Chapter 8 : First War

Andrew’s POV

“What happened to Elena?” I screamed, my voice cracked like a whip throughout the room knowing that l last saw her at the lake and left, believing that she will return to the pack since she has no where else to go. I could hardly hear anything else, to my horror, except the horrifying terror look on Rowan's face. His eyes were very big, like a scared little boy, and they gave me the answer even before his mouth opened.

“She's gone,” he muttered very quietly. “I went back to her room to get her, to beg her to fight for the bond, for the pack. But the window was open. The scent trail goes to the lake… and then it disappeared at the border stones.”

Gone.

The word slammed me so hard that it felt like air was being taken out of my lungs. Without even realizing it, I was already standing; the whiskey glass was flying off the wall in a scattering of amber and crystal without my knowing.

The bond in me was turning in a terrible way, a living wire that was pulled too tight and was now tingling with her absence. It was not that dull pain of rejection anymore; it was a blade that was sawing at bone.

"You let her walk out?" I yelled, Rowan coming towards me with an angry look. My claws were beginning to tear at my fingertips as if they were imploring to be pulled out.

“You, of all people, the one who is always talking about fate and prophecy, and you let my mate slip through the border like a thief?”

Rowan kept his composure and alignment with the moment of the conversation. “I didn’t let her do anything, Andrew. She’s terribly sad. You broke her in front of the whole pack and then you sent me to fix the mess. Now, she thinks that disappearing is the nicest thing to do.”

Kindness. 

The word sounded like metal in my mouth. Yes, I had instructed her to disappear. I even went as far as to drag those words out in front of the council, Selene smiling a victorious smile, and my mother nodding in approval. I had told it to myself as a strategy. As a strength. As a survival.

But the bond didn't care about any of that.

The bond only cared that her scent was disappearing, that the path there was colder than usual, that every second she was farther from me the emptiness in my chest was getting bigger and bigger.

I shoved past Rowan with great force, my boots hitting the stone and the sound of my steps reverberating down the corridor. The wolves that were there before are now running away like scared deer. 

But I didn't look at them. All I could remember was her throat under my hand warm, fluttering, defiant. Even though with her eyes, she was promising war, the way she had leaned into the grip.

I was hit by the cold night air like a slap when I ran out of the palace doors. The moonlight was outlining the treeline with silver and the lake was shining at a distance, making fun of me with its calm.

I smelled a thousand things; pine, wet earth, and the weak copper of my own anger before I finally came upon it: Elena. If I might say so, wildflowers and tempest, and also something more pointed. Fear? Or fury?

I ran.

The forest was moving too fast for me to see. The branches were scraping my shirt and cutting my skin which I was not feeling. My wolf was against my ribs, howling to be let go, to be the one to follow, to be the one to take. I only half permitted the change to happen; claws, teeth, night-sharp eyes just enough to be able to get through the underbrush without losing the man who still had questions that only she could answer.

I burst through the treeline, claws shredding bark, heart hammering louder than my wolf’s howl. Elena stood at the border stones, moonlight silver on her tear-streaked face, one foot already beyond the pack line. Her scent of wildflowers, storm, defiance slammed into me like a fist.

“Elena.” My voice cracked, raw.

She spun, eyes flashing gold. “Come to finish the rejection, Alpha?” The word dripped venom.

I stopped an arm’s length away, claws retracting. “I was wrong.”

A bitter laugh. “Wrong? You marked me, humiliated me, told me to vanish. Now you chase me into the dark?”

The bond screamed, a live wire between us. I took a step; she mirrored it backward, heel scraping the stone. “I felt you leave,” I said. “It carved me open.”

“Good.” Her chin lifted. “Feel it. Remember it every time you look at Selene.”

“I don’t want Selene.” The confession tore free. “I want—” I swallowed. “I need the girl who leaned into my grip even while promising war.”

Her breath hitched. “You don’t get to need me after breaking me.”

“I’m not asking forgiveness tonight.” I closed the distance, slow, palms open. “I’m asking you to come back. For the pack. For the legend. For us.”

She searched my face, wolf eyes narrowing. “And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow I fix what I shattered.” My hand rose, hovering near her cheek but not touching. “Starting with you wearing my mark proudly.”

A tremor ran through her. “Swear it.”

“On my blood, on the moon.” I let one claw prick my palm; crimson beaded. “No more disgrace. No more Selene. Just you.”

Silence stretched, thick as the forest night. Then she stepped forward, pressing her forehead to mine. “One chance, Andrew. Burn me again and I’ll take the pack down with me.”

Relief flooded me, sharp as pain. I cupped her jaw, thumb brushing the bruise I’d left. “Understood, little storm.”

She pulled back, eyes fierce. “Then lead the way, Alpha. Dawn’s close.”

I offered my

bleeding hand. She took it.

“You will marry me tomorrow, Elena.”