7
Damien frantically searched every corner of the packhouse, his heart racing wildly. His inner wolf was restless, pushing him to locate me. He rummaged through drawers and closets, but found no trace of his mate of seven years - no scent, no belongings, nothing.
"This isn't possible," he said, his voice laced with despair.
He repeatedly dialed my number on his phone, only to be greeted by the impersonal voicemail message each time. Every failed attempt felt like a knife twisting in his gut.
In a panic, he tried to reach me through the pack's online community, only to be confronted with the devastating message: "This user is no longer connected to you."
For a brief moment, Damien doubted reality. Had our bond been a mere illusion? Was I, his mate, just a figment of his imagination? But the pain in his chest, the void where their connection once thrived, told him otherwise.