Sydney
Snow covers the normally golden plains on the outskirts of Moorn, a small territory far outside of the city center. It took a full day to reach this place, this hovel between two hills where the distant border of Eastonia looms.
I don’t want to be here. The distance between Sarah and the damning truth between us is excruciating, damn near tearing me apart.
But I’m still an Alpha. Still a royal. And there are some things I just have to do.
The wind rushes through my fur as I wait beside my father, who’s also in his wolf form. We’re both large and dark brown with glints of gold throughout.
Night has fallen. I know we’re both exhausted. We traveled on foot without stopping for a break. Maybe he needed to run in his wolf as much as I did.
But still, tension makes my muscles lock. My mind is in shambles, and my heart is….
I’m devastated. I don’t know what else to say.
Four wolves approach in the darkness, one of them taking up the rear of the group. My uncle Ryatt is hard to spot this time of night. Pitch black, his eyes are his only marker. Silver eyes meet mine in the dark.
Commander Artyom is with them. His silver wolf gleams in the moonlight. Beside Artyom are two golden wolves, father and son.
Granger and Evander.
I lock eyes with Evander, who lowers his head in greeting.
But my dad turns and takes off back up the hill we’ve just come down, and I’m forced to follow.
We run as a group for over two miles in the endless dark. The moon is full overhead, and the stars are on full display.
But it’s frigid. Too cold, even in our full coats, to remain outside for this meeting that could go on until the early hours of the morning.
We reach a small village where Dad has connections and step into an inn where we’re the only patrons.
Everyone else has been moved out, and the sign on the door reads no vacancy.
Twenty minutes later, I come down from my room fully dressed and in my human form.
My dad and Uncle Ryatt are talking in low tones with commander Artyom at the bar. Even the bartender has been dismissed, but Ryatt pours himself a glass of whiskey regardless.
Evander sits alone at a table nearby, his golden hair a bright contrast to the dark wood features all around him. A fire burns in a large stone hearth behind him, casting the room in shadows and warmth.
I sit down across from him with a sigh. It’s the first time I’ve been able to stop, to sit, in over twenty-four hours.
He pours me a shot of whiskey from his flask, and I greedily accept.
It burns down my throat, numbing the ache in my heart.
It’s not enough, though. My mind drifts back to Sarah.
“Long day?” Evander asks.
I eye him for a moment. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else. I don’t blame him.
“Not as long as yours, I assume.”
“I don’t like having to jump,” he says, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s like being a boat for long periods of time. I get rather sick to my stomach.”
He slides the flask across the table. I take it, drinking straight from the source. The whiskey is young and bitter, but it will do. “How is Kenna?”
“She’s fine,” he replies with a shrug. “Pregnancy suits her. I’m sure she’ll want another five or more after this.”
My mouth ticks into a smile before I can stop myself. Kenna isn’t due for another month, at least.
Thinking of Kenna pregnant has my mind reeling back to the moment I met Sarah for the first time–in her shop, when she turned to me and I noticed the swell of her stomach.
But that wasn’t the first time I met her, was it?
Guilt floods my system. I take another shot, trying to drown it out.
“What’s up with you?” Evander asks in a low tone, taking the flask back and sliding it into his jacket pocket.
I glance over my shoulder at the men at the bar. “Nothing I want to discuss right now.”
Dad and Ryatt start walking over before Evander can pry further. I watch commander Artyom disappear through the door leading outside, closing it tight behind him. They’ve come to some agreement, I realize.
Which means now they want to know about my investigation into Sasha’s whereabouts.
Dad sits down across from me, but Ryatt stays standing, both of them looking grave.
“You’re sure, Sydney?” Ryatt asks.
I look up at him, at his eyes like liquid silver. Power radiates off him. Even in his human form, he’s formidable.
But he’s still my uncle.
“Do you doubt me?”
“Sydney,” Dad warns, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.
“Sasha is dead. I saw her grave myself,” I say with conviction, but I can tell it’s not enough.
This meeting was planned shortly after I brought the news to my dad, only hours after the attack in Crescent City. I have no idea what they mean to do with the information I provided.
But I assume that’s why I’m here, in the middle of nowhere, for an off-the-books meeting between the allied kings.
“We need to be sure,” Ryatt says, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans his thigh against the table across from ours.
“I agree,” Dad replies. “Once it’s confirmed she’s truly dead, we can reopen the borders between our kingdoms. Gabriel will believe we gave up our search for him.”
Evander and I exchange looks, but he doesn’t speak.
He’s thinking what I’m thinking though. I have no doubt about it.
Dread and disgust cloud my senses.
“You’re not going to dig up that grave,” I say. “We’re talking about a child here–”
“If she’s still alive, she isn’t a child anymore,” Ryatt replies hotly. “We can’t trust a name etched by hand on a piece of stone–”
“And if there are bones in that dirt,” I snap, “what will you do? Have your traitorous mystics pray over them, asking the heavens to tell them who they belong to?”
“That’s enough,” Dads hisses in warning, but I’m in no mood.
I stand, facing my uncle. Facing the most powerful man in our known universe. “I will not allow it.”
“It's not up to you,” Dad says as he rises. Only Evander remains seated.
Granger appears out of nowhere, like he was lingering in a shadow. “They’re right, Sydney.”
“I don’t need you to be my voice of reason, Granger.” I point at Evander. “None of us wanted to even look for her. You all made it sound like you were doing this to protect her from Gabriel, but you’re looking for a way to bait him, aren’t you? This was never about protecting a young girl–a young woman–from a madman who intended to torture her for her powers. This was about holding her as a prisoner and letting her take the fall for his crimes because we failed to find him. I’m done.”
“That isn’t what's happening,” Ryatt cuts in sharply, his eyes glowing with power. “If this woman has the power to charge a relic from the time before the veil dropped, then she needs to be found and contained until it’s deemed safe. Until she can prove she’s not working with him. Do you understand?”
“If you go near that grave,” I growl, losing focus, “Ella will find herself ruling alone.”
Ryatt’s snarl makes the entire building tremble. Dad grabs me by the arm and drags me away from the table, through the door, and into the open night air. He throws me into the snow.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Sydney?”
I leap to my feet. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious,” he says in a low, level tone laced with anger. “I don’t think you understand how precarious this situation is.”
“You have no idea. You weren’t in that cave with him–”
“But you were. You know who he is. You know Gabriel better than any of us do, Sydney, and you and Evander are the only ones who understand what he’s capable of. We need to know where he is, what kind of relic he’s using, and where to find it. We needed Sasha for that. We still do, especially now that Crescent Falls was recently attacked!”
“We don’t even know for sure if he was the person behind the attack in Crescent City!”
“Ask yourself who else it would be!”
“You’re wrong for this. Sasha is dead and was buried. She was just a child and had nothing to do with her cousin's crimes. Gabriel is acting alone.”
“And you may be right, but that doesn’t negate the fact that Gabriel is still out there, still capable–”
“I’ve had enough,” I say, my voice cracking over the words.
Dad and I stand in silence for several seconds. His expression softens. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Six months ago, you were ready to go through hell to bring Gabriel to justice. We gave a you a choice–”
“I know,” I cut in, meeting his eyes. “That hasn’t changed.”
“Then whatchanged?”
“There’re innocent people between us and Gabriel. I can’t–I won’t–dig up a child's grave to confirm she’s dead. I have to draw a line somewhere.”
Dad turns from me for a moment, edging toward the door. A sharp, cold wind bites into my exposed skin, turning my cheeks red and numb.
But he says, “Being in power like this changes you, Syd. Things would be different for Ryatt and me if we were just looking out for our families, but we have kingdoms to keep safe. Hundreds of thousands of subjects to protect. We cannot afford a full-fledged war again, not after the destruction Kane caused twenty years ago. If we’re dealing with another Kane, another man with stolen power, we need to end this before it begins. If you believe Sasha is dead… if you feel it in your bones that she died as a child and is buried on that island, then I will believe you, and I will make Ryatt believe you. But if there’s any doubt in your mind–”
“She is dead. Gabriel needed her. He needed her for the relic, and I believe without her he’s powerless. There will be no war, Dad.”
I shift, my clothes shredding and falling away, and take off into the night.
My head spins while I run, and run, and run, chasing the sunrise.
I won’t be able to think straight until I know one thing for sure–and remedy it.
Eventually, the plains around me give way to forests and narrow roads, and within a few hours, the forest opens up to a gleaming, slumbering city.
The fact that I threatened to kill my own uncle, whom I love, doesn’t register until I’ve reached my home again, having sprinted all the way back to Shadowcrest over the course of seven hours, a new record, I’m sure.
I’ll apologize later.
He’ll forgive me.
My family drama falls away when I shift back and dress in the darkened garage. It’s early morning, the sun has barely risen, and the house is silent as I walk upstairs.
That meeting should have gone differently. It was a secret meeting to plan the next stage of locating Gabriel, whether Ryatt would open his borders again and act like the threat is officially gone, trying to give Gabriel a false sense that the royal families have moved on and are being less cautious, or if we’re about to sound the horn of war, officially, after several months of going back and forth.
But I don’t care about any of that anymore. I can’t.
Sarah isn’t in her room.
I wander the house, passing through the library, and see that my office door is open.
Sarah is standing by the window, still as a statue.
I step inside and close the door, locking it.
“He’s my son, isn’t he?”