A Blood-Like Rain

— Kaden —

I began to panic.

We were heading to battle, but I smelled my mate. I smelled my mate!

I tried to track the direction the smell came from but it was so faint I could hardly notice it. I moved in circles half in a daze. I found a line, a line she must have been traveling, but I couldn’t tell which way she came from and which way she was going. And I tried to sniff both ways to see which seemed the strongest, the freshest.

Sam noticed my change in behaviour and got closer. When I noticed him, I raised my hand to make him stop. I was afraid his sheer presence would make me lose her scent.

It wasn’t completely irrational either as my own scent on her tracks was enough to nearly destroy what little clue I had.

I went in further.

I followed one side of the track all the way to a small stream, then I lost her. I checked all over, on the other side, everywhere. The track ended here. My best guess was she walked in the stream for a while, the water masking her scent.

I didn’t realize I had bolted in that direction, until I heard Sam running to catch up.

We were far now. The noise of my men, faint in the distance.

“What is it?” asked Sam worried.

“I found her,” I said in desperation. “I lost her.”

“Who?” he asked confused.

“My bloody mate.”

“Fuck! Now?”

“Yeah.”

“This is not a good time for this.”

“I know,” I growled in frustration.

I walked for a while, following the stream. I still couldn’t pick up her scent, so I stop.

“What now?” asked Sam.

“I go the other way,” I said.

I went back on my track. It was easier to go by the scent I just left than try and pick hers again. I went at a dead run, Sam could barely keep up.

reached the clearing again I

you

I was back to where I was when I found

we just came from to the opposite side. “This is her track. I don’t know what direction she went from but I know this side leads nowhere.” I pointed at

Sam looked back at the direction of our convoy then back at me, worried.

know,” I said. “It’s the worst timing in the world, but if I don’t give this a chance—.” I didn’t dare finish the

“I know,” he said.

catch on quickly,” I said. “I just need to know if this leads

nightfall,” he said looking at

There was time,

Just in case

“You’re going on your own?” It just dawned on him

here,” I told him.

“No one moves alone. That’s your

looked in the direction

“What if it’s a trap?” he asked.

don’t know, but I think I need to

make

I said in frustration. “Go,” I

looked like he was about to argue.

said go,” I insisted.

to defy me

phone out and waved it at him behind me. “We keep in touch.”

followed the track. After a while, the smell got a little stronger and my heart did a backflip. This was the direction she went

the highest pace I could maintain in the wood. I covered

increase in her smell and my pace, she was probably walking, which explained

not a well-traveled path. I was far in the woods and the mountain, it was hard to believe someone would travel

Sam resonated in my

this is a trap?

to get me away from civilization, from my men, from any resources or backup.

I should slow down, think about this, but my feet didn’t seem to connect with

There was now the growing sound of water. Another stream? A river? Had she walked deliberately into the water to erase her tracks? The stream had been small, easy to cross, so why risk getting her feet wet far

visible anymore, the orange glow

out of time.

my wolf eyes, my vision was getting

close, I knew it.

I suddenly stopped.

I would have sounded like an elephant to anyone with heightened senses. I slowed my trek to a walk, silent, undetectable. The wind

As I got closer to the river, the forest cleared, the wind pick up speed, and I smelled her just before I could see her.

There was this light exotic flower smell again, but it was richer now, softer, it reminded me of playing in the dead colourful maple leaf on the autumn ground as a child, of the feeling of strawberry juices running on your tongue, of a stormy night of April, of a warm blanket in front of a

at the edge of my vision, but I