TYRONE
The moment my mate’s lycan, Kyra, dashed off, I didn’t think. My instincts kicked in, and I ran after her as if my life depended on it. Well, in a way, she gave my life meaning. I depended on her.
Her emotions were loud: unbearable pain, devastating anger, despairing hollowness. They coursed through me as I stormed through the hallways. I was very familiar with each one of them. To know that she was feeling that way broke me. It made the world disappear as she became my only focus.
At werewolf speed, I didn’t take long to reach the exit of the pack house. I flew through the door, shifting mid-air. Nevan had been pushing forward, flooded with concern for our mate. His paws pounded through the grass as he galloped as fast as he could. Even so, I knew we would never reach her if she
