Bound by the Blood Moon

Chapter 6 The Agonizing Search

Ronan had not slept a single hour since Layla vanished from Stormfang Castle. The mate bond between them burned like unextinguished fire beneath his skin, every sharp twinge of pain a brutal reminder that his fated mate was far beyond his reach, wandering unprotected in dangerous wild woods. He abandoned all clan conferences, dismissed every advisor who begged him to focus on pack affairs, and led a troop of elite wolf warriors to scour every inch of the surrounding forest at dawn.

Mia followed closely at his side, feigning soft worry while secretly fearing Layla would return and expose all her lies. She kept weaving fabricated words to fuel Ronan’s anger. “That half-blood ran away because she truly meant to steal our lunar relic and abandon you to the blood curse. She never cared about you, Alpha.”

Ronan’s golden eyes stayed cold and hollow, his mind tangled in conflict. Part of him clung to the fake evidence that labeled Layla a traitor, yet the beast deep inside his wolf form whimpered constantly, screaming that he had wronged his only fated mate. The curse gnawed at his vitality day by day; his strength faded rapidly, dark shadows pooling beneath his eyes, a clear sign his life was slipping away without Layla’s lunar magic.

By midday, they stumbled upon the clearing where Mia’s hunters had attacked Silverthorn wolves. Scattered bloodstains marked the grass, and faint traces of silver lunar magic lingered in the air. Ronan’s wolf nose twitched sharply as he caught Layla’s unique scent mixed with the glowing moon power he could never mistake.

“This is her magic.” His voice cracked, thick with suppressed dread. “She was here, and she unleashed the lunar power of the Moon Maiden.”

Mia’s heart skipped a beat, panic surging inside her, yet she forced a calm tone. “She only uses that strange power to harm our pack, Ronan. Do not let her tricks confuse you.”

Ronan ignored her entirely, striding forward to trace the faint silver light marks etched into tree bark. Fragments of disjointed memories flashed through his mind: Layla’s desperate denial in the dungeon, the way her eyes glistened with hurt when he sentenced her to starvation, the quiet, tormented murmur he’d spoken before locking her away. For the first time, doubt crashed over him like a tidal wave—what if he had judged her without a shred of fair trial?

The mate bond flared into unbearable agony, and he doubled over, clutching his chest. The blood curse’s erosion worsened the longer Layla stayed apart from him. If he could not find her soon, he would collapse before the next full moon arrived.

He raised his head and roared a long, grief-stricken wolf howl that echoed across every valley. He did not care about his royal pride anymore; all he craved was a chance to apologize, to make amends for the cruel punishment he had forced upon the woman fate had tied to his soul.