Caden’s POV
The moment Elara came back to the castle without Lise, I knew something inside me would never be the same again.
I was already on the grand floor when the doors burst open. Guards rushed in first, bloodied and shaken, followed by Serena—her face streaked with tears she clearly hadn’t had time to wipe away. And then Elara stumbled through the doorway like a ghost ripped out of the night itself.
Empty arms.
That was what broke me.
I crossed the hall in seconds, catching her before her legs gave out completely. She clutched at my tunic as if I were the only solid thing left in the world, her fingers digging in hard enough to hurt. I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything except the hollow roar spreading through my chest.
“They took her,” she whispered. “Caden… they took our daughter.”
The hall went dead silent.
Every guard, every servant, every council member who had followed the chaos froze where they stood. The words hung in the air like a death sentence. My mind refused to accept them at first, scrambling for alternatives, for logic, for something that wasn’t this.
I forced myself to breathe.
“Who,” I asked, my voice frighteningly calm.
Elara looked up at me, her eyes wild and shattered. “Alexander’s men.”
That name snapped something loose.
Rage surged up so violently I had to lock my jaw to keep from shouting. I turned sharply, my gaze finding James immediately. “Seal the castle. Triple the guard on every entrance. No one leaves without my command.”
James nodded once and moved, barking orders before anyone could question them.
Elara sagged against me. I wrapped an arm around her, holding her upright because I knew if I let go she would collapse completely. Serena hovered close, wringing her hands, her eyes fixed on Elara with raw guilt.
“It was a trap,” Serena said hoarsely. “They came straight for the camp. They knew exactly where to look.”
“Of course they did,” I muttered.
Alexander didn’t move blindly. He never had.
We moved Elara to the council chamber against her protests. She wanted to run back into the night, to chase after soldiers she could never outrun, to scream until her throat tore itself apart. I knew that feeling. I knew it far too well.
But panic wouldn’t save Lise.
Planning might.
When the heavy doors shut behind us, the chamber filled quickly—James, Serena, several senior commanders, and a handful of trusted council members. Maps were dragged out, lanterns lit, voices overlapping in sharp, frantic bursts.
“Elara,” James said carefully, “we need to know everything. Where did it happen?”
She straightened slowly, forcing herself upright with a strength that hurt to watch. Her voice shook, but she spoke clearly. “South-east of the capital. Refugee camp near the old market road. They moved fast. Too fast. They weren’t there to fight. They were there for her.”
The room darkened with that realization.
“They wanted leverage,” one commander said grimly.
“No,” I corrected coldly. “They wanted blood.”
Elara flinched beside me, but she didn’t look away.
“We cannot charge in blindly,” Serena said. “If Alexander has her, any direct attack could put her life at risk.”
James nodded. “He’ll expect that. He’ll use her to draw us out.”
Every instinct in me screamed to do exactly that—to gather every soldier I had and burn Alexander’s camps to the ground until I found my daughter. My hands curled into fists on the table, nails biting into my palms.
I forced myself to think.
“Elara,” I said quietly, turning to her. “Look at me.”
She did, tears spilling freely now.
“I will get her back,” I said. “I swear it. But we do this my way. Carefully.”
She nodded, though I could see how much it cost her to do so.
“We need intelligence,” I continued, turning back to the table. “Not guesses. Not fear. We need to know where Alexander would take a child.”
A bitter voice answered from the edge of the room.
“I might.”
Everyone turned at once.
William stood near the wall, guarded but not restrained, his face pale and drawn. He looked exhausted, haunted, like someone who hadn’t slept in days. His eyes flicked to Elara first, then to me.
“He won’t keep her near the borders,” William said quietly. “Too obvious. He’ll take her somewhere symbolic. Somewhere tied to Verdana’s old resistance.”
I studied him carefully. “And you know this how?”
“Because he did the same thing before,” William replied. His jaw tightened. “When he wanted to make a statement.”
Elara’s breath hitched. “Where?”
William hesitated. I could see the conflict tearing through him—the fear of betraying his father battling the horror of what had just happened.
“There’s an old fortress,” he said finally. “Hidden in the northern hills. It was abandoned years ago. Alexander used it as a base when I was younger.”
James leaned forward. “That’s days away.”
William shook his head. “Not if you know the paths.”
The room went quiet again, heavier this time.
“You expect us to trust you?” one commander scoffed.
I raised a hand sharply, silencing him.
William met my gaze directly. “I know what he’s capable of,” he said. “And I know what it’s like to be powerless under him.”
Something in his tone struck me harder than I expected.
I saw myself at sixteen. Angry. Confused. Trained to believe pain was strength and mercy was weakness. I had been shaped by a parent who thought cruelty was the same as power.
And I had survived it.
“Elara,” I said quietly. “What do you think?”
She looked at William for a long moment. Her grief was still raw, still bleeding, but beneath it was something else—clarity.
“I think he’s telling the truth,” she said. “And I think Alexander would never forgive him for helping us.”
William swallowed hard.
That settled it.
“We don’t march an army,” I said decisively. “We send a small unit. Quiet. Fast. If Alexander realizes we’re coming, he’ll move her.”
James frowned. “That’s dangerous.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’ll lead it.”
Elara grabbed my arm instantly. “No.”
“I have to,” I said firmly. “I’m her father.”
“So am I her mother,” she shot back, voice shaking with fury and fear. “And I’m not letting you die while I wait behind walls.”
“We can’t both go,” James said carefully.
Elara turned to me, her eyes burning. “Then I’m going.”
The room held its breath.
I looked at her, really looked at her—the woman who had stood against my enemies, my mother, an entire council. The woman who had never once backed down when it mattered.
I hated this. I hated that war was forcing this choice on us.
Finally, I exhaled slowly.
“We go together,” I said. “But we need someone who knows Alexander’s mind better than anyone.”
My gaze shifted back to William.
“You volunteered once,” I said quietly. “Do you still mean it?”
William nodded, fear and determination warring on his face. “Yes.”
James cursed under his breath.
I straightened, rolling the map closed with finality. “Then we prepare. Tonight.”
Because one way or another, this ended now.
And I would burn the world before I let Alexander keep my daughter.