Rymnev

After opening the door, Nyell didn't know where to put himself while Allen peered inside his room, staring at his messy bed. An amused light danced in his eyes as he grinned, "It smells quite nice in your room."

Nyell slammed the door shut. Of course, that prick couldn't pretend not to have noticed the smell. Werewolves had sensitive noses, especially when it came to their destined mate's arousal. 

"Sorry, sorry," Allen laughed softly, not offended. "It's about the disappearance cases, so will you let me in?" 

Cracking the door open, Nyell glared at the man. He didn't trust him one bit. 

"Remember? I said I'd tell you about the memorial cave later. Now is the time."

"In the middle of the night?" 

"I had to talk to your father first. The conversation lasted for longer than I expected."

"Is that so."

So his father passed first, and he passed second, huh? 

"If you're too embarrassed to let me in, we can go to my hut. Myrven and Layla are out."

Allen poked to where it hurt. Nyell glanced at the man, his gaze landing on his lips. He stared at his mouth briefly before averting his eyes, bits of what he had just done haunting his mind. Still, he didn't want to show Allen he had a guilty conscience, so he stepped aside and allowed the man to come inside. Might as well let the smell and pheromones he had released a moment ago assault the bastard's nose.

It was a critical hit, for a tent soon lifted Allen's pants. Nyell smirked. It looked like he wasn't the only one who couldn't control himself.

Only, Allen wasn't bothered by it and sat on the bed, making himself at home. 

"You better take a seat."

"I'm good."

"Sit."

Allen's usual lazy smile was gone, replaced by a severe expression. Nyell had a bad premonition. Whatever the man had to say, it wasn't pleasant to hear. 

"What's going on?" Nyell asked, doing as told, though he sat on the ground and didn't join Allen on the bed.

"The cave," Allen stated, "is almost empty. Your ancestors' spirits, who have yet to reincarnate, should be resting inside the memorial tablets. But there is almost no one left."

"What are you saying…?"

"Whatever is causing the people in your tribe to disappear," the White Moon tribe's chief sighed, "devoured the souls of your dead brethren."

Nyell's face grew pale as reality dawned upon him. His lips started to tremble, his heartbeat skipping a beat. He thought of his mother, who had died only a few months ago from illness. She certainly hadn't had the time to reincarnate yet.

"Can you leave me alone for a moment, please?"

"I'm not done yet."

"I'm not sure if I want to hear what's going to follow," Nyell let out a broken laugh. "But go ahead, I guess."

"If I'm right, your tribe's members have seen their loved ones leave the village; they just don't remember it."

"What the hell?"

"Your shaman," Allen clicked his tongue, "is far from incompetent."

"That can't be! She's so out of it that she can't barely recognize healing herbs from poisonous ones. The number of times she almost killed me-"

And then, everything made sense.

"Shit! My sister!"

Nyell sprung to his feet, almost breaking the door as he dashed outside. Allen followed closely behind his destined mate as he ran to his father's hut.

"Dad! Where's Isa?!"

"In her room? What's the rush, son?"

"She's not there!"

"That can be. I saw her enter it only a—"

Corriel quickly caught on, his face growing as pale as his son's. If he had seen her enter but hadn't noticed her leave, then, just like his fellow tribe members, he had forgotten she had left. His daughter was gone.

"Did Isa," Allen gritted his teeth, remembering the 'it doesn't concern you' of this afternoon when he had asked what had happened to the teenager, "had a follow-up appointment with the shaman for her twisted ankle?"

Unable to speak, Nyell nodded. 

"Great, just great. MYRVEN!" Allen screamed, bolting outside. A second later, his aide appeared from behind the wooden hut. "Isa disappeared."

"What?!"

The White Moon tribe's chief sighed. Thankfully, it was the middle of the night and most people slept. Although the warriors on duty did gather at his scream, peeking at them with curiosity. There weren't many people, so it wasn't too bad. Corriel should be able to keep their mouths shut. And even if they disobeyed and spread the word, it'd be nothing more than rumors. No one was going to believe them.

"You got my permission to transform," Allen said to his aide, calm but solemn. "Bring Rymnev out and find her."

"The elders are going to give you hell."

"Not if they don't find out."

They both knew it was impossible for the elders not to find out, and they both knew the consequences that it'd bring about. 

But so what?

Myrven gave a small chuckle, glancing at Nyell, who had followed Allen outside. His chief really liked the young man. Destined mate or not, it wasn't his style to go all out for others, especially when he'd known them for less than two days.

"…?"

Myrven shook his head at the questioning look Nyell threw at him. Then, a low, threatening growl escaped his mouth as his body shifted. A heartbeat was long enough for the transformation to occur. Now stood in his place a six-foot-tall wolf, pieces of the white clothing he had been wearing floating in the air. Piercing gray eyes met with Nyell's. Funnily enough, the man's jaw seemed about to fall off. To his defense, his fellow tribesmen weren't any better, some having fallen on their bottoms under the shock.

"Your pup is about to pee himself, master." The deep voice resounded in everyone's mind, sending shivers down their spines. "Shouldn't you comfort him?"

What the heck was this beast?! They were werewolves, but they could only transform into wolves at night, when the two moons were full, and not at will. Most of all, they were regular-sized wolves. At best, Alphas were a little bigger than others. Such giant wolves shouldn't exist!

"Don't tease my pup too much," Allen grinned slightly, ignoring the warrior's fearful stares. He then pointed to the jungle with a tilt of his head. "Can you find the pup's sister? She smells a lot like him."

The gigantic wolf hummed the air.

"The trace is faint, but I can find the way." The wolf squinted. "The little old girl is already after her."

"Layla is? That's good to hear."

"Hm," the wolf brought back his attention to Allen and the pup. "Are you hopping on my back today? Your mate is welcome, but the others aren't."

"He is not my mate," Allen said as to not let the warriors know about his and Nyell's special bond, aware Nyell wouldn't like it. But seeing the dark look in the wolf's eyes, he changed his mind. Rymnev was a capricious wolf, and they had already lost enough time. Though Layla was after Isa, he couldn't let her handle everything. He coughed, "He is not my mate yet. I'm still courting him."

Rymnev nodded approvingly, "You're right. Mates should be courted."

Happy, the wolf lowered its body so they could easily climb onto its back. Allen went first, then stretched a hand toward Nyell, inviting him.

Nyell eyed the hand but didn't brush it off, taking it instead. His sister's life was on the line, and though he had many, many questions, now wasn't the time to ask them. He had been in utter despair a moment ago, but after Myrven transformed, a light of hope had been ignited in his heart. 

Isa wasn't lost; they could still find her.