A Mission

A Mission
I walked away. Left him standing there. Felt his devastation through the bond. Sharp. Overwhelming. But I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

Over the next two days, I watched them. Darian and Celeste. Saw them talking near the guest quarters. Saw her touching his arm. Saw him not pulling away fast enough. Saw them walking together toward the dining hall. Saw her laughing at something he said. Saw the familiarity between them. The ease. The history.

Each moment confirmed what I already knew. They fit together. Understood each other. Belonged in the same world.

I didn't. Would never. Was fooling myself thinking otherwise.

Darian tried to approach me three more times. Each time I found an excuse. A patrol. A meeting. Training. Anything to avoid him. Avoid the conversation. Avoid the pain.

The bond hurt constantly now. Pulled between us like an open wound. He was suffering. I was suffering. But talking would only make it worse.

On the third evening, I saw them in the square. Standing close. She was showing him something in a document. His head bent toward hers. Her hand on his forearm. His expression serious. Focused on her. Not looking around. Not searching for me.

Like he'd accepted my distance. Like he'd stopped fighting. Like maybe he'd realized the same thing I had. That this was too hard. Too complicated. Too impossible.

My chest cracked open again. Fresh pain on top of old wounds. My wolf howled. But even she was getting weaker. Tired of fighting. Tired of hurting.

That night, I sat in my room. Stared at the wall. Made my decision. I couldn't stay here. Couldn't watch them together. Couldn't feel the bond pulling while knowing he'd never be fully mine. Couldn't break apart slowly while everyone watched.

I needed to leave. Needed distance. Needed space to figure out how to survive this.

The decision brought relief. Not happiness. Just relief. Like I'd finally stopped fighting the inevitable. Finally accepted the truth. Finally gave up pretending.

I'd go to Connor. Request a mission. Something far away. Something that gave me an excuse. A reason that wasn't just running. A purpose.

The next morning, I found Connor in the training grounds. He looked at me when I approached him. His expression shifted immediately. Concerned. Alert.

"Lyra," he said. "What's wrong?"

Straight to the point. That was Connor. No pleasantries. No pretending.

"I need to request a mission," I said. "External. Diplomatic. Whatever you have."

He studied me for a moment. "Why?"

"Because I'm available. Because you need warriors you trust for outside work. Because I'm qualified."

"That's not what I asked."

I met his amber eyes. "I need to leave. Temporarily. For work. That's all."

"That's not all. I can see it. Everyone can see it. You and Darian—"

"Are none of your concern."

His eyebrows rose. "You're my warrior. You're family. Your well-being is absolutely my concern."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. And requesting a mission to run from your problems isn't fine either."

"I'm not running."

He gave me a look. The same look he gave pack members when they were lying to themselves. "Yes. You are. But I'll respect your choice anyway."

Relief flooded through me. "Thank you."

"But I need to know you're sure. That this is what you want. That you're not making a decision in pain that you'll regret later."

"I'm sure."

"Lyra—"

"Please, Connor. Just give me the mission. Let me go. I need this."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed. "There's a situation with the northern pack. Alliance discussions. Trade route security. They requested a representative from our pack. Someone with diplomatic experience and combat skills."

"I can do that."

"It'll be at least two weeks. Maybe longer."

"That's fine."

"You'll have minimal escort. Two guards. Basic supplies. You'll be representing us officially."

"Understood."

"Okay, then," he said. "Be ready to leave tomorrow at dawn."

"Thank you," I said lowly.

"Don't thank me. I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing."

"You are."

"We'll see."

I turned to leave. He called my name. I looked back. "What?"

"If you need to come back early. If something changes. You have that right. This isn't permanent. It's not exile. It's just space."

"I know."

"Do you? Because right now you look like someone who's giving up. And that's not the Lyra I know."

His words hit hard. But I didn't let them show. Just nodded once. "I'll be ready at dawn."

I left before he could say anything else. Before I could change my mind. Before doubt could creep in. The decision was made. Tomorrow I'd leave. Tomorrow I'd put distance between me and Darian. Tomorrow I'd start figuring out how to live without him.

Tonight, I just had to get through packing. Through one more night in this settlement. Through one more night feeling the bond pull and ache and scream.

Tomorrow would be easier. Had to be. Couldn't possibly be worse.