Chapter 6—The Alpha’s Descent

Theo ran.

The night was thick around him, the forest stretching endlessly in every direction. His paws tore into the earth, muscles coiled tight with every bound. The warriors followed, their dark forms weaving like shadows through the trees.

But Theo didn’t hear them.

Didn’t see them.

All he could feel was the mate bond—thin, weak, unnatural.

Willow was out there. Somewhere. Alive, but distant.

Something was cutting through the bond, muffling it. That was the only reason he wasn’t ripping through the forest, following the connection straight to her.

And that was what terrified him the most.

They had done something to her.

To his mate.

Atlas snarled inside him, so violent, so furious, that Theo’s vision blurred with it. His wolf was on the verge of snapping free, no longer willing to be leashed by reason.

He needed her.

He needed her now.

“Hold on, Willow,” he thought fiercely. “I’m coming.”

The air was heavy with tension, the warriors silent as they ran.

No one questioned their Alpha’s single-minded rage.

No one dared.

Luka and Darius finally caught up, shifting into their human forms as Theo slowed at the riverbank.

“We’ve picked up a trail,” Luka said, panting slightly. “The scent is faint, but it’s there. They covered their tracks well, but not well enough.”

Theo shifted, landing hard on two feet. He barely heard Luka’s words, his mind already piecing together a path. His skin was still hot, still itching with the absence of Willow.

“They didn’t just take her and run,” Darius added. “They had a plan. A vehicle. Something unnatural is masking their scent.”

Theo clenched his jaw. “How far ahead?”

Luka’s expression darkened. “Hours. Maybe half a day. But we’ll gain ground.”

Theo exhaled through his nose, trying to steady the raw, clawing fury inside him. His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his skin.

Think, Theo. Control it.

Anger wouldn’t bring her back. Strategy would.

He turned, eyes blazing. “Then we run.”

They moved fast.

The moon was high, spilling silver light across the trees, guiding them forward. The wolves wove through the dark, their movements precise, silent.

It wasn’t until Luka fell into step beside him that Theo heard his hesitant voice through the mind-link.

“There’s something you need to consider, Alpha.”

Theo didn’t slow. “Speak.”

Luka hesitated before finally saying, “They weren’t trying to kill her. They were trying to take her alive.”

Theo’s chest tightened. “I know.”

“But why?” Luka pressed. “What does Willow have that they want?”

Theo’s breath was sharp. He didn’t have an answer.

“She’s Luna of the Onyx Pack. That alone makes her valuable.”

Luka sounded like he was trying to put pieces together.

“That note said she was more than she seemed. If she remembers, she’ll be unstoppable.”

Theo’s body tensed.

His wolf bristled.

Atlas was done talking. He wanted blood.

Theo shoved him back with everything he had, forcing himself to focus.

He knew what Luka was implying.

That there was something about Willow they didn’t know.

Theo hated that idea.

Because Willow was his.

His mate. His Luna.

He knew her.

Didn’t he?

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I don’t care what they think she is.” His voice was sharp, final. “She’s mine.”

Luka dipped his head in understanding. “We’ll get her back.”

Theo nodded once. “Yes. We will.”

And when they did—

There would be no mercy.

An hour into tracking, Darius stopped abruptly.

Theo turned, irritation sparking. “What?”

The scout was stiff, his nose in the air.

Then, shifting back to human form, he crouched, running his fingers over something in the dirt. A scrap of fabric.

Theo’s pulse hammered as he stepped forward.

Willow’s scent.

It hit him like a force, raw and unmistakable. It was faint, but it was hers.

His fingers clenched around the cloth.

And then—

“Alpha!”

Another scout came crashing through the trees. His breathing was ragged, eyes wild.

Theo’s body snapped to attention. “What?”

The scout held something out.

A torn piece of parchment.

Theo took it, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements.

The handwriting was rushed, barely legible.

But the message?

Clear.

“The fire-haired one belongs to us now. She will forget you. And when she does, she will destroy you.”

The forest was silent.

Theo’s breathing slowed.

And then—

Atlas lost it.

A vicious, gut-wrenching snarl tore from Theo’s throat, so powerful that the trees shook.

His hands trembled as he crushed the paper in his fist, his mind reeling.

What. The. Hell.

Theo wasn’t breathing.

He wasn’t thinking.

All he saw was red.

Atlas was too close to the surface, the wolf’s rage and desperation clawing through him.

They had taken Willow.

They had stolen his mate.

Theo’s vision blurred at the edges. His entire body ached with the bond’s absence.

Atlas snarled inside him, pacing, demanding blood.

Theo let out a slow breath.