Chapter 4: Left
I wake to the golden light of dawn filtering through the trees, the gentle warmth brushing against my bare skin. The forest is quiet, peaceful in the way that only the early morning allows. For a moment, I don’t move, basking in the stillness, in the lingering traces of the bond humming inside me. My body aches, sore in ways that make my face flush, but the pain is good. It is a reminder. A mark of completion.
I stretch, my limbs heavy with exhaustion but tingling with something else—satisfaction, fulfillment. The damp grass beneath me is cold against my bare back, an uncomfortable contrast to the heat still simmering under my skin. I hate the feeling of it, the wet earth clinging to my body, but it hardly matters. Not when my mate is here. Not when he is—
My hand reaches out instinctively, expecting warmth, expecting solid muscle and the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. Expecting him.
My fingers meet nothing.
I blink, the sleep still clouding my mind as I turn my head, expecting to see him just out of reach. Maybe sitting up, stretching, watching me with those piercing blue eyes. Maybe waiting for me to wake so he could pull me into his arms again.
But the space beside me is empty. The indent where his body should be is already cold.
I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes as unease begins to creep up my spine. My heart pounds a little harder, though I tell myself not to panic. He wouldn’t leave. He’s just nearby, maybe getting water or scouting the area. He wouldn’t just disappear.
Except... the bond.
I inhale deeply, searching for his scent on the breeze. The remnants of it are there—faint, lingering from last night—but already fading. It’s too weak. Too distant.
My stomach twists.
I stand quickly, ignoring the way my legs shake beneath me, my body still weak from the night before. My pulse is thudding in my ears now, the early signs of panic tightening in my chest. I spin around, scanning the clearing, then the treeline.
"Mate?" My voice is soft, uncertain.