Kael’s POV

The fortress slept uneasily. Every corridor echoed what I’d said before the council. The weight of it is a blade between my ribs. I waited in the war room, the old map spread out, lines redrawn until they led nowhere.

Mira slipped in, hood shadowing her face. The silence between us was heavy. “You shouldn’t have done it,” she said low. “They’ll strip your title before dawn.”

“I don’t care.” My hands stayed on the map. “You’re still breathing. That’s what matters.”

She moved closer, cautious. “That’s not protection. That’s suicide.”

“I’ve survived worse things.” My words were harder than I meant them to be. She flinched, and the distance between us tightened.

She scanned the markings. “You’re already planning something.”

“I won’t wait for them to decide what happens to you, or to her.”

Her breath hitched. “Don’t,”

“She’s not gone,” I cut in. “I don’t believe that.”

Mira’s shoulders trembled, then steadied. “You don’t know what they did, Kael. You don’t know what I saw.”

“Then tell me.” I leaned forward. “All of it.” Her confession came in shards. “I left her with a guard when the temple burned. He was to take her north. The carriage never arrived. I searched for weeks, then stopped when Seraphine found me.”

“And you told no one?” I swallowed. “Who would have believed the Alpha’s rogue mate was with a cursed mark?”

The ache in her voice cut deeper than any wound. “We’ll find her,” I said. “By tearing down whoever buried the truth.”

She shook her head. “You think the council will let that happen? Seraphine already knows.”

“She knows something,” I said. “But she’s hiding the rest. I felt it when she spoke your name.”

Distant footsteps. I blew out the lantern; Mira went still. The alarm sounded, sharp through the halls. “Stay here,” I told her. She didn’t move. “If they’re coming for me, you’ll need more than words.”

We slipped through the back corridor and down steps beneath the western wall. Torches bled light through the stone slits. In the lower passage, someone stepped out of the shadow. “Alpha.” The voice was rough, familiar. “You still attract trouble.”

“Taren.” I stiffened. Scar glinted beneath dim light. “Didn’t think you’d return.”

“Used to serve under your command,” he said. “Thought I’d offer a trade.”

He produced a torn scrap with a sigil half-burned but familiar, the same crest the mate bears beneath her skin. “Found this at the southern ravine,” he said. “The trail was warm two days ago.”

Mira went rigid. “Where exactly?”

“Old Bloodstone border,” he answered. “Before you ask, yes, I’m sure.”

I didn’t trust him. He was calculating too much. Yet the detail was too precise to dismiss. “What do you want?”

“Protection,” he said. “Immunity from council law. I help you find the girl.”

“You’re bargaining with blood,” Mira said.

“Everything worth finding costs something.”

There was no other path. “Fine,” I said. “You get immunity when we find her.” He melted back into shadow before I could reply. Mira watched him go. “He’s lying.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But lies still point somewhere.”

Back in the war room, I marked the southern ravine with a single black cross. “That’s where we start.”

“If the council finds out,” she began. “They won’t,” I said.

She warned me again. “The Bloodstone ruins are cursed.”

“I’ve faced worse than curses,” I said. “This one took my daughter.”

Silence cut clean between us. “If we find her, Kael, if she’s alive.”

“Everything changes.” I met her eyes. “And if she’s not?”

“Then I’ll burn whoever’s responsible until nothing remains.” My promise left the room colder.

Outside, guards’ voices drifted, oblivious that their Alpha had already turned against orders. Mira leaned over the map. “If we go south, we’ll need a diversion.”

“I’ll create one,” I said. “Seraphine’s spies watch the gates; we’ll leave through the tunnels.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“For people who mattered less.” My answer carried its own weight.

She touched the faint glow beneath her skin where the mark pulsed. “You don’t trust Taren.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why bring him in?”

“Because he’s desperate enough to be useful.”

“And when desperation turns on you?” she asked softly.

“Then I’ll handle it.”

A guard appeared at the door, pale. “Alpha, the council requests your presence at dawn. Seraphine says it’s urgent.”

“Tell her I’ll answer when I’m ready.” He bowed and left. Mira exhaled. “She knows we’re together.”

“Let her know,” I said. “It’ll keep her guessing.”

“That’s not strategy. That’s war.”

“It’s both,” I said. “There’s no difference anymore.”

We mapped routes and timed shifts in silence. Each decision felt heavier, each choice a step toward something irreversible. The torches burned low; shadows curled at the table’s edge.

“You should rest,” she said.

“I can’t.”

“Neither can I.”

When we finished, she stood. For a moment, the space between us held what we had been. Her eyes softened; mine did not. “If she’s still alive, if we find her, you’ll have to choose between her and the pack.”

“I already have,” I said.

She flinched but did not argue. At the door, she paused. “May the gods forgive us both.”

“They stopped listening a long time ago.”

When she left the room felt colder. I traced the path south and whispered, “Hold on.” The bond flickered faintly but was alive. I knew then I wouldn’t rest until I followed it, until I tore the truth from whoever stole her. Not until blood answered blood.