BLACK

(41) Regrets

EDITED

-Aris-

A second Beta from Vojnica came to help Yianni. I saw very little of him and the second Beta. They were always nose deep in binders, four phones ringing at once in the office.

I didn't walk down that corridor, anymore. I barely walked anywhere within the pack anymore. As the days progressed into weeks and soon months passed, my female Beta Rayanne had suggested a funeral.

Since then my shifter paws made very little contact my packs territory. All of my time was consumed with trying to find her. Her.

Her name had been forgotten in the passing time, buried by Rayanne's wishes. She vanished once when she had been taken, but she vanished again when her name was said for the last time. Find her. Find her. Find her.

She was gone. The pack was starting to feel the effects. I had to call for help from Vojnica. They sent me Alexandros. Him and Yianni made well in the pack house, but their duties were mainly pack work. I had missed the last treaty ceremony. Though, I'm not sure anyone expected me to come.

I had ghosted, mainly. My days were long with tree branch scratches and scuffles with rogues in my path. I forced my self high and low, convinced that maybe one inch further and I could catch the slightest drag of her scent. Nothing.

I know she is alive. I would know if she was killed.

Everyday beat me further and further into the ground. I had search parties. I had alliance letters sent out. I had my soul on bargain for her return, but nothing ever comes.

I feel her anger. Every morning and night. I'm not sure how to feel about her overcoming the fear. Had she gotten used to it? Had she escaped it? My mate was rarely angry. Her storms were brutal too, one wrong step and she would swallow you up. So how was her anger thriving every day? Almost building an empire on top of itself.

Some days I would pull out my finest threads, suiting up with polished shoes. Neck down, I was presentable, respectable. Above, my expressions were grave, my hair grew wildly. How do you find time for a hair cut when your mate is missing? The Greek curls parted down the middle, scraping along the sides of my face and beard. A fine black coated silver watch made a tan line on my wrist. I only checked it for the date marker in the bottom.

The human towns stared at me. I knew it was because of the scars. The burn marks that tore down the left side of my face had swelled up again with the new scars. The white leather to the bumpy, pink wells were a painting they knew very well how to criticize. No embodiment, no story. Just splashes of colour. Not even an abstract painter could sell this.

A woman in the Bulgarian town I had visited dropped her groceries she was so frightened. Others in towns like Berlin and Amsterdam would close their doors and hide their children, whispering that the beast was hunting again.

She wasn't there, either.

She wasn't anywhere.

No in human towns, not in packs. Her absence made me hopeless. The weather began to plummet recently, the cold and rain mixing in my pelt to freeze me to death. I had no other choice but to return home for my own survival and live another day to rescue her. No scent could be tracked in the rain as the mist would fade the scent upwards. I had already called every single pack and warned them about the consequences of harboring a mate from an Alpha. Then I would have to kindly ask them to give me any information they could.

My house is a target of avoidance. It has been for several months lately. An inch of dust could have collected for all of my knowledge. Her scent is everywhere, over every square inch. The counter tops, the laundry machines. When so was there, every piece of furniture had a long strand of hair out of place just to taunt me. It made me go insane.