Chapter 10
650 Words
The ceremony had started like any other.
Or at least, that’s what he had expected.
He stood near the edge of the clearing, blending into the crowd, moving quietly among wolves he didn’t know. Everyone was tense, excited, whispering, laughing, watching. The elders spoke, the fire blazed, the moon climbed higher.
But he felt it immediately.
Something about this ceremony was… different.
He didn’t know why at first. He couldn’t place it. The air had a subtle weight, heavy, almost electric. The scents were sharper than usual, the sounds more urgent. Something in the energy of the pack shifted. Something told him that tonight would not be ordinary.
He shook his head slightly. It’s nothing, he told himself. Just nerves, or the ceremony… nothing more.
But then he felt it.
A sharp, sudden stab of sorrow.
It hit him like a blade pressed into his chest. His wolf stirred violently, muscles tensing, instincts flaring. He gripped his chest, trying to steady his heartbeat.
It wasn’t his grief.
He had never had a mate. He hadn’t known what heartbreak felt like. Yet here it was, raw and heavy, and it was directed at him in a way that made no sense.
He scanned the crowd. Everyone was celebrating, forming bonds, laughing and crying in joy.
So why did this grief feel so real?
The weight of it made his vision swim. The sorrow pressed on him, deeper than any grief he had ever imagined.
He tried to reason. It’s someone else’s grief… But whose?
Then it struck him in a new, sharper way.
If this is my mate’s emotions… why is it like this?
His fingers dug into his own chest, needing something solid to ground him. His wolf’s instincts flared, uneasy, restless. Anger began to build, quiet at first, like a flicker, then stronger, hotter, dangerous.
Who hurt her?
Why was she crying like this?
He didn’t know her. He had never seen her before. And yet… somehow, his wolf knew this grief belonged to someone who mattered. Someone who needed him.
The anger became determination.
He would find her.
Somewhere in this gathering, she was lost. Vulnerable. Broken.
And he would not let her stay that way.
He shifted his weight, moving through the crowd. Wolves brushed past him, the scents of bonds forming thick in the air, but he barely noticed. He only felt the pull, the tug of something stronger than instinct, stronger than reason.
The pull grew stronger as he moved, guiding him like a thread through the people, the noises, the firelight.
And that’s when he realized people were noticing him.
Eyes turned. Whispers followed him. Wolves stepped aside automatically, bowing heads slightly, murmuring greetings. Some even moved forward, trying to speak to him.
He hated it.
He hated the attention, the respect, the assumptions.
He didn’t care who they were, who they wanted him to be, or what they wanted from him.
He ignored them all.
He kept moving.
Urgently.
His focus was absolute.
The grief pulling at him burned brighter now, sharper, impossible to ignore. His chest ached with the intensity, and his wolf growled low in his throat, restless, impatient, fierce.
She is close. She needs me.
He stepped through the crowd with purpose, ignoring the murmurs, the bows, the words spoken to him. Some reached out, trying to get his attention, but he did not even glance at them.
He was following something only he could feel.
The night seemed to stretch around him, the firelight flickering on faces that all blurred together.
Every step, every heartbeat, brought him closer.
Closer to the source of the grief that had struck him with such force.
He did not yet see her.
He did not yet know her name.
But he knew.
She was here, somewhere in this gathering.
And she needed him.
The pull would not stop.
And he would not stop.
- Writer
