Animkii felt sick. Not only sick with worry but physically sick. Something was happening with his mate and he didn't know what but the longer they were apart, the sicker he felt.
He joined in the search as much as he could, but his body was drained of energy from the moment he rose out of bed to the time he curled up in the blankets full of her scent and their lovemaking. He couldn't sleep. Even though he was exhausted, he couldn't get his mind to stop reeling.
Hours passed. Then days. Packmates searched long and hard throughout their land and along the borders. He and his parents went to neighboring packs in search of her and asking for their assistance.
He never felt so pathetic and ashamed as he did then.
He knew. He knew all along that her life was precious and valuable to anyone who wanted to overthrow him and his parents' leadership.
When they weren't visiting neighboring packs, he and his parents interrogated males who had been puffing their chests out and acting out more aggressively. He couldn't trust a word they said and his father had to repeatedly put them in their place, but even then, they knew nothing of Madison's whereabouts.
The thought of a rogue carrying out the attack was the best answer. After reaching out to packs farther away from their borders, they requested that they allow their best hunters and trackers to pass through the narrow part between territories, referred to as "no-man's land," in hopes of picking up even a hint of her whereabouts.
Every day that passed, the sickness within him grew, festering deeper within his soul.
On the fifth day, after eleven at night, pain struck him in the groin that rose up to his lower abdomen. He gasped, fisting his ripped bedsheets from Madison's heat that still clung to the broken mattress, and gritted his teeth for the first minute before the pain slowly began to subside. Sweating profusely, he rolled off the mattress and stumbled to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet.
What the fuck just happened?
Something happened to his mate. It had to be. He knew she was still alive, still out there somewhere.
If only he could reach her...
Pain stabbed into his heart as he collapsed to his knees and sobbed against the side of the toilet.
Some sick fuck out there had his mate and was fucking her. Raping her.
And what the fuck was he doing?
Why couldn't he find her?
Dammit! Why?
***
The next day, the same thing happened at eleven o'clock at night.
And the next day. And the day after—only it happened at five o'clock and again at eleven.
Then a few days later, it was three times a day. The pain gripped him in the middle of meeting Alphas and Lunas, scouring the forest, the riverbanks, the country roads, and even the towns and cities.
Always at the same times: eleven in the morning, five o'clock in the evening, and again at eleven at night.
Sometimes the pain was most intense for only a minute before tapering off. Other times, it lasted for two or three minutes.
Pain and rage poured from his eyes. His heart couldn't bear it and when those three hours approached, he locked himself in the cabin, ready to have his body ripped apart again and his heart stomped to bits.
It never failed. Only once or twice a week did one of those hours not bring him pain but he cried anyway. Cried for his mate that he couldn't find and was racked with helplessness and shame for not being able to find her. For not doing more. For not warning her enough about the perils that lurked around her when he wasn't with her.
How fucking worthless he was for failing her in her time of need.
***
Weeks passed.
All hope was fading.
Even if he did manage to find her, would she want him now?
He failed her.
Failed to protect her.
And what of their pup?
Would he ever get to see her again?
Would he ever get to hold his pup?
Wherever she was, he prayed that she was being taken care of.
----
Dedicated to HeartStone Packmate: SillyHead - Join us on Facebook!
Copyright Jo Lee Hunt ( Joflower ) 2020