Alpha's Dark Desires
Chapter 56: A Little Rest

Chapter 56: A Little Rest

Kane POV:

The hell... I was scared. Scared shitless. And I don’t get scared. Not me. Not Alpha Kane.

But right now? With the sun dipping lower and the forest turning into a shadowy maze, my chest was tight, my breathing uneven, and my mind spiraling into places I didn’t want it to go.

I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I found her—my long-awaited mate—only to lose her.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning white. The cracks of the leather under my fingers were grounding me, barely keeping my wolf from bursting out. The anger that burned inside me wasn’t just at her stubborn defiance—it was at myself.

How the hell could I let this happen?

She had been right there. Right there. My arms had been around her, my wolf had been content, finally calm for the first time in years. And then... she was gone.

She slipped away, like sand through my fingers.

My jaw clenched as the memory hit me hard: her riding off on my bike, her scent fading, that damned smirk on her face. She had no idea what she was doing to me. No idea how close I was to losing my mind, my control.

For the first time in a long time, I felt powerless.

I’m not supposed to feel like this.

My chest burned with the weight of the mate bond. It was a constant tug, a reminder of her. Of what she meant. Of what she could be to me if she’d just stop running.

But now? Now she was out there, and I had no idea where.

The fear clawed at me, mingling with frustration and a level of desperation I wasn’t used to. She had survived death, walked away from the accident that should have taken her life. She was supposed to be safe now—with me. Protected. Cared for.

Instead, she was running from me too.

I slammed my fist into the dashboard, the crack loud in the silence of the car. My wolf growled in agreement, restless and on edge. He wanted her back just as much as I did.

I should’ve known she’d pull something like this. She was stubborn, fiery, unpredictable. But this? Disappearing into thin air, covering her scent like a damn rogue?

She was mine.

And the thought of her out there, alone, without me to keep her safe or what she might face... It was unbearable.

I slammed the car door open, stepping out into the cool evening air. My patrols were scattered, combing the forest, but so far, they’d found nothing. Not a trace. Not a clue.

"Where the fuck are you, Elena?" I muttered under my breath.

The bond tugged at me again, faint and elusive, but it was there. She was out there somewhere. My mate. My little thief. My infuriating, stubborn, impossible mate.

The fear churned in my gut, but I shoved it down.

No. I wasn’t going to lose her. Not like this.

I turned back to the forest, eyes narrowing as my wolf surged forward, ready to take over.

"She’s ours," I growled to myself, to my wolf, to anyone who would listen. "And no one—not even her—is taking her away from us."

I had shifted, letting my wolf take over completely. If anyone could find her, it would be him. His senses were sharper, his instincts stronger. But as the night stretched on and the forest remained silent, frustration built like a storm in my chest.

We searched everywhere. Sniffed every trail, checked every possible hiding spot. Nothing.

By the time dawn broke, the weight of failure sat heavy on my shoulders. My trackers, weary and dragging their feet, glanced at me hesitantly as I finally growled out the order to head home, freshen up, and rest. They needed the break. They weren’t as tied to this as I was.

But me? I couldn’t stop. My wolf wouldn’t let me stop.

Even as exhaustion clawed at me, even as my muscles ached and my paws felt like lead, I pushed on. My wolf was relentless, sniffing the ground, the trees, the air. His frustration mirrored mine, growling low every time we caught nothing but faint traces of her that led nowhere.

She was smart, I’d give her that. Covering her scent wasn’t easy, but she’d done it. And now she was out there somewhere, alone, and the thought gnawed at me.

What if she gets hurt? What if she’s in danger and I’m not there?

The morning sun climbed higher, casting dappled light through the trees, but it brought no comfort. By noon, I was barely functioning, running on pure adrenaline and the mate bond that screamed at me to keep going.

But even I had limits. My wolf snarled when I forced him to shift back, his reluctance clear as day. He didn’t want to stop. Neither did I. But we had to.

Dragging myself back to the house felt like a defeat in itself. My clothes clung to me, my skin sticky with sweat and dirt. The air-conditioning hit me as soon as I stepped inside, but it did nothing to cool the burning frustration that bubbled just under my skin.

I made my way to the bathroom, stripping down and stepping into the shower. The water was scalding hot, but I barely noticed. My mind was else where -my mate, was she fine had she eaten?

The water pounded against my skin, but it didn’t wash away the weight in my chest. My mate was out there, and I was here, showering like I didn’t have a care in the world. Guilt twisted in my gut, but I knew I needed this break. If I didn’t rest—didn’t recharge—I’d be useless to her. Still, it didn’t make it any easier.

After scrubbing myself clean, I stepped out, dried off, and threw on a pair of sweats and a plain T-shirt. My wolf was pacing in the back of my mind, restless and pissed that I wasn’t back out there already. I shoved the thoughts down, trying to ignore the ache that came with his frustration.

I trudged to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and drained it in one go. My stomach growled, but food was the last thing on my mind. The couch in the living room caught my eye as I passed through. It looked so inviting, and the exhaustion I’d been ignoring hit me like a freight train.

Just a minute, I told myself. Just sit down for a second.

I sank into the couch, the cushions swallowing me whole. My muscles immediately relaxed, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My mind was still racing, replaying every moment from the chase, every scent trail that had gone cold, every possible hiding place I might have missed.

My eyes drooped, but I fought to keep them open. I couldn’t afford to rest, not when she was out there. But my body had other plans. The next thing I knew, I was lying down, the soft fabric of the couch pulling me deeper into its embrace.

"I’ll just close my eyes for a moment," I murmured to no one, my voice slurred with fatigue.

The last thing I heard before I drifted off was the faint sound of the clock ticking on the wall and the distant hum of the air conditioning. For the first time since I’d shifted to chase her, my mind went quiet, and sleep claimed me.

But even in sleep, she haunted me. Dreams of her curses, her scent, her defiant gaze filled the darkness, and I swore I could still feel her slipping away from me, just out of reach.

In my drowsiness I opened my eyes to see her heading to the kitchen but I knew it was my mind playing a cruel joke on me.