Chapter 4 DAMON MISSING

POV - Hazel

“Let’s not panic, ok?” My voice is steadier than I feel, each word a deliberate anchor as I meet Meera’s glassy eyes and Derek’s taut jaw. “He might just be doing something and has his mind block on. We’ll start a search now, and we’ll display all the warriors available,” I encourage, trying to sooth both Meera and Derek; but the truth is, I also have a very bad feeling about this deep in my gut, I just hope I am wrong about it. This pack can’t take another loss like this.

Meera’s hands tremble at her sides. “Hazel, I know something is wrong, I just know.”

Derek’s jaw tightens further, his wolf’s restlessness radiating off him in waves.

“Meera, what time did Damon take off His voice is sharp with urgency, already reaching for his phone. “I’ll call my contacts at the precinct—they can pull camera feeds from the pack’s perimeter and the highway into the city.”

“Around 5:30 p.m., I think.” Meera’s voice cracks.

“Ok, then, while you get in touch with your contact, I’ll gather a team. We can head out first, and check the area which takes to the city,” I say earnestly, wanting to get started with the search immediately. Every second Damon’s missing feels like a countdown. I can’t bear the thought of Meera losing her mate, not when they’d only just started their life together.

“I’m coming with you!” Meera says decisively. I nodded my approval, knowing how difficult it would be for her to stay here waiting and imagining the worst.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re sprinting through the forest, our wolf forms sleek and powerful. Fur ripples in the twilight breeze, noses flaring at the scent of pine and damp earth, ears pricked for the faintest sound of distress. But there’s no trace of Damon—no familiar musk of his wolf, no hint of his cologne, nothing but the endless hush of the woods.

We cover the main highway, nosing along the asphalt for tracks, then fan out into the surrounding underbrush. Thirty minutes pass, each second stretching into an eternity, when a faint rustle cuts through the silence. Every muscle in my body locks. Fur bristles along my spine, fangs bared, as we circle the bush—ready to tear into whatever threat awaits.

But what steps out isn’t an enemy. It’s Damon.

His human form staggers forward, clothes torn, face ashen, eyes wide with shock. Meera’s wolf lets out a whimper, and she’s mid-shift—bones cracking, skin stretching—when I plant myself in front of her, growling low in my throat.

“Stay,” I snarl, Alpha authority dripping from the command. Meera freezes, half-wolf, half-human, tears streaming down her cheeks. I don’t blame her—my own heart aches to comfort him—but we can’t be careless. Not after Alice, not after Cindy. Both had been injected with Lacroix’s mind-control serum, turned into weapons against us.

"Everyone back," I mind-link the warriors. They hesitate, but my tone leaves no room for debate. I take slow, cautious steps toward Damon, my wolf’s gaze locked on his. He doesn’t move—doesn’t bare his teeth, doesn’t lunge—just stares at me, his breathing ragged.

“Luna, Alpha won’t be happy knowing that you are putting yourself at risk, let us help,” our new Delta suggested.

“Don’t worry, Damon won’t be able to hurt me; I just need to make sure that he hasn’t been manipulated,” I wanted to add, like Alice, but it would hurt to link those words out loud.

I stop a meter away from him, close enough to smell the sweat and fear on his skin, close enough to react if he snaps. “What happened, Damon?” I mind-link, softening my tone. No accusations—just concern.

“I am not sure,” he replies, a little defeated, “I went out to reach you and Derek, but I didn’t make it far before I started feeling weak, I guess I fainted, because I woke up much later on the side of the road, in the same spot I blacked out. I felt weak and exhausted, wasn’t able to shift, so here I am walking home on two legs. I honestly don’t know what happened to me.” His voice is hollow, defeated.

My blood runs cold. Werewolves don’t faint. Our healing factor fights off illnesses, our bodies are built to withstand exhaustion. Whatever happened to him wasn’t natural. Poison? A new variant of Lacroix’s serum?

“Andrew,” I link our Delta forward, “please, take a couple of men and help Damon get back to the packhouse. He’ll stay in the infirmary for now, we need Doctor Simons to run some tests first. I have already mind-linked her, she’ll wait for you there”.

“Yes, Luna.”

He immediately shifts into his human form and takes Damon into custody, and with three other warriors starts walking towards the pack grounds.

“No, Hazel, please! Damon could never betray you! He’s not a traitor!” Meera howls desperately, still unable to move.

“I know Meera, he would never betray our pack, not intentionally, at least. But we can’t deny that something could have happened to him while he was unconscious. We must be sure that he’s ok. For him and for us.” I say, stepping toward her, releasing the command that bound her.

Meera’s shoulders slump, tears falling harder. She knows I’m right, but it doesn’t stop the pain in her eyes. “Let’s go,” I murmur, placing a hand on her arm. “We’ll wait for the results together.”

…

The infirmary’s lights are harsh, casting stark shadows on the white walls. Derek’s voice booms as we enter, sharp with frustration. “You must’ve noticed something, Damon! A scent? A prick? Anything?”

“No, no one.”

“Did you feel something prickle your skin? Like a needle, a dart, or something similar?”

“I’m sorry, man.” Damon’s voice is quiet, worn. “I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t remember a thing.”

Derek sighs, the sound heavy with defeat. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you; it’s just that I don’t want anything to happen to you or anyone in the pack. And this thing that happened here, has Lacroix Pharmaceuticals stamped all over it. I thought their company had been dismantled, but maybe someone else took over and is carrying on their research, or their vendetta.”

I open the door to the infirmary, and my gaze immediately finds Derek, seated on the chair in the corner, with his head in his hands. I don’t need the waves of anxiety and anger coming from the mate bond to know how he’s feeling. The tension in his muscles and the way he’s gritting his teeth says everything in itself.

I start massaging his shoulders, feeling his muscles relax a little under my touch; it’s empowering to know how much influence I have over him, although I am very aware that it works both ways.

Meera’s curled into Damon’s side, her head on his chest, whispering to him. Their bond hums with worry, a low thrum I can almost hear. I look away, my chest tight. They deserve peace—we all do. But peace feels like a distant dream.

“Did you get the camera footage?” I ask Derek, trying to get a full picture of the situation.

He shakes his head. “No, the recordings have been wiped out before I could get my hands on them, which means, that something really happened there, and that someone powerful is at work against us.”

A knock on the door makes me jump, and Derek chuckles softly. “Easy, scaredy cat. It’s just Doc.”

I roll my eyes, but my heart’s still racing as Doctor Simons steps in, clipboard in hand. Her expression is grave—no smile, no reassurance. “All tests are negative,” she says, her voice cutting through the silence. “No poison, no trace of the Lacroix serum, no tracking devices. Physically, Damon’s fine.”

This is both good news and bad news, good because no harm seems to have come to him, bad because we know for sure that something has happened, but we don’t know what exactly, and sooner or later it will come to bite us in the ass. Probably sooner rather than later.

Suddenly I have this overwhelming feeling that everything is out of our control, and it scares me. I thought we were doing fine, that we could finally have a moment of peace to ourselves, but this new attack only shows me that I was kidding myself all along, we were never safe, and we will never be.

“I need a minute,” I mumble, turning toward the door, not looking anyone in the eye. My throat feels tight, my vision blurring. I can’t fall apart—not here, not in front of the pack. I need air, need to regain control before the panic consumes me.

I feel footsteps behind me, and I know it’s Derek, most likely alarmed by the cocktail of feelings he’s getting through the mate bond.

When we’re outside, he pulls me close, his hand rubbing circles on my back. The night air is cool on my face, and I inhale deeply, trying to steady my breathing.

“Looks like we have some butts to kick, Luna?” he says, his voice warm with affection.

I laugh—a sharp, hysterical sound that bubbles out of me despite the fear. Derek joins in, and for a moment, we’re just Hazel and Derek, not Alpha and Luna, not soldiers in a never-ending war. We’re two people, laughing in the dark, clinging to each other as the world threatens to unravel around us.

The pack members passing by give us odd looks, but I don’t care. For now, this is enough—his arms around me, the sound of his laugh, the faint hope that we’ll find answers before it’s too late.