Where the broken howl

Chapter Thirteen

Lucian

A month had passed.

Thirty days since the cliffs. Thirty nights since the memory of her touch, her faint warmth, and the sparks that had flared between them. Thirty days of knowing she was out there, alone, suffering, and unreachable. The bond pulsed faintly beneath his skin, a constant reminder that she was close enough to feel yet far enough to frustrate him.

Lucian prowled the halls of his pack lands like a predator stalking invisible prey. Warriors noticed the tension in his every step, the low hum of restrained fury that clung to him like a second skin. Even his Beta and Gamma were careful, knowing instinctively when the Alpha’s patience ran thin.

Every patrol report, every scout rotation, every rogue sighting was filtered through his mind. On the surface, he was consolidating control, monitoring rogue activity, ensuring the pack’s borders remained secure. Beneath it, every thread, every anomaly, every faint scent was a potential clue leading him toward her.

The bond throbbed again, subtle yet insistent. Pain. Weakness. She was enduring something she shouldn’t have to, and he felt it keenly. A flare of helplessness swept through him, sharpened by the knowledge that she had chosen to leave him, even briefly, to protect him. Her sacrifice enraged and haunted him in equal measure.

He clenched his fists, forcing his jaw to relax. Anger and frustration were dangerous, and in his position, discipline was everything. To show weakness would invite questions. To let fury spill over could endanger her further.

Yet restraint was difficult when every nerve in his body demanded action.

⸻

Dinner arrived like a low hum around him, pack members gathering for the usual evening meal. Warriors laughed quietly, shared minor victories, and discussed patrols. Lucian sat at the head of the table, senses sharp, ears tuned to every word, every subtle shift in tone.

It was then that he heard it. A faint, casual whisper that might have gone unnoticed by anyone else.

“…did you see her? Fragile… almost human… living among them…”

Lucian froze. The words were small, almost careless, yet his wolf reacted instantly, pressing beneath his skin, coiling, straining toward the sound.

“She’s part of the pack, but… she doesn’t belong. Strange. Weak. Like she should’ve been gone long ago…”

His chest tightened. The bond pulsed again. Weak, fleeting, but undeniable. She’s near, the wolf growled in his mind. Close.

“She moves quietly, keeps to herself… almost disappears at times. I barely noticed her before.”

Even this fragment of information sent his mind racing. Three weeks of distance, and now a whisper of her presence. The subtle recognition of someone out of place, fragile yet marked, ignited a spark of hope and determination.

“…she’s just a girl. Fragile, almost human. Yet somehow… no one dares harm her too badly. Maybe it’s because of him.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. Him.

The wolf snarled beneath his ribs. She’s marked. They all know.

Dinner continued around him, but he barely noticed. The casual chatter, the laughter of warriors, the clinking of cutlery — it all became background noise. His focus was singular, sharp, precise: she was near, and someone, somewhere, had seen her.

By the time the hall emptied, Lucian remained at the head of the table, silent and immovable. The bond pulsed again, sharper this time, an echo of her suffering that made his chest ache. Her pain, her weakness, her solitude — it was all there. The tether between them had grown, demanding attention, commanding action.

He rose slowly, moving toward his private chambers, mind already racing through possibilities. Scout placements, border patrols, and the appearance of routine all needed to continue. He could not let the pack suspect the truth. His movements, his commands, everything had to be precise. To the pack, he remained the controlled Alpha, orchestrating patrols, preparing for rogue activity.

In truth, every action, every rotation, every report was part of a silent hunt.

A month of distance, of pain, of uncertainty. And now, at last, a lead — faint, indirect, but tangible.

It was enough.

Lucian’s wolf growled low, impatient, restless. The hunt had begun.

And when he finally found her, anyone who had harmed her, anyone who dared touch her or claim her, would answer to him.