words failed me, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I left the room, my mind focused on one thing: finding Aria.
I ran through the packhouse as fast as my legs could carry me. My wolf stirred within me, restless and clawing to take control. He wanted me to move faster, to push harder, to find her before it was too late. The bond between us was gone, but the connection I felt to her hadn’t disappeared. I needed to find her. I needed to explain, to tell her the truth, to beg her to forgive me for everything I’d done.
But as I searched, a sickening realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t even know where to start looking.
Her scent was faint, so faint that it was barely there anymore. I could tell she had been gone for hours-maybe even longer. The thought made my chest ache with panic. I checked the surrounding woods, running through the familiar paths I knew so well. These were the trails we had walked together so many times before, but now they felt empty, lifeless. I pushed farther, heading toward the nearby town, hoping against hope that I might find some trace of her there. But no matter where I looked, there was nothing.
“Aria!” I shouted into the night, my voice loud and desperate as it echoed through the dark forest. The sound bounced back at me, but there was no reply.
Nothing. No sound, no movement, no sign of her.
Panic began to claw at my chest, tightening around me like a vice. My breathing quickened as the horrible reality started to sink in. She was gone. She had left, and it was my fault. I had driven her away.
For the first time in years, I felt completely helpless. My wolf howled in anguish, the sound tearing through my mind like a raw, open wound. His sorrow was as deep as mine, his guilt as unbearable as my own. The pain was overwhelming, and there was nothing either of us could do to fix it.
My thoughts raced back to her, to all the moments we had shared. I thought about her smile, so bright and full of warmth, the way her eyes lit up whenever she talked about the things she loved. She had always been so full of life, always dreaming, always fighting for what mattered to her. And she had fought for me too. Even when I didn’t deserve it, even when I had pushed her away, she had still fought for me.
Then the memory of our last moment together hit me like a knife to the heart. I could see her face so clearly-the pain in her eyes, the way her shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world had finally crushed her. She had looked so broken, so defeated, and yet she had still begged me to believe her. I hadn’t. I had let her leave, thinking she was guilty of things she hadn’t done.
My legs buckled beneath me, and I sank to my knees on the cold ground. The weight of my mistakes pressed down on me, crushing me under their unbearable heaviness. I had failed her in every way imaginable, and now she was gone because of me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the darkness, my voice cracking as the words left my lips. My hands dug into the dirt, and I felt tears burning in my eyes. But I knew that no matter how many times I said those words, they would never be enough.
It would never be enough to undo the damage I had done. It would never be enough to bring her back.