CHAPTER 3

THE HUNT BEGINS.

Cassius’s POV

“You want me to stop searching for Celene?”

My voice was quiet, but it carried enough weight to suck the air from the room. The torches lining the chamber flickered against stone walls, casting long, shifting shadows like ghosts.

The council members looked at one another, avoiding my eyes like prey sensing a predator. Elder Varren, always the first to speak, cleared his throat.

“Your Majesty,” he said carefully, “it’s been two weeks. We’ve sent scouts, paid informants, questioned every slaver and trader across five towns. Even the black markets have turned up empty.” He exhaled. “We must assume—”

“Assume nothing.”

The steel in my voice sliced through the room.

Varren hesitated, then pressed on. “Every day you delay choosing a mate, the packs grow restless, whispers spread. They need stability, they need a queen.”

I leaned forward, bracing both hands on the long oak table. “My sister is missing, and you’re worried about matters of the bed?”

Elder Rivas—sharp-eyed and always the boldest among them met my gaze. “It’s not about comfort, Your Majesty. It’s about the future of the bloodline. The kingdom needs an heir.”

A bitter laugh nearly escaped me.

Of course. That’s all Celene and I ever were to them—symbols. Not people.

I straightened slowly. “My bloodline is intact and I’ll keep it that way by finding my sister first. No mate banquets and no distractions.”

“You are king,” Varren said tightly. “But even kings answer to reason. Celene was taken by professionals—who left no trail. If she were alive, we’d have found something by now.”

My fists clenched at my sides. They didn’t understand. They never had.

“You want me to abandon her.” The words tasted like poison.

“We want you to lead,” Varren snapped. “You are the last of your line. Without a queen, you appear weak—and other wolfs are watching for weaknesses to exploit.”

A growl rumbled low in my chest, my wolf bristling at the suggestion that my leadership was fragile.

But before I could respond, another voice cut through the tension.

“And the southern borders,” added Marcellus. “Rogue activity increases by the day. Two towns were raided last week. Our warriors are spread too thin chasing shadows.”

Elder Baelric chimed in. “Trade routes are in disarray and without alliances, the merchant guild threatens to raise the tariffs if we do not secure trade agreements soon. The economy slips while the people wait.”

Varren leaned forward. “The Vileclaw Pack grows bolder with each passing moon. Alpha Balthazar has not sworn his loyalty to you. He’s Watching for any sign of weakness.” His voice lowered. “If he challenges your rule, we could be facing a war before winter.”

I ground my teeth.

A kingdom unraveling, a sister missing and all they cared about was their titles, and their treaties.

“You expect me to sit on a throne and make promises while my sister’s out there—alone? In chains?”

“The kingdom suffers, too,” Marcellus said. “The people lose faith.”

I dug my fingers into the table, splintering the wood beneath my grip. My wolf bristled just under my skin, itching for blood.

Silence fell.

Then Rivas, calm and deliberate, spoke: “We expect you to be king.”

Her words rang through the room, heavy as judgment.

I stepped back from the table. My chair scraped across the stone.

“I’ll find her.”

“And if you don’t?” Varren asked.

I turned, voice like cold iron. “Then I’ll turn Noctshire upside down until I find her body.”

No one spoke after that.

“Dismissed,” I said.

They filed out quietly only Rivas lingered.

“Your Majesty,” she said softly. “Has your wolf ever longed for someone?”

I stiffened. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Not to fate,” she replied. “If he has… perhaps your future isn’t tied to the past but to what’s coming.”

Before I could answer, she turned and left, her robes whispering behind her.

I stood there for a moment, my wolf pacing, restless.

They wanted me to forget my sister, to claim a mate but I wasn’t done hoping.

Not yet.

The night air bit at my skin as I stepped onto the balcony. The forest below stretched into endless darkness, the scent of pine and night wind sharp in my lungs.

Footsteps behind me.

“The council still breathing down your neck?” Magnus asked with a chuckle.

I glanced at my Beta and best friend. He leaned against the rail, arms crossed, casual as always.

“They want me to find a mate,” I muttered.

Magnus snorted. “You? Mated? Poor girl. She wouldn’t survive a week.”

I shot him a look.

He grinned. “So, you still planning to chase clues until they chain you to a marriage contract?”

“There’s one last lead,” I said.

Magnus straightened. “The warehouse?”

I nodded. “Old tunnels, off the eastern edge. A few traders went missing. Someone’s covering tracks and it smells like money and power.”

Magnus hesitated. “It’s dangerous.”

“Exactly why I’m going.”

He sighed. “You really are a stubborn bastard. You know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

He pushed off the railing. “I’ll gather a small unit, if this goes sideways, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.”

As he left, I stared out across the dark treetops.

She was out there and I was running out of time.

Midnight.

We crept through alleys near the border, shadows curling along the city’s forgotten edges. The scent of rust and old coin clung to everything.

“This is it,” Magnus whispered. “Last reported movement came through here.”

The warehouse ahead slouched like a corpse, its wooden slats peeling. The air felt too still.

“You feel that?” he asked.

I nodded. My wolf growled low. The silence was wrong. This place reeked of secrets.

A whisper of doubt slid through my thoughts. Was this another dead end?

Then I caught it.

A scent. Barely there but familiar.

Celene.

My chest tightened.

Magnus noticed. “Cassius—?”

A noise cut through the dark. Low. Fragile. A whimper.

I moved.

My wolf surged forward. Claws itched beneath skin.

“Wait—” Magnus hissed.

“No time.”

"Move," I ordered Magnus, already stepping into the darkness.

Magnus cursed under his breath but followed.

The hunt had begun.