The den was cold.

Theron stirred, eyes fluttering open. The moonlight had faded, replaced by that dull, grey pre-dawn silence. He reached a hand out — instinctively, blindly — to the other side of the bed.

Empty.

Still warm, but empty.

He sat up sharply, white hair falling into his eyes. His hand lingered on the mattress for half a second longer. Then he stood.

"Aiden?"

No answer. Just the soft creak of wood and the faint whistle of wind outside.

Theron stepped out of the bed barefoot, muscles tense under his shirt. His sharp eyes scanned the room once, then again. Aiden's shoes were still there. His hoodie too.

His scent... faint. Old. Gone.

The usually calm, calculating Alpha King frowned. He walked briskly through the den, senses on high alert. No guards had noticed Aiden leave. That was impossible. Or it should've been.

Theron's bare feet hit the stairs without hesitation, and when he reached the door, he threw it open.

"WHERE is he?" he barked at the closest guard, voice a whip of command.

The warrior beta flinched. "H-he hasn't passed the gate, my King. We thought he was with—""You thought wrong."

His voice was low. Deadly.

Panic wasn't a thing that visited Theron often. He ruled with cold composure and unwavering authority. But right now? The hollow feeling in his chest wasn't just concern. It was fear.Because Aiden never slipped out without a word. Not anymore.

Theron stalked into the yard, lifting his nose to the air. It was faint, but the scent trail was there. Wild. Uncontrolled. Desperate.

The forest.

Without waiting, he shifted — not fully. Just enough to elongate limbs, sharpen eyes, quicken steps.

He ran, it was only after minutes of chasing scent and wind that he caught it — a second smell. The edge of the cliff.

His heart tightened.

He crested the rise, and there — silhouetted against the early dawn — sat Aiden, curled like a black shadow at the cliff's edge. Safe. Asleep. Vulnerable.

Theron stopped.

He didn't speak. Just... stood there. Staring. His chest rose and fell with a shudder. A breath he hadn't realized he was holding escaped.

"...You reckless idiot," he whispered into the wind. He stepped forward.

Theron approached quietly, his steps soft against the dew-covered grass. Aiden lay curled in his wolf form, the black of his fur blending into the shadows like smoke. If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, Theron might've thought...

He clenched his jaw.

The wind tugged at his hair, cold against his bare arms. He sat down a short distance away, not touching, not speaking. Just watching.

What was he dreaming of?

His ears twitched slightly in his sleep, nose scrunching, and for a moment he looked impossibly young. Vulnerable. Not the reckless half-shifted fighter who bared his teeth at betas. Not the growling, guarded mess of grief and confusion he carried in his waking hours.

Just Aiden.

And for a reason Theron didn't want to name, his chest ached.

Aiden stirred.

It was slow — a twitch of a paw, a faint whimper in the back of his throat. Then he moved, ears flattening as he began to wake. Wolf eyes blinked open, dazed and slow. He lifted his head, confused for a second before instinct kicked in. He spotted Theron and shot upright, fur bristling slightly.

"Relax," Theron said calmly, though his voice was sharper than intended. "If I wanted to drag you back by your tail, I'd have done it already."

Aiden didn't shift right away. He stood, shook himself out, then gradually let the transformation slide back into human skin. His clothes came back partially—magic clinging enough to cover him in shorts and his usual black tank—but his hair was mussed, and his eyes still wild.

"You followed me," he said hoarsely.

Theron raised a brow. "You think I wouldn't?" Aiden looked away. "Didn't think you'd notice."That did it.

Theron stood abruptly. "I always notice when you're not next to me."

Aiden flinched, not from fear, but from the weight behind the words. Theron wasn't shouting, but his voice held power. Depth. The kind that split open something raw.

"I'm not some pup you have to track down like a runaway," Aiden said quietly, but there was something defensive in his posture. "I just needed space."

"You could've told me."

"You were asleep."

"I don't sleep that deep," Theron shot back. "You know damn well I'd have woken if you touched me. If you whispered. If you breathed a little louder."

Aiden didn't answer.

Theron exhaled through his nose, stepping closer. His voice softened. "You don't have to vanish every time your chest gets tight."

Aiden's eyes flicked up to his, conflicted. "It's easier. Running."

"I know," Theron murmured, standing just a few inches from him now. "But easier isn't safer. And it's sure as hell not fair — not to you, not to me."

Aiden's lips parted, but whatever he was going to say got lost somewhere between his ribs and throat.

Theron reached out, hesitant at first, then steady. He rested a hand on Aiden's jaw, thumb brushing beneath his eye.

"You scared me."

Aiden's breath hitched. "You don't scare easy."

"Exactly."

They stood like that for a long moment, silence stretching thin between the trees and the cliff and the rising sun in the distance. Then, finally, Aiden leaned into the touch—just slightly."I'm sorry," he whispered.

Theron nodded. "Next time... wake me." Aiden gave a faint, tired smile. "Next time."

They didn't speak again as they sat together at the edge of the cliff, the bond between them pulsing like a quiet heartbeat. Not healed. Not perfect. But... alive.And that was enough—for now.