CHAPTER 107: FRAYING PATIENCE

Reed POV:

The damn bloodsucker wasn’t answering his phone.

And I didn’t know where she was, if she was safe, or when he was bringing her back—if at all. He was supposed to deliver her to the neutral grounds. The school was safe territory, ruled by neither vampire nor wolf. But apparently, that arrangement meant nothing if he couldn’t even bother to pick up his goddamn phone.

I don’t even want to talk about how I got his number in the first place—it was messy, humiliating, and involved groveling to an ancient council rep who thinks werewolves are nothing but glorified mutts. But I swallowed my pride because he had her. My mate.

And I needed to know she was safe.

The phone rang again. Straight to voicemail.

My grip tightened around the phone, claws threatening to pierce through the casing. "Pick up, Blaze," I growled under my breath, pacing the edge of the neutral territory like a caged animal. "Pick up before I cross this damn line and drag her out myself."

But the silence on the other end of the call was almost as loud as the thunderous snarl my wolf let out inside me.

We should have marked her.

He’s been repeating that in my head like a mantra since the moment we realized she was gone—since we sensed her fear through the fragile thread of our incomplete bond.

"I know," I muttered, raking a hand through my hair. "I know, alright? We should’ve done it. I hesitated. I didn’t want to scare her—"

She is ours. She needs us. She’s scared and alone with them. They can’t protect her like we can.

The fury in his voice nearly drowned out my thoughts, but he wasn’t wrong. If I had marked her—if we had completed the bond—I wouldn’t be here pacing like a madman. I’d feel her, deeper than this ghost of a connection. And more importantly, she’d feel me too. Know she wasn’t alone. Know that I was coming for her. I could hear her thoughts, her fears. Maybe even talk to her through the link.

Though... that part still wasn’t clear.

Would it work the same with a human?

Wolves could mind-link with ease. It was instinctive, a part of our pack magic. But a human... I didn’t know if she’d be able to hear me, or if I’d just end up howling into silence.

But I was ready to find out. Hell, I was past ready.

I hesitated.

Not because I didn’t want her—I did. More than anything.

But she was human. Fragile. Mortal. She didn’t understand what the mark meant, what mating meant in our world. How could I claim her without explaining everything? Without giving her the chance to choose?

Now, that choice was costing us both.

The first chance I get, I’m claiming her properly. Marked, mated—bonded in the oldest way our kind knows. Not just for her safety. Not just to calm the feral panic threatening to unhinge my wolf—but because it’s right. Because she is mine.

And I won’t let her stay one second longer in that den of monsters.

My wolf snarled again, pacing in my mind. The same beast that had faced down rival Alphas, torn rogues apart without hesitation, was now practically whimpering like a lost pup.

Pathetic.

But only because she wasn’t here. Because I couldn’t smell her scent on the wind. Because every moment that passed without her near felt like being skinned alive and set on fire.

Mates are supposed to make us stronger, to anchor our power, stabilize the beast inside. Yet all she did was make my wolf impulsive, reckless—lovesick.

The bond is for—to empower each other, to protect and be protected. To fight as one. But right now, all it did was make me vulnerable. Disconnected. Like there was a part of me that had been ripped out and dragged off to some bloodsucker’s den without my permission.

And worse... I could feel it.

That growing panic wasn’t mine. It wasn’t just me being paranoid. Somewhere, out there, she was scared. My wolf could feel it bleeding through the invisible threads of our bond. Thin as spider silk, but unbreakable. A pulse of terror laced with helplessness. Not overwhelming—but real.

Raw.

That’s what terrified me most.

I didn’t know if it was just my

instincts or if some part of the bond was already beginning to awaken. I hadn’t marked her yet—hell, I hadn’t even kissed her—but I knew. Just as sure as I knew my own name, I knew she was mine.

And she was in trouble.

I raked a hand through my hair and tried to breathe, but every inhale felt like swallowing fire. If she was hurt... if that vampire laid even a finger on her the wrong way...

I’d tear his fucking head off.

I didn’t care if it sparked war between us and the Nightborn clans. I didn’t care if I was supposed to be the diplomatic one, the "rational" Alpha heir who worked to keep peace on neutral lands. If he harmed my mate, I’d burn every vampire palace from here to the Blood Isles and paint the ashes with their fangs.

I had waited long enough.

The moment she was back, I wasn’t hesitating again. No more excuses. No more second-guessing. I would mark her. Fully. Make the bond complete. Then let the universe try to tear her from me again. I dare it.

She might be human, but she’s mine.

And I’ll never let her go.

I looked at the phone again, jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone.

"One more time," I muttered, dialing Blaze again. "Then I swear, I’m coming for her myself."

******

The stupid fucking leech finally picked up.

After hours of trying, after nearly smashing my phone against the wall more times than I can count, he finally answered like it was nothing. Like I hadn’t spent the entire night pacing like a rabid wolf, practically vibrating with rage and panic.

"She’s safe," he said.

"She’s sleeping."

"I’ll bring her back tomorrow."

And then—

"Don’t call me again."

Can you believe that?

The arrogant, bloodsucking asshole told me not to call again. As if I was some annoying telemarketer and not the mate of the human girl he dragged into that twisted vampire palace. He said it like I didn’t have every right to demand to know she was okay. Like she wasn’t mine. The leech had my mate in his house—surrounded by vampires—and he told me not to call him again?

I almost threw the phone. Again.

But then I sat down. Closed my eyes. Took a breath.

She’s safe. That’s all that matters.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

But no matter how many times I repeated it, no matter how hard I tried to anchor myself in those three simple words—She’s. Safe. Now.—my damn wolf wouldn’t listen.

He was still on edge. Prowling inside me, pacing like a caged beast. Whining and growling all at once. He didn’t buy the calm words Blaze had said. And deep down, neither did I.

Because I felt it.

**Earlier—**for a sharp, awful moment—I felt her fear.

Not just worry. Not just stress. No—bone-deep terror.

And I knew it wasn’t mine. I know my own fear—I’ve tasted it in battle, in grief, in regret. But this? This was hers. Her panic. Her helplessness. Her pain.

And even if she was sleeping peacefully now, that didn’t erase what had already happened. Something did. Something that made the mate bond shudder awake and slap me in the chest like a goddamn lightning strike.

The leech didn’t want to admit it. He acted like he had everything under control. But I know he didn’t. I know he failed—at least for a moment. And he just didn’t want to face it.

I don’t care how powerful he is. Or how many of his psycho vampire relatives he burned to the ground to "protect" her afterward. He should’ve kept her safe from the start.

I should’ve.

That’s what really killed me. What made my stomach twist and my claws threaten to push through my skin. If I had just marked her—just claimed her properly—none of this would’ve happened. I would’ve known exactly where she was, how she felt, what was happening to her in real-time. She would’ve had a thread of me tethered to her no matter how far she went.

And now, all I had was the fading memory of that flash of terror echoing in my chest like a ghost I couldn’t shake.

So, I did the only thing I could.

I went to her place.

To her room at the boarding house in the neutral zone. The bed she slept in before she ever laid eyes on a vampire or caught the attention of a twisted bloodsucker named Blaze. Her scent was still there—subtle, soft, familiar. Lavender and old paper. Soap and skin. Clare.

The moment I stepped inside, my wolf stilled. Not fully, but enough. He stopped clawing at my insides like he wanted to rip out my heart just to get to her.

I sat on the edge of her bed and closed my eyes, breathing in what little comfort her scent could give me. Running my hands over the sheets like a fool who couldn’t let go.

This is where she belongs.

Not in some castle surrounded by monsters.

Not in a place where her fear bleeds through the bond like poison.

Here. With me.

I will get her back.

And next time, I won’t wait.

Next time, I’ll mark her. Mate her. Complete the bond.

And let the entire damn world know:

She’s mine.