Chapter 4

Mortimer's POV

The Swedish aurora writhed across the sky like a fever dream. Those eerie green lights felt like cold snakes, strangling the breath right out of me. I stood on the balcony, my thumb mindlessly rubbing the edge of my phone.

"You're on edge, Mortimer." Deep in my head, my wolf—Barton—let out a jagged growl. The vibration made my skull ache.

"I'm just thinking about the pack," I shot back.

A moment later, I reached back into the mind-link. "But... fine. Tell me how our mate is doing."

Barton paced restlessly in my mind, claws digging into the void. "I've got nothing. That temporary mark you gave her a year ago? It's gone. Faded to nothing."

His words hit me like a physical blow. It was true. Ever since Alaska, the bond between Seraphina and me had gone stone cold.

She used to be a chronic over-sharer. She'd send me photos of anything—even a weirdly shaped leaf she found on the sidewalk. I usually blew her off. In our world, catching feelings is a death sentence. But now, her chat window was a ghost town.

Was she playing games? Some pathetic attempt at a protest? All because I'd ditched her to save Vivian?

The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Morty? You there? Come take a picture of me!" Vivian ran over, camera in hand, wearing that innocent little pout. Her eyes flicked toward my phone, and for a split second, I saw a flash of ice in her gaze. It was gone before I could blink. When I looked again, there was nothing but concern.

Maybe I was just seeing things.

"Morty, are you worried about Seraphina?" Vivian tilted her head. "It's all my fault... If I hadn't made you come back that day, she wouldn't be this mad. Maybe you should just... I don't know, apologize?"

Apologize?

I let out a dry, sharp laugh. I was the Alpha of the strongest pack in North America. "Apology" wasn't in my vocabulary. I hated being guilt-tripped, and I hated showing weakness—especially to my mate.

"If she's going to act like a brat over a life-or-death situation, then she's clearly not ready to be a Luna," I said, shoving my phone into my pocket. "Go stand over there. I'll take the shot."

Vivian gave the lens a dazzling smile, but I wasn't even looking at the frame. I told myself she'd only lied about the kidnapping because her wolf was weak and she was spiraling.

She didn't mean any harm. I was just here to keep her calm. My conscience was clear.

So why was Barton howling like his world was ending?

Back at the hotel, a crushing sense of loss started to hollow me out—the kind of grief you only feel when a mate is truly gone. I stared at Seraphina's profile picture. She was in her healer's uniform, looking soft and kind.

"Find her," I ordered.

"I can't!" Barton wailed, curling into a ball. "The bond is dead air. Just static. You idiot—you never should've left her."

"I was saving a life," I hissed.

But the regret was already set in. If I'd just finished the marking ceremony under that blood moon, I'd be able to feel her heart beating right now. Then, the memory of our goodbye flashed back: Seraphina standing in the snow, her face flushed deep red, her eyes glassy.

Damn it. I thought she was just freezing. Now I realized—that was the start of her heat.

Whatever. She'd always been the one chasing me. Maybe I'd throw her a bone and break the silence first. Call it an "alpha's mercy."

I opened the chat, my thumb hovering over the screen. I'd faced down the most bloodthirsty rogues without flinching, yet here I was, actually nervous. It was irritating as hell.

Finally, I sent something short. "See the blood moon yet? Why no photos?"

The ding of the sent message felt like a gunshot in the quiet room.

One minute. Five. Ten. The screen stayed black.

Hours crawled by. My phone was basically an expensive paperweight. The rejection turned into a slow-boil rage in my blood. I slammed the phone onto the nightstand and headed for the shower. I let the ice-cold water hit me, trying to drown out the panic clawing at my chest.

Ten minutes later, I stepped out with a towel around my waist. The screen flickered.

My heart stopped. I didn't even bother grabbing a towel for my hair; I just lunged for the bed. I could feel the corner of my mouth twitching into a smile.

Then I saw the screen, and the smile died.

The chat was still empty. Seraphina hadn't said a word. The notification was just Vivian tagging me in some I*******m post.

I tossed the phone aside, feeling like I'd swallowed a handful of barbed wire.

"Seraphina," I muttered to the empty room. "You've really got some nerve."