Chapter 3 Hunter and Tara

Vanished

Hunter pov

I stood in the cold pre-dawn darkness outside the McKenzie cabin, my breath forming white clouds in the frigid air. The wooden structure sat empty and silent, its windows dark and lifeless. The front door hung slightly ajar, creaking softly in the morning breeze like a mouth trying to speak.

I had been standing there for ten minutes, unable to bring myself to step inside. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, agitated by the wrongness of it all. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

"Sir?" The voice belonged to Marcus Cole, my father's beta and the pack's head tracker. The older man approached cautiously, his weathered face creased with concern. "The scent trail ends here. We've circled the entire territory twice, but there's nothing beyond this point."

My jaw clenched. I had been hoping against hope that the beta would tell me something different, that there was still a chance to find her. But deep down, I had known the truth since the moment I had woken up three hours ago with an inexplicable emptiness in his chest and the sudden, desperate need to see Tara.

The severed mate bond had been like a constant ache since last night, but this morning it had transformed into something else—a void where her presence should have been, as if she'd been erased from existence entirely.

"What do you mean the scent trail ends?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "I mean it just... stops. About fifty yards into the forest, right at the stream that marks our eastern border. It's like she just vanished into thin air."

I pushed past him and stalked toward the cabin. The door swung open at his touch, revealing the neat, sparse interior of the McKenzie home. Everything was in its place—too much in its place. No signs of hurried packing, no drawers left open, no belongings scattered about. If I didn't know better, I would think the occupants had simply stepped out for a morning walk.

But James McKenzie's scent was as absent as his daughter's.

"They planned this," I muttered, running my hands through my dark hair. "They didn't just run. They planned every detail."

I moved through the small cabin like a man possessed, searching for any clue, any sign of where they might have gone. In Tara's bedroom, I found clothes still hanging in the closet, books still lined up on the shelf, her bed made with military precision. But her personal items—the things that would have carried her scent most strongly—were gone.

"Sir," Marcus called from the kitchen. "You need to see this."

I found the beta standing beside the kitchen table, holding a single piece of paper. The handwriting was precise, masculine—James McKenzie's.

*Alpha Marcus,*

*By the time you read this, my daughter and I will be gone. We pose no threat to the pack and have no intention of revealing pack secrets or locations. We simply cannot remain after what transpired last night.*

*I have served the Silverstone Pack faithfully for twenty-three years. I have bled for this pack, sacrificed for this pack, and would have died for this pack. But I will not watch my daughter suffer daily reminders of her public humiliation.*

*Please do not attempt to follow us. We have taken measures to ensure we cannot be tracked, and we will not return.*

*Thank you for the years of brotherhood. I hope you understand.*

*James McKenzie*

I stared at the letter, reading it twice before the words fully sank in. "Measures to ensure they cannot be tracked," I repeated slowly. "What the hell does that mean?"

"There are ways," Marcus said reluctantly. "Old ways. Scent masking that goes beyond simple herbs and mud. If someone knows the right combinations, the right rituals..." He trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts.

"Speak plainly, Marcus."

"Witch magic, sir. There are still a few of the old bloodlines scattered around, practitioners who remember the alliance between wolves and witches from generations ago. For the right price, they can make someone completely untrackable."

My blood ran cold. If Tara and her father had enlisted magical help, they could be anywhere by now. Hundreds of miles away, their scents completely masked, their trail as cold as if they'd never existed.

"How long?" I asked.

"Sir?"

"How long would it take to arrange something like that? To find a witch willing to help and set up the spell work?"

Marcus frowned, considering. "If they already had contacts... maybe a few hours. But if they had to search, negotiate, travel to meet someone..." He shrugged. "Could take days. Maybe weeks."

"They did this in one night," I said, my voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Which means they had help. Someone in the pack knew about this."

I stormed out of the cabin, Marcus hurrying to keep up with his long strides. The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting everything in shades of gold and amber. Under normal circumstances, it would have been beautiful. Today, it felt like a mockery.

"Get me a list of every pack member who's had contact with James McKenzie in the past month," I ordered as we walked. "Cross-reference it with anyone who's left pack territory for any reason. I want to know who helped them."

"Sir, with respect, is that wise? If word gets out that you're investigating pack members over this..."

I stopped walking so abruptly that Marcus nearly collided with me. When I turned, my gray eyes were blazing with barely contained fury.

"Are you questioning my judgment, Beta?"

"No, sir. Of course not. I just think—"

"You think what? That I should let them go? That I should just accept that two of our pack members vanished in the night without a trace?"

Marcus held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I think you need to consider why they left. And whether bringing them back against their will is really in anyone's best interest."

For a moment, I looked like I might shift right there in the clearing, my body trembling with suppressed rage. Then I took a deep breath, forcing my wolf back down with visible effort.

"They're my responsibility," I said finally. "Every member of this pack is my responsibility. I don't get to pick and choose which ones matter."

"Even after what happened last night?"

The question hung in the air between us like a challenge. My jaw worked silently for several seconds before I answered.

"Especially after what happened last night."

They reached the main pack house just as my dad was emerging from the front door, his face grim. The moment he saw his me, I knew that word of Tara's disappearance had already reached him.

"My office. Now." The Alpha's voice brooked no argument.

I followed my father inside, past the early-rising pack members who watched them with curious eyes. The Alpha's office was a testament to pack history—shelves lined with old texts, walls covered with photographs of past leaders, and a massive oak desk that had belonged to my grandfather.

"Sit," Marcus commanded, settling into the chair behind his desk.

I remained standing. "I can handle this."

"Can you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've managed to lose your mate and one of our most experienced warriors in the span of twelve hours."

"She's not my mate," I said automatically, the words tasting like poison. "I rejected her. The bond is broken."

Marcus studied me with the calculating gaze that had made him one of the most respected Alphas in the region. "Is it? Because you look like hell, you're acting like a man whose world has been turned upside down, and you've got half the pack's trackers combing the forest for a girl you claim means nothing to you."

My hands clenched into fists at his sides. "She's a pack member. I would do the same for anyone."

"Would you? Or is this about the fact that you made a choice last night that your wolf is fighting you on every step of the way?"

"My wolf understands duty," I snarled. "My wolf understands that sometimes we have to sacrifice personal desires for the greater good of the pack."

"Your wolf understands that you just threw away the greatest gift the Moon Goddess could give you, and now it's tearing you apart from the inside out."

The words hit their mark, and my composure cracked. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel it? Every breath hurts. Every heartbeat reminds me of what I did. But it was the right choice. The Crescent Moon Pack—"

"Can go to hell," Marcus finished. "Along with their political games and their marriage proposals."

I stared at my father in shock. "You said—"

"I said a lot of things when I was trying to prepare you for the responsibilities of leadership. But I never said you should reject your true mate for a political alliance."

"But the pack—"

"Will be stronger with you and your true mate leading it than it ever would be with some arranged marriage to a girl you don't love."

I felt the foundation of everything he'd believed shifting beneath his feet. "Then why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you tell me this last night?"

Marcus's expression softened slightly. "Because you're going to be Alpha soon, and an Alpha has to make his own choices. Even the wrong ones. Even the ones that break his heart."

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at my father, seeing him clearly for perhaps the first time. Not just as the Alpha, not just as the voice of authority and wisdom, but as a man who had once been young and foolish and desperately in love.

"I have to find her," I say quietly.

"Yes," Marcus agreed. "You do. But first, you need to figure out why you really want to find her. Because if it's just about pride, about not wanting to lose, then you'll only hurt her more than you already have."

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of my father's words settle over me like a shroud. Somewhere out there, Tara was starting a new life without me. She was free of the bond, free of the pain, free of everything that had tied her to this place and to me.

And I was still here, drowning in regret and the growing certainty that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.