Dante

Day three.

Seventy-two hours since they took her, and I had nothing. Nothing but false leads, dead ends, and the ever-weakening pulse of the mate bond that told me she was still alive but getting further away.

“Your Majesty.” Marcus entered my office where I’d been staring at maps for the past six hours. “The scouts returned from the northern border. No sign of them.”

I slammed my fist on the desk, splintering the wood. “That’s the fifth report today. Five territories ...