His Delicate Love

26

A few days had passed, and Killian's frustration had only grown. Annie's continued distance gnawed at him, and with each passing day, he felt her slipping further away. Her smiles were softer, her touch hesitant, and no matter how much he reassured her, something was still wrong. It felt like a wall had been built between them, and he didn't know how to break it down.

That morning, as he entered the barracks, his patience had finally run out. His mind raced with thoughts of Annie, of the way she had been pulling away from him. The uncertainty was eating him alive. Growling under his breath, he slammed his fist into a punching bag, the force of the blow sending it swinging violently. The impact did little to ease the storm brewing inside him.

He growled again, punching the bag harder, his muscles tensing as he put all his frustration into the training. The warriors around him kept their distance, sensing the dangerous energy radiating off their Beta. They had seen Killian angry before, but this felt different—like a raw nerve had been exposed, and anything could set him off.

Killian gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead as he landed punch after punch. *What the hell is happening?* he thought to himself. *Why is she acting like this?* He knew there was something she wasn't telling him, and it was driving him mad.

The bag swung back, and with a fierce growl, Killian launched a kick into it, his body fully immersed in the rage he was trying to suppress. His inner wolf growled along with him, the need to protect and fix what was broken rising within him. But how could he protect Annie when she wouldn't even tell him what was wrong?

His hands stung from the impact, but he didn't stop, his breath coming out in harsh pants. *She's mine,* he thought, the possessiveness burning through him. *I can't lose her like this.*

He knew he needed to talk to her, to confront whatever it was that had come between them. But the fear of pushing her further away kept holding him back. He slammed his fist into the bag again, feeling the leather strain under the pressure.

One of the warriors approached cautiously, sensing the tension. "Killian, you alright, man?" the young soldier asked hesitantly, his eyes flicking to the battered bag.

Killian growled softly, his eyes dark and wild. "I'm fine," he snapped, though the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The warrior nodded quickly and backed off, leaving Killian to his own battle with his emotions. As he stared at the swaying punching bag, the image of Annie's distant gaze filled his mind. He couldn't keep going on like this, pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.

*Enough,* Killian thought to himself, his jaw clenched. He needed answers.

————-

Killian stormed through the pack's territory, panic rising with each passing second. "Annie! Annie!" he called, his voice growing more frantic with each breath. He had searched their cabin, the field, and the usual places she might be, but she was nowhere to be found. His heart raced, each beat more frantic than the last, his mind spiraling into a dark place.

*I lost her again... not again,* his thoughts screamed, the fear of something terrible happening to Annie consuming him. His breaths grew shallow, his chest tightening as if he couldn't get enough air. "Annie! Annie!" he kept calling, but the silence that followed his cries only deepened the panic.

His world felt like it was closing in on him, his protective instincts screaming that she was in danger. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, only the pounding fear and the echoes of her name reverberating in his mind.

Suddenly, his legs gave out beneath him, his vision swimming as his chest heaved uncontrollably. His breathing came in short, sharp bursts, his heart hammering in his ears. "Annie..." he whispered weakly, the world around him beginning to blur.