Aaron's POV

The whiskey burns going down, but not enough. Never enough to drown the gnawing emptiness where she used to be.

Six months. One hundred eighty-three days since Elin vanished like smoke, taking Fiona with her. No trail. No scent. No fucking clue where my mate went or why she's still hiding from me.

'She's alive,' Arthur insists, pacing restless circles inside me. 'The bond's still there. Faint, but real.'

I know. That thin thread connecting us—it's the only thing keeping me ...