Chapter 49 Chapter 49

Chapter 49 Chapter 49
Stetson reached for her in his sleep.
His arm moved first, muscle memory guiding it across the bed, fingers curling instinctively as if they already knew what they would find—warm skin, soft breath, the quiet weight of Zarlia pressed into his side.
His hand closed on emptiness. The sheets were cold.
Not just cool from the night air—cold in a way that told him they had been empty for too long.
His eyes snapped open.
For a moment he lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening. The house breathed around him—timbers settling, distant wind brushing against stone—but there was no second heartbeat, no quiet rustle of movement, no scent of her clinging to the air the way it always did.
“Zarlia,” he murmured.
The name felt wrong in the silence.
He sat up, scanning the room. Her pillow was untouched. Her side of the bed perfectly smooth, like it had never been slept in at all. A slow, familiar dread coiled in his gut, tightening with every breath he took.
She’d left.
No. Not yet. Not without telling him.
She always told him.
He shoved the thought away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. She’s in the shower, he told himself. Or downstairs. Or standing by the window again, staring at the world like it might suddenly make sense if she looked hard enough.
He pulled on a shirt and left the room, his steps quickening as he moved through the house.
The hallway was empty.
The bathroom light was off.
Her door to the closet stood open—and her suitcase was gone.The world tilted.
Stetson took the stairs two at a time, heart slamming against his ribs. The kitchen greeted him with morning light and unbearable normalcy. Clean counters. Chairs pushed in. No trace of her laughter, her careless presence, her quiet hum when she thought no one was listening.
“Zarlia?” His voice rose this time, sharp with urgency.
Nothing answered. Panic hit him like a physical blow.
He turned in a slow circle, eyes catching on small things—her mug missing from the shelf, the coat she liked to steal from him gone from the hook by the door. Each absence cut deeper than the last.
“She wouldn’t,” he muttered, hands clenching into fists. “She wouldn’t leave.” But his chest already knew the truth.
He found Luke in the hall, lacing his boots, and Mimi at the table, pale and quiet.
“Where is she?” Stetson demanded.
Luke looked up, surprise flickering across his face. “She didn’t tell you?”
The words landed like a knife. Mimi frowned. “Tell him what?”
Stetson felt his pulse in his throat. “Where. Is. Zarlia.”
Luke straightened slowly. “She left early. I assumed—”
“You assumed wrong.” Stetson’s claws scraped painfully beneath his skin. “She didn’t say anything to me.”
Mimi’s breath hitched. “Left… how?”
Stetson didn’t answer. He was already moving, checking doors, the driveway, the garage. Her scent lingered faintly, diluted and fading, like a ghost already slipping away.
“She ran,” Mimi whispered.
“No.” The word tore out of him. “She promised she wouldn’t.”Luke was already grabbing his jacket. “I’ll find her.”
“You will,” Stetson growled. “You’ll search everywhere. Airports. Roads. Hospitals. I don’t care how far—”
Luke nodded once and disappeared.
Stetson stood there, breathing hard, surrounded by the space she left behind.

Zarlia sat in the airport, her heels drumming against the tiled floor, waiting for Caroline to come back before she regrets her decision to leave.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the scaredy-cat”, came a familiar voice. Zarlia turned to see Stacy sitting beside her, legs crossed like she knew this was going to happen. 
“Miss Stacy-“ Zarlia swallowed, was she here to hurt her? Obviously she would have figured out that she was Stetson’s mate by now.
“I just want to make things clear for you”, Stacy cut her off, “Now that you’ve decided to leave -don’t ever come back. You can call me if you need any kind of support. Just don’t ever come back” Zarlia blinked at the card Stacy handed to her, taking it hesitantly.
“But i-“ Zarlia was cut off again, “If you do come back, I would have no choice but to kill you” Stacy made sure to emphasizeit by showing off her long canines. 
With that, she stood up and left before Zarlia could say anything.
..........
The plane smelled of recycled air and metal.
Zarlia sat rigid in her seat, hands folded tightly in her lap, staring out the window as if the ground below might reach up and drag her back. Caroline sat beside her, close, steady, a constant presence she didn’t have to explain herself to.
The engines roared to life and Zarlia’s breath caught.
“This doesn’t feel real,” she whispered. Caroline squeezed her hand. “That’s because you haven’t let yourself feel it yet.”
Her throat burned. “If I feel it, I won’t be able to do this.”
The plane began to move. With every inch forward, something inside her screamed. She pressed a hand to her stomach, fingers trembling. The life growing there felt heavy, terrifying, impossible. A living tie to a world she didn’t understand and was too afraid to belong to.
“I love him,” she said suddenly, tears slipping free. “I love him and I’m still leaving.”
Caroline didn’t argue. She didn’t try to soften the truth. “Sometimes loving someone isn’t enough to make you stay.”
As the plane lifted off the ground, Zarlia squeezed her eyes shut.
She saw him—blood on his hands, rage in his eyes, tenderness in his touch. She felt his arms around her, the way he buried his face in her neck like she was the only place he felt safe.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the hum of the cabin. “I’m so sorry.”
The earth disappeared beneath the clouds. And with it, the life she was too afraid to choose.
​Zarlia pressed her face into Caroline’s shoulder the moment the plane steadied in the air.
She hadn’t realized she was shaking until Caroline wrapped both arms around her, firm and grounding, like she was holding something fragile that might splinter if touched wrong. Zarlia’sbreath came in uneven pulls, each inhale stuttering, each exhale breaking apart before it finished.
“I know,” Caroline murmured softly, her hand moving up and down Zarlia’s back. “I know, sweetheart.”
Zarlia bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep the sound in. Crying felt dangerous—like if she let herself really do it, she wouldn’t stop. Like she would unravel right there in the narrow seat, lungs collapsing under the weight of everything she had left behind.
“I didn’t want it to be like this,” Zarlia whispered. “I didn’t want to leave without telling him.”
Caroline didn’t say but you did. She didn’t say you had to. She just held her.
After a long moment, Caroline leaned back slightly, her expression careful, measured. “There’s something else,” she said gently. “I didn’t want to say it earlier.”
Zarlia’s stomach tightened instinctively.
“I booked you an appointment,” Caroline continued. “With a very good doctor. One I trust. For the abortion.”
The word sat between them, heavy and ugly and final.
Zarlia stared at her hands. At the faint tremor in her fingers. At the place just below her ribs where something was growing—something that felt like both a miracle and a sentence.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
No tears came this time. Just a dull, hollow ache.
Caroline searched her face. “You don’t have to decide right now.”
“I know,” Zarlia replied. Then, after a pause, “But thank you. For thinking of it. For… taking care of me.”
Caroline reached out and squeezed her hand. “Always.”
Zarlia turned back to the window, watching the clouds slide past like untouched worlds. Somewhere far below, Stetson was waking up to an empty bed. Somewhere far below, everything she loved was beginning to crack.
She closed her eyes and let herself grieve in silence.

Stetson drove like a man unhinged.
The road blurred beneath him as he sped past towns, gas stations, empty stretches of highway. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. Every red light felt like a personal insult. Every delay sent a spike of fury straight through his chest.
“She’s still here,” he kept telling himself. “She has to be.”
Luke sat in the passenger seat, tense, silent, his eyes constantly scanning the road ahead. “You’re going to get us killed if you don’t slow down,” he said finally.
“I don’t care,” Stetson snapped.
“She wouldn’t want this.”
Stetson laughed—a sharp, broken sound. “You don’t know what she wants.”
What he knew was the smell of her fear lingering in the house. What he knew was the way she had hugged him the night before, too tight, like she was memorizing the feel of him.
What he knew was that he had failed to see it.
They searched everywhere Luke suggested. Hospitals. Hotels. Train stations. Nothing.
Each dead end fed the beast inside him.
By the time they returned to the house, the sky had darkened, clouds pressing low and heavy like they, too, were waiting for something terrible to happen.
That was when he smelled her.
Stacy.
She stood in the courtyard like she owned the place, arms crossed, expression smug and infuriatingly calm. Her scent hit him like poison—familiar, unwelcome, laced with old memories and resentment.
“Where is she?” she asked, her tone light, almost amused.
Stetson didn’t remember crossing the distance between them.
One moment he was standing still, the next his hand was wrapped around her throat, lifting her clean off the ground. Her feet kicked uselessly, eyes widening—not in fear, but in shock.
“Say her name again,” he growled, voice thick with barely restrained violence, “and I’ll kill you.”
Stacy laughed. Actually laughed.
“She’s gone,” she said breathlessly. “Another country. Isn’t that adorable?”
Something in him snapped.
Luke moved quickly, gripping Stetson’s arm. “Not here,” he said low. “Not now.”
Stetson released her with a shove. Stacy stumbled back, coughing, eyes blazing.
“You always were too emotional,” she said, straightening herself. “This is exactly why humans don’t belong in our world. Look at what she’s done to you.”
“Leave,” Stetson said through clenched teeth.
She smiled instead. “None of this would have happened if you’d made me your Luna. The pack would be stable. You wouldn’t be chasing a human who couldn’t even stay.”
Stetson turned away before he did something irreversible because she knew he was right—right about everything but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it or even regret it.
He walked out without another word.
Behind him, Mimi stepped forward, fury written plainly on her face. “Say one more thing,” she warned, “and I’ll finish what my injuries didn’t.”
Stacy scoffed. “I’m surprised you’re not dead yet. I thought daddy sent his wolves to eliminate your betraying ass”
Mimi didn’t hesitate.
Her foot connected with Stacy’s rib in a sharp, brutal kick that knocked the air straight out of her lungs. Stacy screamed, stumbling backward, rage flaring hot and wild.
She lunged.
Luke was faster.
He caught her wrist mid-swing, grip iron-tight. “You’re done,” he said calmly. “Leave. Now.”
Stacy wrenched free, breathing hard, eyes darting between them. “This isn’t over,” she hissed. “I’ll be back.”
She turned and stormed off, her presence poisoning the air even after she was gone. She went to her car, her brother smirking at her, “Drive”, she muttered. She knew Stetson all too well and she was sure he would come to his senses like she hoped.
Mimi exhaled shakily. “I hate her.”
Luke watched the empty gate for a long moment before turning back inside.
Stetson was already gone—out in the night, chasing a scent that no longer existed, losing himself piece by piece to the fear that the one person who mattered most had chosen a world without him. He knew she was gone for good but he refused to accept it.
And somewhere far above the clouds, Zarlia held her stomach and tried not to cry, unaware of just how close everything was to tearing apart completely