[POV: Evan]
* One week ago *
I hadn’t slept properly since Atlas left.
Didn’t matter where I was or what I was doing—he lingered. In every silence, in every breath, in every place he used to be. His absence clung to the pack like mist that refused to lift.
Sometimes I saw him in the trees when I was patrolling. Just for a second. A flicker of silver-blonde hair, a shimmer of moonlight on skin.
Always gone the moment I turned my head.
Sometimes I heard his voice in my sleep—soft, unsure, always trying to make himself smaller. And worst of all, sometimes I remembered that moment.
When he found out about us. Me. Dominic. Together.
The look in Atlas’s eyes haunts me more than any wound ever could. It wasn’t just a shock. It wasn’t even a heartbreak.
It was betrayal. Raw. Utter. Final.
Because I’d been the last one he trusted. And I’d broken him. I wish I could blame Cyrus for it—for that night, for the decisions I made.
But the truth is, I let it happen.
Cyrus—my wolf—he always wanted Dominic. He liked his power, his fire. He matched his hunger, his cruelty. He fed something in both of us that I’d never even known was starving.
And Dominic didn’t just want me. He claimed me. Body, mind, position. He knew what he wanted, and he took it.
With Atlas, it was never like that. He didn’t take. He only gave.
Quietly. Completely. He made me feel steady, like I didn’t have to be perfect to be wanted. Like I could just be.
And I gave that up—for status, for heat, for the thrill of Dominic’s approval and my father’s pride.
I made my choice. And I hate myself for it. Because ever since Atlas left, I haven’t known peace.
Not even when I lie beside Dominic, his hand on my chest, his breath warm on my neck.
Not when I stand in front of my father, sword in hand, proving I’m the Alpha he wanted me to become.
Not when the pack looks at me like I’ve already won. Because in all of it—every second—Atlas’s ghost walks beside me.
I told myself I’d make it right.
When I become Beta, I’ll protect him. I’ll bring him home. I’ll shield him from the twisted games of his family. From Dominic. From the poison that rots Midnight Crest from the inside.
It’s the least I owe him. It’s all I have left.
That’s why I started going out on patrol alone.
I told the others I needed space. Time to clear my head. No one questioned it—not when Dominic whispers into ears and keeps suspicions in check.
The truth was… I kept hoping I’d find him.
That I’d catch a trace of his scent. A sign he hadn’t gone too far. That maybe he was out there, scared but safe, waiting for someone—me—to bring him back.
Today was no different.
I wandered past the northern edge of our borders, where the trees grew closer together and the light filtered through in long, golden strips. It was quiet out there. Peaceful. Like how things used to feel when Atlas and I would sneak out here as kids.
I didn’t realize how far I’d gone until the air shifted.
The scents changed.
I stopped cold, every nerve going alert. This wasn’t our land anymore. I’d crossed over. Just a few steps—but enough to matter. My body tensed. I started to turn back.
And then I caught it. The wind shifted again, and it hit me so fast, so sharp, I forgot to breathe.
Pine. Snowdrops. Faint, but real.
Him.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “Atlas…”
It was him. I knew it.
No perfume could mimic that. No memory could trick my wolf the way this scent gripped us both. Even Cyrus stilled, ears pricked, instinct rising.
He’d been here. Recently.
Every instinct screamed at me to run toward it. To follow. To find him.
But this wasn’t our territory. This wasn’t safe. Whoever owned this land wouldn’t take kindly to a Midnight Crest wolf crossing the line.
Yet my thoughts spun wildly.
He’s alive. He’s close. I could find him.