POV: Ravenna
Father sends word to the front lines immediately after Volcris's threat arrives.
All forces fall back to defensive positions. Prepare for ceasefire negotiations. Return to capital for strategic repositioning. Standard military orders delivered with urgency born from external threat.
I wait. Anxious. Terrified. Counting hours until Theron returns.
Day one: Forces begin retreating. Organized withdrawal. No word yet.
Day two: First units arrive at capital. Not Hadrian's. Not Theron's. Other divisions. I ask everyone—have you seen them? Are they coming? Everyone says yes, they're withdrawing like everyone else, should arrive soon.
Soon. SOON. That word becomes torture.
Day three: Hadrian's forces should arrive. I wake before dawn. Station myself on the ramparts. Watching.
They come at midday. Exhausted. Wounded. But alive. Soldiers marching. Dragons flying. The organized chaos of military retreat.
I scan the approaching forces. Looking for Havoc's massive red-black form. Looking for Theron's scarred face. Looking for—
He's not there.
My stomach drops. But I tell myself he's just—somewhere. Flying scout. Rearguard. SOMEWHERE. He'll arrive with next group.
Hadrian's dragon lands in the courtyard. I'm running before he fully shifts. Before he can even SPEAK.
"Where is he?" I demand. "Where's Theron?"
Hadrian's face—gods, his FACE. Exhausted. Grieving. Devastated.
"Ravenna," he starts.
"WHERE IS HE?" I'm shouting now. Don't care. "You were together. You retreated together. Where—"
"We were ambushed." His voice is hollow. "Two days ago. During retreat. Eclipse agents. Not water kingdom forces. ECLIPSE. They hit us hard. Fast. Professional."
"And?" My heart is POUNDING. "And THERON?"
"They targeted wounded. Used injured soldiers as bait. Theron went after The Shadow—the assassin targeting our medics." Hadrian's eyes are red. Like he's been crying. "We got separated. Fighting was chaos. By the time I regrouped—" He stops. "He was gone. No one's seen him since."
The world TILTS. "Gone?"
"Missing. We searched. For HOURS. Couldn't find him. Couldn't—" His voice breaks. "I'm sorry. I should have stayed with him. Should have—"
"He's not dead." My voice is too loud. Too desperate. "I would FEEL it if he died. The bond would—would BREAK. And it's not broken. It's just—" I touch my chest. Feel the bond. Stretched thin. Distant. Like elastic pulled too far. "He's alive. Somewhere. Unconscious maybe but alive."
"Ravenna—"
"He promised." I'm crying now. Can't stop. "He promised to come back. He doesn't break promises. He's alive and I'm going to FIND him."
"You can't." Hadrian grabs my shoulders. Gentle but firm. "Eclipse is still out there. The Shadow is still hunting. Going after Theron means walking into TRAP. They WANT you to come. Want to use him as BAIT."
"I don't CARE." I'm shouting again. "He's mine. My bonded mate. My—my everything. And I'm not leaving him with Eclipse agents who want him dead."
"Ravenna, please—"
"NO." I pull away from him. "Father can forbid it. You can argue. Everyone can PROTEST. I'm going anyway. I'm finding him and bringing him HOME."
I run. Don't know where. Just—RUN. Away from Hadrian's devastated face. Away from news that Theron is MISSING. Away from the possibility that he's—that he might be—
No. NO. He's alive. I FEEL it. The bond is stretched but not broken. Strained but not severed. He's alive and hurt and alone and I'm going to FIND him.
I burst into Father's war room. He's with advisors planning ceasefire negotiations. Everyone stops when I enter.
"Theron is missing," I gasp. Breathing too hard. Crying too much. "Eclipse ambush. Two days ago. I need to go find him. NOW."
Father goes very still. "Absolutely not."
"He's alive—"
"And you going after him gets you KILLED." His voice is iron. "Eclipse wants this. Wants you desperate and reckless. Wants to use Theron as bait to lure you into ambush."
"I don't CARE—"
"I DO." He's standing now. "You're going to Aetherwyn in two days for truce negotiations. You're too important. Too necessary. You cannot risk yourself for—"
"For my BONDED MATE?" My voice is sharp enough to cut. "For the man who took an arrow meant for me? Who protected me through everything? Who SURVIVED five rejections to find me and I'm supposed to just—just ABANDON him when Eclipse has him?"
"You're not abandoning—"
"Then what AM I DOING?" I'm screaming now. Don't care about advisors watching. Don't care about protocol. "What am I doing if not FINDING the man I love? If not searching for him? If not bringing him HOME?"
Silence. Everyone staring.
Father's expression is torn. Conflicted. Understanding warring with practicality.
"Give me three days," he says finally. "Three days to send scouts. To search properly. To locate him without risking YOU." He pauses. "If we haven't found him by then—"
"I'm going anyway." My voice is flat. Certain. "With or without permission. With or without help. I'm GOING."
"I know." He sounds exhausted. "You're exactly like your mother. Stubborn. Reckless when people you love are threatened." He looks at advisors. "Send scouts. Best trackers. Find Theron. Bring him back. Alive."
They scatter. Following orders. Organizing search parties.
I stand there shaking. Barely upright. The bond in my chest stretched so thin it hurts. Like elastic about to snap. But not SNAPPED. Not broken. Just—painful. Wrong. DISTANT.
"He's alive," I whisper. More prayer than statement. "He's alive and I'm going to find him."
"I believe you," Father says quietly. "Your certainty is—compelling."
"It's not certainty. It's the BOND." I touch my chest. "I feel him. Faint. Far. But there. If he died, I'd know. I'd FEEL it. And I don't. So he's alive."
"Then we find him." Father's voice is firm. "Three days. We find him or you go searching yourself and I send half the military with you to ensure you survive the attempt."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." He looks grim. "Eclipse has him. Or knows where he is. Either way, this is trap waiting to spring. We need to be SMART about this. Careful. Strategic."
"I don't WANT to be strategic—"
"I know. You want to run after him immediately. Set everything on fire until he's returned." His expression softens slightly. "But that gets you both killed. So we're doing this right. With planning. With resources. With actual CHANCE of success."
I want to argue. Want to insist I leave immediately. Want to—
But he's right. Going alone gets me killed. Gets Theron killed if he's injured and needs help I can't provide alone.
"Three days," I agree. Voice rough. "But if we haven't found him by then—"
"You go." Father nods. "I won't stop you. I'll just make sure you have support."
Morgana finds me later in my chambers. I'm sitting on the floor AGAIN. Seems to be my processing position now. Floor-sitting while world falls apart.
She doesn't say anything. Just sits beside me. Takes my hand.
"He's alive," I tell her.
"I know."
"The bond would break if he died. And it's not broken. Just—stretched. Thin. Wrong."
"So we find him." Her voice is certain. "Three days of organized search. Then WE go searching ourselves if needed."
"Father said—"
"I don't care what Father said." She squeezes my hand. "You're my sister. Theron is family. We don't abandon family. Even if it's stupid and dangerous and walking into obvious trap."
"Thank you."
"Always." She leans her head against mine. "He promised to come back. He'll keep that promise. We just have to FIND him."
"What if—" I can't finish. Can't voice the fear.
"No what-ifs." Morgana's voice is firm. "Just facts. Fact: he's alive. Fact: we're going to find him. Fact: Eclipse is going to regret taking him."
I nod. Try to believe. Try to hold onto certainty instead of drowning in fear.
Three days. Three days to find him.
And if we don't?
Then I go anyway. Rules be damned. Safety be damned. Everything be damned.
I'm getting him back. Dead or alive.
Preferably alive.
Please gods, let him be alive.