Chapter 48

ALPHA RUNE 

The engine of the SUV hummed with a low, predatory growl as we crossed the heavily fortified border into Silvermoon territory. Beside me, Carmen remained silent, her eyes scanning the neutral landscape with the practiced precision of a seasoned general. I felt a strange, electric vibration in my chest—the first time in six long months that my blood didn't feel like stagnant sludge.

Silvermoon was a crossroads, a neutral hub where Alphas from across the continent met to trade, negotiate, and settle disputes. Alpha Damon, a man known for his incredible diplomatic agility, met us at the iron gates of his estate. His surprise was palpable; he looked at me as if he were seeing a ghost that had finally decided to haunt the living after half a year of silence.

Alpha Damon was an elderly Alpha, and he carried himself with the deliberate grace of his years. He had been close friends with Tristan's father back in the day and had made the strategic decision not to get involved during the all-pack war a few years ago. He had declared absolute neutrality and had maintained it ever since, transforming his lands into a sanctuary.

Over time, Silvermoon became a safe haven for everyone. No crime was permitted within the city walls. If you were a criminal, you were immediately extradited to face your crimes after a thorough investigation had been completed.

"Alpha Rune," Damon said, bowing his head respectfully as we stepped onto the gravel. "This is a rare honor indeed. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the Conqueror himself?"

Initially, many leaders—myself included—didn't like the idea of a neutral zone, but I respected the man. He had come to Crescent Moon personally to explain his vision and seek my counsel before he officially announced his neutrality. It was a rare privilege and honor, especially when you consider the fact that he had been an Alpha long before I was even conceived in my mother's womb.

"We’re not here for pleasure, Damon," I said, my voice sounding like grinding stones.

He must have noted the lethal seriousness of my presence from my tone alone. He led us into a sleek, modern, glass-walled office that overlooked the moon-drenched valley below. After the obligatory round of expensive, high-altitude whiskey, I leaned forward, my hands clasped tightly between my knees.

"What can I do for you, Rune? I noticed the heavy urgency in your voice," Damon said. His eyes lit up with curiosity. It was the first time I had ever asked him for a favor, and he was clearly eager to be of assistance.

"I recently lost someone very dear to me," I began. I knew it was not wise to reveal my full suspicions just yet, just in case his old loyalties to Tristan’s bloodline still held sway. I wouldn't have blamed him for it, but I couldn't risk the leak.

"You mean the girl you were searching for a few months back?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow, surprised that the information had reached him. "Don't be surprised, Rune. You are the Alpha Conqueror. I think the whole world would hear of it even if you merely sneezed in your sleep."

I scoffed, the sound bitter. "Yes, I lost her," I muttered. The word "lost" felt like a jagged lie, but it was the only one I could use for now. "A girl. I have reason to believe she passed through your territory approximately six months ago. I'm trying to understand exactly what went wrong. I am searching for closure, Damon."

Damon sighed, his expression softening into one of those practiced, diplomatic pities that Alphas used at funerals. "I was aware of your search, Rune. We all heard the reports of the tragic accident on the highway. I am truly sorry for your loss. The whole region mourned the tragedy." He remained silent for a while, studying me. "This girl... can you describe her for me?"

"Descriptions can be deceptive in our world," I countered, ignoring his condolences. "But let's see... it's possible she passed through here. Petite, with a heart-shaped face. She has titan-colored hair—like a fire burning in the dark—and eyes that are blue like the color of a winter sky. A fiery spirit, but housed in a curvy, delicate frame."

Damon leaned back in his leather chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "That could describe a hundred girls in this territory, Rune. We get travelers and refugees from all over. I remember a petite girl with blue eyes passing through recently, but I can’t quite place the face in my memory. Do you have a photo?"

I didn't have one on me, but I knew Kayvon did. I pulled out my phone and dialed my tech commander immediately. "Send the digital file of the Lockwood girl to Damon's terminal. Do it now."

A second later, Damon’s desktop chimed with a notification. He opened the file, and Sara’s face—her real face, full of vibrant life and defiance—lit up the large screen.

Damon froze, his breath hitching. "Ah. Yes. I remember her now."

The fire in my blood burned hotter, turning to liquid rage. "Tell me everything," I demanded, the temperature in the room seemingly dropping ten degrees.

"She was here..." Damon confirmed, but then he trailed off, as if he were trying to reconcile two different memories. "I remember speaking to her briefly. She was scared and clearly needed help, but..." He trailed off again, frowning.

"But what?" Carmen asked, her patience snapping as the suspense became too much to bear.

"I remember something was very off because her 'Madame' claimed she was unstable and wanted her locked in the dungeon. Yes, they claimed she had a rare, infectious strain of mad cow disease to keep people away from her." He sounded more confident now as the details clicked into place.

At that, Carmen shared a sharp, knowing look with me. "So she was definitely here?" she repeated, wanting the verbal confirmation on record.

"Yes, but she wasn't treated as a guest. She was in the company of Yvonne, Alpha Tristan’s Right Hand. The girl was dressed as a common servant—no, more like a slave, really. She wasn't allowed to speak a single word. They stayed for a few nights, but they left in a frantic, panicked hurry after Yvonne received word that Tristan had been critically injured during a skirmish with the Moonshadow pack."

My heart hammered against my ribs like a caged beast. "They left Silvermoon together?"

"Yes," Damon said firmly. "In a black armored transport. They were heading straight for the Twilight Zone."

"Thank you for your time, Damon," I said slowly as my mind began to race through the tactical implications. "If you don't mind, I have one small request to make of you."

"You are the Conqueror; consider it done," Alpha Damon said, waving a hand dismissively.

"I have to be back in the Crescent Moon fortress within the hour. I'd love to make use of your private chopper to save time."

"A small request indeed. Let me personally escort you to the helipad. It's on the rooftop," Damon offered, standing up.

"Also, you can keep the SUV we arrived in. It’s a gift from me to you for your honesty," I offered. Damon's smile broadened.

"Thank you, Rune. That's a generous gift for an old man."

The flight back to the Crescent Moon fortress was a chaotic blur of tactical calculations and mounting fury. By the time the skids touched the pad, Zita was already waiting for us in the war room, her face illuminated by the glow of the holographic maps.

"I did a deep-cover electronic sweep of the Twilight Zone compound, Alpha," Zita reported, her face looking grim under the harsh lights. "There is no visible sign of Sara Lockwood. There is no scent match in the common areas, and there is no record of her in the official servant registries. If she’s there, she’s buried deeper than a state secret."

"She’s not there, Rune. That's probably because she's actually dead." Carmen sighed, looking at me with eyes full of unwanted pity. "Rune, maybe the accident was real. Maybe she really didn't make it out of that car."

She had tried to make conversation on our way here, attempting to ascertain what was going on through my mind, but the deafening noise of the chopper had made it impossible. Now, she was voicing the doubt I refused to entertain.

"No," I said, turning to the digital map of the highway crash site. "Zita, forget searching for Sara’s name. Look for Yvonne’s travel history."

Carmen frowned, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why Yvonne? We know she’s alive; she’s been seen publicly at Tristan's side for the last few months."

"Exactly!" I said, my eyes narrowing into lethal slits. "Think about the logistics, Carmen. Damon says they were together. They left Silvermoon in the same vehicle. Then that vehicle goes over a cliff and bursts into flames. But the forensic report from the crash site only identified one body. One set of charred remains."

Carmen’s eyes widened as the realization finally hit her. "If they were in the same car, and only one body was found..."

"Then either Yvonne died and Sara lived, or Sara died and Yvonne lived," I finished, my voice trembling with the sheer weight of the logic. "But we know for a fact that Yvonne is alive. She’s at Tristan’s side. So who was the body in the car? Let's not forget that Zita reported that Tristan is currently healthy and ruling his pack. This is the same Tristan who confessed that Sara was the only person on earth who could heal him. If he’s healthy, she had to have been there to save him. Again, it begs the question: who was in that car?"

"A decoy," Carmen whispered, her voice barely audible. "A sacrificial lamb to make the world stop looking for a missing healer."

"I see where you are going with this, but is it possible that Yvonne healed Tristan and then killed Sara herself?" Zita asked softly, playing the devil's advocate. "Maybe she got rid of her to eliminate the evidence?"

I slammed my fist onto the tactical table, the holographic map flickering from the impact. "Tristan is possessive and paranoid. Based on everything we know about his history, he wouldn't let a woman like Sara out of his sight, especially if he thought she was the only one who could keep him standing. If Yvonne made it back to that pack house alive, then Sara made it back too. She’s hidden, or she’s being kept as a secret toy. But she is not ash."

I looked at my commanders, my wolf finally standing tall in my mind, baring its teeth at the thought of her in Tristan's hands.

"Zita, find out exactly where Yvonne spends every second of her time. I want her schedule, her heart rate, and her GPS coordinates. Carmen, prepare the elite vanguard and the stealth units. Tristan played a clever game, but he forgot one thing." I looked at the scrap of blue silk in my hand, the fabric feeling like a holy relic. "I don't stop until the world is mine. And she... she is my entire world."

I turned back to the screen, the image of Sara Lockwood staring back at me. "Hold on, Sara. The Conqueror is coming to burn the Twilight Zone to the ground."