Alpha Draven's Regret: The Return of His Rejected Mate

Nyra's POV   I pushed through the last tangle of brush, my lungs burning, and my heart was pounding like war drums. The forest seemed to close in around me as I ran, desperate and afraid. And then, I saw him. Auren.   Curled near the base of an old covered tree, his small form was not really visible through the shadows. He had pushed himself between the tree roots, trying to hide. He wrapped his arms tightly around his knee, his head was bent, and he was shaking so violently I thought he might shatter.    My feet moved before my mind could catch up. "Auren!" I called out, my voice cracking. He did not look up, like he couldn't hear me at all.   I bent down to my knee beside him. My voice was shaking as I reached out. "Baby, it is me. It is Mama." I was scared to touch him, like he might break apart if I did.   He raised his head up, slowly like it hurt to move. The look in his eyes broke me.   Terror. Pure, filled with fear. His eyes, which were usually bright and full of questions, were wide and lost. His bottom lip trembled, and tears rolled down his dirty cheeks. There were scratches along his arms, dirt spread on his clothes, and dried blood on his temple where something had hurt him, but he was alive. And he was alone, without whoever took him.   "Mama..." he sobbed, his voice was cracked and not really audible. He threw himself into my arms, and I caught him like he was the only thing fixing me to the world.   "I am here," I whispered, rocking him against me, one hand on his head and one holding him close to my heart. "I have got you now." "You are safe." "I promise, you are safe." I was saying it for both of us, praying it was true.   Draven bent down low beside us, his eyes scanning the area, body tense. His hand stayed on his weapon. His voice was low but firm. He was alone. That light. Whatever he did, it must have scared them off. Or they are regrouping."   He turned to the others. "Fan out. Search for the length. No one leaves until we know it is clear. Stay in groups of two."   The warriors scattered like shadows, their figures vanishing between trees, with their weapons drawn. But I could not look away from Auren, could not think about anything but him.   He held me tightly, like he thought I might disappear, his tiny hands gripped in my jacket. He was holding on so hard his knuckles were white. His body was ice-cold and trembling, his cries broken and deep, like he was too tired to even be afraid anymore.   "I got you, baby," I whispered, rubbing my hand on his hair, feeling the twigs and dirt caught there. "You are okay now." "I am here." "Mama is here." I rocked him like when he was little and had bad dreams, but this was no dream.   He said something against my chest that was not audible, but I could not make it out, just syllables that were filled with panic and exhaustion. I held him tighter, rubbing my lips on his temple, breathing him in.   His scent was still there, under the blood, the dirt, the fear and his sweet familiar scent that calmed the storm in my chest just a little. Like the pine trees he loved to climb and the soap I used when I bathed him just days ago.   But something was wrong. He was too quiet and too still. The shaking had stopped. And then his body was not looking satisfying, getting heavier in my arms, his grip loosening. My heart stopped. "Auren?"   I pulled back just to look at him, holding him up as he slumped against me. His eyes were shut, his breathing deep and uneven. His lashes were still wet with tears, stuck together against his too-pale cheeks.   "Auren!" I shook him gently. I was already panicking. "Hey, hey, stay with me." "Look at me." I patted his face lightly. He did not respond, his head rolling a bit.   "He passed out," Draven said, his voice tight. He was already reaching for a pulse, pressing two fingers against Auren's neck. "It is steady. But weak. Too weak for a boy his age."   That did not help. I held unto my son tighter, my hands were shaking as I adjusted him in my arms, holding him like when he was a baby.   He was alive. But something was not right. He should not have collapsed like that.   Not unless whatever power he used took too much out of him. Or something else is happening, something I can't see or fight.   I looked down at his face. It was pale and stained with dirt, his lips looking slightly blue. I caught my breath.   "Hold on," I whispered, pressing my forehead on his own, feeling how cold his skin was. "Please baby, just hold on." "Don't you leave me now." "Not after I found you."   Draven placed a hand on my shoulder, grounding me, silent. I was grateful he didn't try to tell me it would be okay with empty words. The forest around us paused with quiet movement, our warriors were searching and watching.   But all I could hear was the echo of Auren's heartbeat and the thunder of fear in my own chest, like blood rushing too fast through my ears.   And for the first time since this nightmare started, since they took him from me... I was truly scared. Not the fear that kept me moving and searching. Fighting and fighting. This was deeper. The kind that freezes your blood and makes you feel like you are drowning on dry land.   I had found my son, but I could still lose him.   And that was a fear no warrior training had ever taught me to face.