Chapter 4: Left

I wake to the golden light of dawn filtering through the trees, the gentle warmth brushing against my bare skin. The forest is quiet, peaceful in the way that only the early morning allows. For a moment, I don’t move, basking in the stillness, in the lingering traces of the bond humming inside me. My body aches, sore in ways that make my face flush, but the pain is good. It is a reminder. A mark of completion. I stretch, my limbs heavy with exhaustion but tingling with something else—satisfaction, fulfillment. The damp grass beneath me is cold against my bare back, an uncomfortable contrast to the heat still simmering under my skin. I hate the feeling of it, the wet earth clinging to my body, but it hardly matters. Not when my mate is here. Not when he is— My hand reaches out instinctively, expecting warmth, expecting solid muscle and the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. Expecting him. My fingers meet nothing. I blink, the sleep still clouding my mind as I turn my head, expecting to see him just out of reach. Maybe sitting up, stretching, watching me with those piercing blue eyes. Maybe waiting for me to wake so he could pull me into his arms again. But the space beside me is empty. The indent where his body should be is already cold. I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes as unease begins to creep up my spine. My heart pounds a little harder, though I tell myself not to panic. He wouldn’t leave. He’s just nearby, maybe getting water or scouting the area. He wouldn’t just disappear. Except... the bond. I inhale deeply, searching for his scent on the breeze. The remnants of it are there—faint, lingering from last night—but already fading. It’s too weak. Too distant. My stomach twists. I stand quickly, ignoring the way my legs shake beneath me, my body still weak from the night before. My pulse is thudding in my ears now, the early signs of panic tightening in my chest. I spin around, scanning the clearing, then the treeline. "Mate?" My voice is soft, uncertain. Silence greets me. The wind rustles through the leaves, birds chirp in the distance, but nothing—**no one—**answers me. I take a shaky step forward, then another. The unease turns into dread as I begin moving faster, my breath coming quicker. "He wouldn’t leave," I whisper to myself, forcing the words into existence. "He wouldn’t just—" The bond tugs at me, an invisible thread that should lead me to him, that should keep me anchored to him. But it’s unraveling. The warmth I felt only moments ago is slipping away, fraying at the edges like something that was never meant to last. No. I break into a run, pushing through the trees, my bare feet skidding against dirt and stone as I follow the fading trace of his presence. The scent is nearly gone now, vanishing like mist in the morning sun. My chest aches, tight and suffocating, but I refuse to stop. I call for him, over and over, my voice cracking as the realization claws at the edges of my mind. He’s not here. He’s not coming back. But still, I search. I search long past the point of reason, long past the moment when my lungs burn and my legs threaten to give out beneath me. I search until the panic turns into something sharper, something that wraps around my ribs and squeezes until I can barely breathe. And then, all at once, the bond snaps. I stumble, my body lurching forward as pain—**real, physical pain—**rips through me. It feels like something is being torn from my chest, like a jagged blade carving through my soul. My knees hit the ground, my hands clawing at the dirt, but the pain doesn’t stop. It grows. It consumes. A wounded sound escapes me, something between a gasp and a sob. My vision blurs, tears spilling over my cheeks as the truth sinks in, heavy and unbearable. He’s gone. I clutch at my chest as if I can hold myself together, as if I can somehow keep the bond from shattering completely. But I can’t. It’s already breaking, already unraveling into something hollow and cold. The silence around me is deafening, pressing against my ears until it feels like the whole world has stopped moving. The wind has died. The birds have gone quiet. Even the trees stand still, like solemn witnesses to my devastation. I suck in a ragged breath, but it does nothing to steady me. Nothing can. And then I scream. The sound tears through the stillness, raw and broken, ripped straight from my soul. "He fucking mated me and left!" My voice cracks, the words twisting into something desperate, something feral. I don’t recognize the sound of it, don’t recognize myself in the way my body shakes, the way my fingers dig into the earth as if I can bury this pain, smother it, make it stop. But nothing stops. Nothing changes. The bond is still there, acting as painful reminder. I lift my head, my face streaked with tears, my body trembling. My throat burns, but I scream again, and again, until my voice gives out, until I have nothing left. And then I collapse. Naked and alone, I curl into myself, wrapping my arms around my shaking body as if I can hold the pieces together. But I am not whole. I am empty.I am ruined, I close my eyes, but the darkness offers no comfort. There is only pain. There is only the gaping hole in my chest, the echo of a bond that is supposed to be forever. There is only the aching knowledge that I found him. And now, he’s nowhere to be found.