SAVAGE BONDS

On the Run

Damon’s POV:

The salty air stings, yet it ignites a fire. Every gust carries a whisper of Isla, gone but not forgotten. The sand flies beneath my paws as my wolf tears through the seaside forest. The forest feels oddly empty.

My Father’s words echo, *"And you claim you don't know where she went?"* He never saw the pain, the yearning for a life of her own.

Grief aches, anger burns. My wolf couldn't protect her.

The familiar path is etched in my wolf’s mind, a route once shared. We'd race through these woods, the wind whipping through our fur, our laughter echoing through the trees. Those memories, beautiful and sharp, twist in the wound of my twin’s absence.

The spot where she disappeared… It is a small clearing overlooking the crashing waves. Now, it’s just an empty space, haunted by the ghost of her laughter and the lingering scent of her sorrow.

My pace quickens. The trees blur, the sounds of the forest a dull roar in my ears. I burst from the treeline, the ocean stretching before, vast and uncaring.

The clearing is empty. The silence is deafening. My wolf sinks to his knees, the scent of her strong here, bittersweet and heartbreaking.

The anger surges. *Who took her? The uncertainty is a torment.*

My wolf howls, a long, mournful cry, a desperate plea to the wind. *Isla! Where are you?*

Then, a faint scent. It’s coming from the cliff face, a subtle fissure hidden amongst the rocks. My wolf crawls closer and sees it – a narrow opening. It’s a hidden cave.

Hope flickers. My wolf’s instincts scream of both danger and possibility. The scent is faint, but it’s her, mixed with something else. The journey has just begun.