The thread between us—the thing that hums beneath my ribs like a pulse—is wrong somehow. Too faint. Too cold.
I reach for him, but the tether is still.
Not calm. Not quiet.Still.
Like a lake frozen in the middle of winter.
I stop moving and listen, reaching inward to feel him.
Nothing.
Sage, have you ever not felt Red?
He turns to me.What do you mean?
The tether or link between you and him. Has it ever gone quiet? Like from being too far away?
Sage’s tail droops.No, but we’ve never been very far.
You feel him now?
Yes. Why?
The entire forest seems to sway under me. I search deeper, tugging harder on that invisible bond. Tobias should answer—some flicker of awareness, a heartbeat echoing mine, anything.
But there’s nothing.
Fear hits sharp and instant, like an arrow to the gut. I let out a low whine, tail curling between my legs.Tobias.
I say his name like a prayer.
Still nothing.
It’s just my panic. It’s just how overworked and overwhelmed I’ve been. He’s okay.
I try again, forcing power down the link, demanding that my other half reply. He doesn’t.
My claws dig into the dirt as a growl works its way up my throat. Something’s wrong.
I take off without looking back. Forest’s snarl cuts across our pack link.Rowen! Where the hell—
Tobias! Something’s wrong!
William barks after me, voice sharp with command, but I don’t slow. No alpha power can override the need to protect my mate.
Dirt kicks up as I run, fur rustling in the wind. The world sharpens into color and scent and motion, taking in every clue, every detail of what could be happening.
The house looms ahead through the trees, porch lights glowing against the dusk. Jericho is in the yard, a large fireball spinning between his hands. He startles when I sprint by.
Ivy steps out onto the porch just as I reach it. I slip by her, scrambling across the hardwood toward the stairs.
“Rowen!” she calls.
I tug at the tether again, desperate.Tobias, please.
It remains completely, hopelessly still.
Not even a flicker of a single beat.
