“She… she must still be here. She might be in the water.” Aaron’s voice trembled, his words barely a whisper as he tried to hold onto hope.
“She… she might still make it,” he added, though the weight of those words was hollow. He was heartbroken, and the flicker of hope in his voice was fading fast, replaced by the painful reality. His eyes scanned the water, desperately trying to find any sign of her. Ellie—his sister in every way that mattered, even if not by blood. He loved her as his own, and now, she was gone. Or at least, that’s what he feared.
But the water remained still, save for the soft ripples created by the night breeze, shimmering beneath the silver light of the moon. No sign of her. No sign of life. It was as if she had never been here at all.
“Please…” he whispered, his voice breaking as it trailed off, swallowed by the vast silence around him. His heart was already grieving, mourning for a sister who might never come back.
There was no way a human could survive that kind of fall. Even if she had landed in the water, the impact would have been too much. If only she had been a wolf…
“Can you still smell her?” Victor’s voice was strained, as if he, too, was clinging to some small sliver of hope.
Aaron swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it nearly impossible to speak. He closed his eyes, trying to gather the strength to sniff the air, but when he did, there was nothing. The scent was gone. The rose-scented trail that had once been so familiar—so comforting—was no longer there.
His heart dropped. She must have been swept away in the river. Or worse, she could be at the bottom, lost forever. He stood frozen, staring at the moonlit water, praying for a miracle. Wishing that somehow, she would emerge, laughing and teasing him for falling for her pranks, the ones she used to pull back home when everything felt easier.
“Ellie!” he called out, though his voice felt weak, almost useless against the vast emptiness surrounding them.
“Ellie… please,” he sobbed, his words barely audible. “Come back.” Chapter 4 His voice softened, turning into a whisper as he stood there, helpless. Lydia and Mira were already fighting their own tears. They clung to each other for support, both doing their best to hold back the sobs that threatened to break through.
Damian, too, sniffed the air. His heart raced. She was his mate, after all. The bond was broken, but the connection still lingered, faint as it was. He could sense her—he was sure of it—but the scent was weak. His eyes narrowed, his steps slow as he walked along the riverbank, following the fading trace of her smell. He could feel it growing fainter with every step.
Then it was gone.
The soft, alluring scent of roses that had once filled his senses was no longer there. Damian froze. His breath hitched as a wave of deep regret crashed over him. But it wasn’t because he had rejected her. It wasn’t because he had pushed her away.
No, it was because he feared what his father would think if he ever found out. He feared being disowned, losing the pack, losing everything he had worked for. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now, not when he was on the brink of taking over.
He scanned the trees, his eyes darting back to the water, but he already knew. She wasn’t here. She was gone, and perhaps it was his fault. His heart pounded with guilt, and he could feel sweat forming on his brow, but he wiped it away quickly, trying to convince himself. No, he told himself, it’s not my fault.
She was weak. She was pathetic. She didn’t have to jump off that cliff just because I rejected her. She was human, for fuck’s sake. How could she understand the pain of rejection? She was just being too sensitive.
He took a deep breath, swallowing his insecurities, forcing himself to calm down. It’s not my fault, he told himself again. It was her, not me.
Damian slowly turned around to find Aaron still holding the shoe they had found—the only trace of Ellie left behind. Aaron’s face was a picture of agony as he silently cried, clutching the shoe like it was the only piece of her he had left. Victor was trying his best to console him, but there was nothing anyone could say. Lydia and Mira, their faces streaked with tears, stood close, unable to look away from the broken man they once knew as strong.
Damian walked over to them slowly, his heart heavy, unsure of what to say.
“What now?” he asked quietly, his voice strained.
An uncomfortable silence fell over them. No one spoke. The only sound was the shallow gasps of their breaths as they tried to hold back the overwhelming tide of grief.
“I…” Aaron began, his voice thick with emotion. He gulped, but his words were lost as he stared at the river. There was still a glimmer of hope in his eyes, a part of him that couldn’t let go of the belief that she was out there, alive. That somehow, this was all just a bad dream. That it was one of her pranks.
But it wasn’t. She was gone.
Without a word, Aaron stepped back, shifting into his dark brown wolf without caring about the clothes that ripped off as he did. He didn’t care. He was too far gone, too consumed with grief. When the transformation was complete, he raised his head to the sky and let out a heart-wrenching howl. A howl of agony, of loss. A howl that spoke of pain deeper than anything physical.
Mira and Lydia followed suit, their howls joining Aaron’s, filling the air with their sorrow. Their cries echoed in the night, reaching the ears of Aaron’s parents, who had been waiting anxiously on the cliff. When they heard the howls, Aaron’s mother’s face crumpled with grief. Her eyes widened, terror and heartbreak filling them as she understood.
Her daughter was gone.
Aaron’s father, too, knew what the howls meant. His heart sank into an abyss of hopelessness, and in that moment, it felt as though the world had come to a stop.
She was gone.
The group of youngsters returned, their faces a mix of sorrow and disbelief as they held up what they had found—Ellie’s shoe. The moment Aaron, in his wolf form, saw it, he turned and went straight home, avoiding the crowd, not wanting to talk, nor celebrate. Mira and Lydia, too, quietly made their way to their homes, their faces reflecting the same grief. This left Damian, reluctantly, with the task of delivering Ellie’s shoe to her parents.
Damian watched them carefully, their faces contorting in anguish as they laid eyes on the small, yet poignant piece of Ellie’s life. The shoe. A final symbol of her existence, now the only tangible thing they had left to hold on to. The sound of Mrs. Harris’ cries echoed into the night, a sorrow so deep it reverberated through the very air. Damian could barely bear to listen as she clutched the shoe to her chest, her wails a reflection of the heartache that consumed her.
It was agonizing. He couldn’t even begin to understand the weight of her grief, but watching it unfold before him, he knew it was the kind of loss that no parent should ever have to face. It was devastating, heartbreaking.
But she isn’t even her real daughter, Damian thought bitterly, his mind unwillingly drifting to that thought. But still, it was clear they loved her as if she were.
“I… I’ll leave now, Mr. and Mrs. Harris.” Damian spoke softly, his head bowed in respect, his heart heavy. “My father must be aware of what happened…”
Mr. Harris nodded slowly, gratitude mixed with the despair in his eyes. “Yes, please inform him, young Alpha.”
Damian’s lips pressed into a thin line. The words felt inadequate—nothing he could say would ease their pain. His gaze lingered on the grieving couple for a moment longer before he finally spoke again, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth.
“We… we must still try to search for…”
“For her body,” Mr. Harris finished, his voice thick with emotion.
“I’m sorry.” Damian murmured again, his voice barely audible as he turned and walked away, Victor trailing silently behind him
