[POV: Evan]
The deeper I pushed into the forest, the louder my heartbeat became.
Each step was a gamble. A risk I shouldn't have taken. I was in another pack’s territory—enemy land, by all accounts—and if I was caught, I’d be more than trespassing.
I’d be threatening the very balance between Midnight Crest and whoever ruled these trees. But none of that mattered. Because I knew that scent. His scent.
Pine needles crushed under my paws as I moved, slower now, careful, every nerve lit like a live wire. My senses reached ahead of me, desperate to catch it again.
What if I was wrong? What if I was chasing ghosts?
What if I’d finally gone too far—tipped over the edge from guilt into full-blown delusion?
But then… between the trees, he appeared.
I stopped breathing.
He crouched low, barefoot, a sleeves of soft nightshirt rushing the ground. His silver-blonde hair fell on his forehead, catching light like strands of frost.
He was inspecting something in the leaves—completely unaware of me, his focus somewhere else, somewhere quiet. For a second, I didn’t believe he was real.
He looked so delicate at that moment. Not broken. Not bitter. Just… Atlas.
And then he turned—and froze.
His eyes locked onto me, wide with recognition and disbelief. His whole body went rigid, as if ready to bolt. There was no warmth in his face. No joy. Just pure, startled caution.
He didn’t know me. Not at first. That stung more than anything else ever had.
I shifted back quickly, hands raised slightly to show I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t want him to feel cornered. Not by me. Not ever again.
“It’s me,” I said softly. “Atlas.”
He didn’t speak. I took a step forward.
“Listen, I… I’m sorry,” I said, my voice tight with breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I know I shouldn’t be here.”
Still, he didn’t move. But he didn’t run either.
“I smelled you,” I continued, “on the wind. I wasn’t even expecting to find you today, but when I did—Atlas… I couldn’t walk away. Not without seeing you. Not without knowing you were okay.”
His voice, when it came, was cold steel wrapped in silk. “You shouldn’t be on this land. If the patrols find you, they’ll drag you straight to their Alpha. And he won’t ask questions before deciding what to do with you.”
I nodded. “I know. But I had to see you.”
I told him everything. How I’d searched for him. How I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t train. Couldn’t lie beside Dominic without thinking of the moment I shattered Atlas completely. How every step I took inside our old pack house felt wrong without him there.
“Why are you here?” I asked gently. “And what is this place?”
His jaw tightened, but he answered. “This is Crimson Fang territory. They took me in.”
I closed my eyes. Crimson Fang. Of course. The most brutal, most dangerous pack in the region… and yet, they’d given him shelter when we hadn’t even given him humanity.
It hurt. But it also made sense. They hadn’t seen him as disposable.
“I want you to come home,” I said, almost whispering. “I want to fix things. I want to protect you. I’ll stand between you and everyone—Dominic, my father, your family, all of them. I’ll make them answer for what they did.”
He shook his head, his voice sharper this time. “I don’t want to be protected. I want to be left alone.”
“Please—”
“I don’t miss you,” he said, cutting me off. His eyes were hard now. “I don’t miss any of you. That place? It was never home. There’s nothing there for me. No one.”
His words gutted me.
But I didn’t argue. I’d already said too much. Taken too much.
“I understand,” I whispered. “But if you can’t come back… will you at least let me see you? Sometimes. Just at the border. I won’t ask for more. I just… need to know you’re alive. That you’re okay.”
He didn’t answer right away. Then he turned to leave. And something inside me shattered.
Without thinking, I reached forward and caught his wrist—not hard, not to stop him, just enough to feel him, to prove he was still real.
He flinched, but didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his shoulder. “For all of it. For not choosing you. For not protecting you. For being weak when it mattered.”
My hands trembled as I wrapped my arms around him from behind, holding him like he might vanish again.
“You were always important to me, Atlas. I just… didn’t know how to show it. Not then. But I see it now. I see you. And I don’t want to lose you. Not completely. Please. Let me hold on to something.”
He didn’t return the embrace. But he didn’t push me away either.
His voice came low, quiet, and resolute. “I’ll think about it.”
Then he pulled free and walked back toward the trees. I didn’t stop him. I just watched him disappear—again. But he hadn’t said no.
And for now, that was enough to keep me breathing.