Chapter 6

Rafe's Pov

My wolf wanted to howl. It wanted to tear, to break, to sink its teeth into something and not let go.

The silence after the rogues took Luca was worse than the fight. It was loud ringing sharply in my ears, a cold dread filled my heart, where the bond had been. But I could still feel him a thin, silent drag pulling northeast but it felt fragile and stretched.

The river washed the blood from my shoulder but couldn’t touch the fury. I crouched, snatching the silver dart from the mud, its tip was coated with silver Wolfsbane, not for killing but for capture.

“Rafe.”

Zayne called as he stepped out from the tree line, his voice sounded hoarse,and there was a fresh cut above his brow.

His eyes swept the clearing, the dart in my hand his face twitched, but he didn’t ask, he already knew.

“Kindred Rogues.” He said, nodding his head sadly. 

“They are the marked ones, Rafe, they don’t hunt for sport. They hunt for power.”

“They took him.” My voice sounded strange, it was filled with fear and bitterness for my mate.

“I know.”

“They called him something, Lunar Omega.”

Suddenly there was a flicker in Zayne’s eyes, 

“So it’s starting.” He murmured to himself, but the wind blew it to my ears.

“What’s starting?” I asked curiously and took a step toward him.

The wolf in me was a chaos of rage and fear. “What did they mean? What is he?” I roared in anger.

Zayne didn’t flinch, he just grunted with a lopsided smile. “Hope and a death sentence, depends on who gets him first.”

“Stop talking in circles!” The snarl ripped out of me.

 “Where is my mate?”

“Your mate?” Zayne’s laugh was short and bitter. 

“You bit him? Of course you did. You just painted a target on his back twice as bright as the moon” He cursed and ran a hand over his face. 

“The Kindred believe in prophecies, they think a ‘Lunar Omega’ is a key to power. To break curses. They’ll want to test him. To use him.”

The word ‘use’ made me furious. “Where, Zayne?”

He looked toward the dark line of mountains, and pointed to nothing. “They could be anywhere Rafe, anywhere.”

 “The old mines. A stone labyrinth. They could be anywhere in there. And they won’t be the only ones looking for him now. That title… it’s a beacon.”

The bond gave a sudden spike of pain, sharp and bright, that wasn’t physical. It was like the inner body was thrown into a world of pains, but the pain wasn't mine, it was Luca's.

“He’s hurt.” I muttered, grimly as the pain filled the bond.

“No,” Zayne said, his voice dropping low. 

“That’s not pain, that’s shock.” He paused, his gaze turning frightened and wary. 

“They’ve already taken him to the heart of it, to the only prisoner they keep alive down there.”

“Who?”

Zayne met my eyes, I could see pains and secrets in his eyes, they looked heavy and awful. 

“Our mother, Rafe.” 

My world stood on a standstill for a while, disbelief flooding my heart. “She’s dead, Zayne. The rogues killed her years ago.”

“That’s what everyone was supposed to think. What he was supposed to think.” Zayne replied, tightening his jaw.

 “They didn’t kill her! They took her. For the same reason they just took Luca. Because of what they are.”

The ground suddenly felt unsteady under my feets. Luca’s mother. Alive. A prisoner. All this time. “Does he know?”

“He doesn't, but he will the second he sees her, or smells her.” Zayne’s face was grim. 

“And when he does, that shock you just felt? That’s nothing. It will break him wide open. His control, his power, everything will spiral. And the Kindred will be right there to catch the pieces.”

A new kind of fear, cold and slick, filled my heart. It wasn’t just about rescue anymore. It was about containment. About reaching him before his own heart broke him apart.

“We have to go now.”

“It’s a trap Rafe, and you thoughtlessly want to fall into it.” Zayne warned, but he was already shrugging off his pack. 

“You’re leaking blood and bond-scent. You’ll lead every hunter straight to him.”

From his pack, he pulled a jar of foul-smelling paste. “Scent mask. It’ll block everything. Your trail. Your emotions. Your bond.” When he saw my protest, he smiled gently but it seemed eerie.

“You’ll still feel him, but it’ll be very faint, like listening through a wall. It’s the only way we can get close.”

I stood rigid as he smeared the cold, greasy stuff on my neck, my pulse points, over my wounds. The vibrant world of scent died around me. 

The pine, the earth, the water all muted. Worse, the brilliant, guiding thread of the bond faded to a faint sound.

I felt blind.

“Stay close, step where I step. We don’t speak unless we have to.” Zayne’s orders were sharp and short. He moved into the trees, like a shadow among shadows.

The journey was silent, every snap of a twig was a threat. 

The muffled bond was a constant panic in my blood. I couldn’t tell what he was feeling, only that he was feeling too much.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” The question left my lips before I could stop it.

Zayne froze ahead of me, his shoulders tense he didn’t turn. “Tell him what?” That his mother was alive in a hole because of what she was? That he was the same? “It would have been a death sentence.” He hissed.

The only chance was to let him be weak, let him be overlooked, until I could find her and get her out, I faked my death to find her.” He glanced back, his eyes weary and sad.

“But I failed, and now they have them both.”

We reached the foot of the mountains. The entrance was a black tear in the rock, veiled by thorny growth, firelight licked the edges, casting long, dancing shadows. 

We crouched behind a ridge of rock, my heart was thumping rapidly. The quiet bond in my chest gave a strange, fluttering sound. It felt like confusion. Then, her voice, thin, worn. But unmistakable.

“You will not touch him.”

Then, came Luca’s voice, not a shout but a broken frail sound. It sounded as both a plea and a prayer.

“Mom?”

The muffled bond shattered.

It didn’t just return. It exploded. A flow of emotion joy, agony, bewilderment, and fury blasted through the bond link between us, it was so intense like a physical burn in my chest. I gasped, my hand flying to my throat.

Zayne grabbed my arm, his fingers digging in. “Rafe, don’t.”

But it was too late. The explosion of feeling was a signal my own wolf couldn’t ignore. A low, protective growl vibrated in my throat before I could choke it back.

The murmur of voices in the tunnel stopped.

Complete silence from within.

Zayne’s eyes widened. We were done for.

I shifted my weight, ready to spring toward the entrance, to run into

the dark after that feeling.

But before I could turn, I felt the cold kiss of a silver blade pressed against the base of my skull.