Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 341: Reaching out!

The alley was silent.

Cain stood motionless, eyes locked on the empty air where Violet had vanished, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. The echo of his own snarl still trembled in his throat, but the world had already gone still, as though holding its breath with him. Dust drifted through the air where she had stood moments ago—nothing more than proof that she was gone.

His fingers twitched. For a long heartbeat he said nothing, only staring at the emptiness before him, disbelief hollowing him out from the inside. Then, with a harsh exhale, he reached into his coat and snatched his phone out with trembling hands.

The glass nearly cracked under the pressure of his thumb as he typed:

"Find them. Increase search across the city. Use every man. No one rests until they are found."

He hit send. The message went straight to Henry. The only man he trusted to obey without question.

The device dimmed in his grasp, the screen flashing the confirmation of delivery, and still he stood there, jaw tight, red eyes glowing faintly beneath the dark hood of his anger.

He knew how that teleportation worked. He’d read enough, studied enough. For Lady June to have transported not just herself but Violet as well, she’d have paid a price. Blood magic demanded balance. Her body would be weak—fragile even. And that meant she could be killed.

His hand clenched tighter around the phone until the plastic casing cracked with a soft snap.

"Kill Lady June," he muttered under his breath. "And bring Violet back alive."

Alive. The word felt strange in his mouth.

He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it. Part of him wanted to tear her apart for the things she’d said—for the way she’d looked at him like he was something repulsive, a beast undeserving of love. But another part of him, quieter and crueler, still whispered the truth he didn’t want to face: she had done it to protect him.

He knew that. Somewhere beneath the rage, the truth pulsed like a wound.

And yet, the voices came.

Who will love a monster like you?

He stiffened.

You should have chained her up when you had the chance!

Cain’s jaw tightened until it ached.

You were delusional, Cain. Look where that got you.

He gritted his teeth hard enough for pain to shoot down his neck.

Without another word, he turned from the alley, boots striking hard against the cobblestone. Uva, pressed deep into the shadows nearby, dared not even breathe. She kept herself small, invisible, praying the darkness would swallow her whole as he passed by. The faint scent of blood and smoke lingered in his wake, carried by the chill of the evening breeze.

She knew better than to speak.

Cain didn’t even glance her way. His eyes were fixed forward, burning with that cold, quiet fury that promised ruin to anything in his path.

By evening, the city was crawling.

Teams swept through every street, every hidden passage and underground channel. Cain’s men, loyal and ruthless, left no stone unturned. The sound of boots and orders echoed through the night—searchlights cutting through the fog, dogs sniffing at the edges of alleyways.

Henry sent update after update.

Nothing.

Not a trace.

Cain stood on the balcony of his high-rise, overlooking the endless sprawl of city lights below. His phone vibrated again. Henry’s message flashed briefly:

"Still no sign, sir. We’ve searched all sectors. No trace of either woman."

The words blurred as Cain’s fingers tightened around the railing. His claws—half-shifted now, sharp and curved—dug into the metal until it groaned.

Gone.

Just like that.

All that strength, all that control, and still—he couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t keep her.

The voices returned again, quieter this time, almost pitying.

You thought she could love you. Fool.

His vision wavered. Red and gold bled into each other in his eyes, a molten fury swirling to life.

He turned his gaze toward the heart of the city.

A tremor rippled through the air around him. His muscles spasmed. The pain came fast—bones shifting beneath skin, cracking and reshaping as his body bowed under the transformation. He dropped to one knee, breath ragged, the sound of tearing flesh and snapping joints filling the night air. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

The monster wanted out.

And this time, he didn’t stop it.

The change consumed him. His coat split at the seams, claws bursting through his hands, his spine curving as fur, black as pitch, rippled down his arms. His eyes gleamed—one a searing red, the other burning gold.

Within moments, the man was gone.

In his place stood a beast as massive as a car—muscles rippling beneath its dark coat, fangs glinting under the silver wash of the moon. Its breath steamed in the cold air, each exhale a growl that rumbled like thunder.

Cain tilted his head back.

And howled.

The sound was raw—pain, rage, and loss rolled into a single, deafening cry that split the sky in two. It rolled through the city like a wave, echoing off buildings, cutting through streets, seeping into hearts.

After he transformed and began to howl, he tried to reach her through their bond, forcing it to respond—but it was weakened, almost severed, and the emptiness that followed only fueled his rage.

Down in the city’s lower district, in a dimly lit pub, the sound reached them first as a distant hum. Then it grew—rising into a full-bodied wail that shook the glasses on the counter.

Every conversation stilled.

A few men froze mid-drink. One woman gasped and dropped the mug she was holding, the crash swallowed by the sound of the howl outside.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then, slowly, one man near the corner whispered, "It’s been years since we heard him sound like that."

A murmur rippled through the room.

"Has the lord gone mad again?" another voice asked, cautious, barely above a breath.

"Quiet," the bartender hissed, glancing nervously at the door. "Don’t speak of him that way."

But fear had already found its way into their eyes.

They all knew the stories—the warnings on television, the reports from the mainland about the monsters that walked among them. The ones who ruled the city not through politics but through blood.

Their lord, Cain, was one of them.

A werewolf. A living weapon bound in human skin.

And now, he was grieving.

The howl continued for nearly a minute before fading into a low, guttural growl that seemed to vibrate through the walls themselves. One by one, citizens pressed closer to their tables, whispering prayers to gods they weren’t even sure existed anymore.

Someone muttered, "May he not come down from his mountain tonight."

No one disagreed.

Because everyone knew—when the lord howled like that, something terrible always followed.

Far away, in a narrow room lit only by a single candle, Violet sat awake by the window.

The city below looked different from this height—muted, blurred, softened by the fog that had settled over the streets. But when the sound reached her, there was no mistaking it.

The howl tore straight through the walls, through the silence, through her heart.

Her body went rigid.

It was him.

Her hand trembled where it rested against the glass. Each note of that cry pressed into her bones like an ache she couldn’t name. Her throat tightened.

He was alive.

And he was hurting.

The tears came before she could stop them, spilling silently down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead to the cold windowpane. Her breath fogged the glass, and in it, her reflection looked small—fragile, almost ghostly.

Lady June lay unconscious on the bed behind her, her chest rising and falling weakly beneath a thin blanket. The faint smell of blood still hung in the air from where she’d coughed earlier.

Violet wiped at her face with the back of her sleeve, but the tears kept coming, stubborn and hot.

She’d told herself it was necessary. That leaving him behind—hurting him like that—was the only way to save his life. That if she stayed, he’d die before she ever found a cure.

But none of those thoughts could drown out the sound of his howl.

It was mournful.

Lonely.

And it tore her apart.

For a moment, she almost rose to her feet—almost reached for the door, ready to run back into the night and find him, no matter the cost.

But reality struck like a knife.

Even if she wanted to go to him, she couldn’t.

Not now.

Not with Lady June half-dead and her own powers still dormant.

So instead, she did the only thing she could. She stood there, hands trembling, eyes red, and whispered into the night—though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

"I’m sorry."

Her voice broke.

"I’m so sorry, Cain."

Another howl answered, fainter now but still filled with that same piercing sorrow. Violet pressed her lips together, moving to close the window, unwilling to listen yet unable to ignore the way her heart splintered with each sound.

The wind caught her hair as she slid the latch into place.

Outside, the night stretched on.

And somewhere in the distance, atop the highest point of the city, the wolf with one golden eye and one red stood beneath the moon—still howling for the one who had left him behind.