Chapter 77: Torn Apart

Chapter 77: Torn Apart Kaya Time ceases to matter. The whole world stops spinning the moment I hear that one word—mate. I can’t even count how many times I dreamed of being called that. For real. Mate—the one destined to belong with another. Mate—a soul tied to another by the will of the Moon Goddess, a bond etched into the bones. Mate—a love so fated it can kill you when it’s denied. When I first met Damien, he told me I was his true mate. And for nine years, I believed it. I believed that was why I was his favorite. And even though I’d felt safe by his side—content, even—I had never felt... anything deeper. He said I was special. But he never held a special place in my heart. Because he was never our mate. A foreign female voice echoes inside my head, sharp and unfamiliar. My skull suddenly feels like it’s filled with molten lead. I wince, clutching it as the sound grows louder—piercing, relentless, impossible to ignore. The world begins to spin—violently—and before I even realize it, I’m on my knees, panting, gasping for air. My palms press hard over my ears, but nothing can shut her out. I’m scared. I don’t understand what’s happening. The voice keeps rising in volume, drowning out my thoughts, splitting me open from the inside. Kaya?She says my name—and it’s like my brain is being torn apart. Kaya?She repeats, softer now, but it only makes the ache worse. I feel like my chest is about to explode. Kaya! I’m choking on my tears, my lungs burning, my head both spinning and threatening to burst all at once. The chaos inside me is unbearable, spiraling faster with every breath. "Kaya, please—calm down!" The tone of the voice shifts, soft and urgent, and then a pair of warm arms wraps tightly around me, anchoring me to a body that radiates heat like a hearth in the dead of winter. "Kaya," the voice murmurs again, closer now, grounding me. It’s Magnus. And just like that, the storm begins to quiet. Everything else—every scream, every pulse of pain, every crashing wave of confusion—fades into nothing. There is only him. "Connect," he whispers, his large hand gently brushing through my damp, tangled hair. "She needs you to connect with her. So please... breathe. Accept her." I close my eyes, a strange and tender relief washing over me, seeping into my bones as Magnus continues to lull me with his voice. His calm becomes my calm. Slowly, the static fades, the noise dims. No more ringing. No more pain. Only stillness. The darkness behind my eyelids begins to shimmer, a faint silver glow fluttering through the void. It grows, steadily, pushing back the shadows until it reaches the center of my mind. Kaya. That same voice again—but this time, it’s serene. Melodic. Like music sung by starlight. I focus. And then—I see her. She is radiant. Towering. Majestic. A pearl-white wolf cloaked in cascading fur streaked with silver that gleams like falling stardust. Her presence hums with power and grace. She walks toward me—slow, elegant, regal. Each step is fluid, precise, like the movement of moonlight on water. Her silver eyes meet mine, and in them, I find no fear. No anger. Only warmth. Kindness. An aching familiarity. Then, she stops just before me, lowers her massive head with reverence, and bows. To me. "We meet at last," she says, nudging my hands gently with her snout. "I’m Rana. Your wolf." "Rana..." I whisper, repeating the name in awe, still mesmerized by the breathtaking creature who lives within me. So this is what I look like when I shift. This is what I sound like. This is what I am. Tears spill down my cheeks—hot, heavy, and salty. I’m overwhelmed, consumed by a strange blend of sorrow and joy, unsure of how to react to her presence, unsure of what this moment is supposed to mean. So I do the only thing that feels right—I sink to my knees and wrap my arms around her neck, pressing my face into her thick, silken fur. She welcomes me without hesitation. I feel her heartbeat thundering beneath her chest, hear the slow rise and fall of her breath. Her warmth melts into mine, and for the first time in my life, I feel whole. We are one. Rana is my wolf. She is me—and I am her. "She’s finally here," I whisper aloud, and I feel Magnus shift beside me, startled by the sound of my voice. He leans back slightly, his warm hands brushing the tangled strands of hair from my tear-streaked face with a gentleness that steals my breath. "My wolf," I repeat, softer this time—so soft, it’s almost only for me. But Magnus hears it. And he smiles. A quiet, radiant smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. "Athan can feel her, too," he says, his voice low. But this time, his expression falters. Just slightly—but enough to pierce something deep within me. I can feel him, too. Rana’s voice echoes inside my mind, soft and solemn. I can feel him. Our mate. The moment she says it, something inside me snaps. All I can feel is Magnus’s scent—raw, grounding—and the thunder of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. He’s still so close. Too close. I want to melt into him, to close the impossible distance between us until the very act of colliding might break us both.But when I lift my eyes to meet his, searching—desperate—for a trace of that same longing, I find nothing. Only that same familiar sadness. And something else—something colder. Something that looks like regret. And just like that, I’m lost all over again.We’re mates. True mates.We both know it now. So why... why does he still look at me like this? "Magnus, I—" "No." He cuts me off, voice hoarse and low, shaking his head as a curtain of disheveled dark curls falls over his eyes. I hear Rana whimper inside me, her grief echoing my own. "The first time we met," Magnus says, and when he looks at me again, his gaze has turned sharper—darker. Cold. "You said you knew who I was. But you didn’t. You still don’t. And that is exactly why..." His jaw clenches. His throat bobs. "...we shouldn’t be mates." And just like that, my world shatters.Completely. It’s like being torn apart and stitched back together, only to be ripped to pieces once more.Again. And again. I feel the blood in my veins turn to ice.But somehow, I still manage to hold onto the fraying edges of my composure. And I ask the only question that makes sense to me right now: "...Why not?"