Chapter 53

 ALPHA RUNE

I waited. I gathered. I watched the shadows lengthen across my territory, letting the silence of the pack house fuel my resolve. One thing I was certain of—certain down to the marrow of my bones—was that Tristan was hiding something. It wasn’t enough for me to conclude with absolute certainty that Sara was still alive, but it was enough to rouse my dormant suspicions and force me to look closer at the narrative I had been fed.

The truth was, even though I carried on with the desperate, bone-deep belief that Sara was alive, the tangible evidence did not support it. During my agonizing wait for answers, I had gone to see Yara, the wise healer of our pack. She was a woman who had seen centuries of wolf-blood spilled and mended, and she shared a frustratingly pragmatic viewpoint.

"But he himself said that only Sara Lockwood could heal him," I argued, my voice echoing off the stone walls of her infirmary. "If he is well and healthy now, it presupposes that Sara somehow returned to the Twilight Zone to heal him. There is no other logical path."

"Are you really listening to yourself, Rune?" Yara asked, a weak, knowing smile touching her lips. "Yes, he may have told you that only Sara could heal him, but the real question you should be asking is this: Is there truly a sickness in this world that only one specific person can heal? Or is that merely a story told to make the cure seem more precious?"

"So, are you saying it’s possible he was healed by someone else? That his recovery doesn't require Sara's presence?" I asked gently, though my heart rebelled against the thought.

"Yeah, that’s a big possibility," she clarified, her eyes filled with a pity I didn't want. "Tristan is a man of many layers. Do not let your hope blind you to his capacity for theater."

"I hear you, Yara. Believe me, I’ve had similar doubts myself. But in all of this, one thing remains constant: I believe Tristan is hiding something, and I’m not going to stop until I find out what it is." I stood up, the chair scraping harshly against the floor as I headed for the exit. I paused at the door, looking back. "Thank you for the other day. They may have put you up to checking on me, but you tried your best to be honest anyway."

"It’s good to have you back, Alpha," she said with a genuine smile. I left her cabin feeling a strange mix of clarity and cold fury.

When I returned to my pack house, Kayvon was waiting for me in my office. Ever since I ended my self-imposed six-month exile, I had made it a point to move around the territory each day. I needed to reassure the members of the Crescent Moon pack that their Alpha was still alive, still breathing, and still capable of leading. I knew word would soon spread to every corner of my empire, and those who had grown bold in my absence would soon understand how foolish their disloyalty had been.

"Kayvon, I wasn't expecting to find anyone in here," I muttered, shedding my heavy coat. I just wanted to retire for the day and rest, even though the sun was barely past its zenith. The weight of the world felt particularly heavy this afternoon.

"You were right to say that we should check the crash site again," Kayvon said, his voice buzzing with a frantic, nervous energy. "I don't know how we missed it initially—perhaps we were too blinded by the smoke and the blood—but I found something this time. Something small, but definitive."

"What did you find?" I asked, my exhaustion suddenly replaced by a sharp, predatory focus.

Kayvon reached into his pocket and brought out the evidence. It was a microscopic smear of iridescent residue, trapped inside a sterile glass vial. He didn’t need to say much; the acrid, metallic tang that drifted from the vial, even through the seal, told me everything I needed to know. It was a scent that didn't belong in nature.

I stared at the shimmering substance for a long while, my brow furrowed. I waited for him to explain the science of it, but he remained silent, likely assuming I had suddenly gained the ability to read minds during my hiatus.

"Okay, Kayvon, speak plainly. What am I looking at?"

"Oh, my bad," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "You are looking at an alchemical masking agent, Alpha. And not just any brew. This is Khalid’s signature. It’s a high-grade compound, the only way to make one wolf’s scent linger convincingly on another’s remains, especially through the heat of a fire."

"This Khalid... is he one of us?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous low.

"Yes. He’s a recluse, but he lives here, on the fringes of Crescent Moon territory."

"Are you certain it’s his signature? We have to be entirely sure before we act. I won't have innocent people caught in the crossfire of my vengeance."

"This is my forte, Rune," Kayvon bragged, his chest puffing out slightly. "I may not be an alchemist myself, but I’ve spent enough time in the underbelly of this world to know all the good ones in the area. I'd recognize that metallic floral scent anywhere. It’s his thumbprint."

"I see. Take me to his place," I murmured. I didn't wait for him to lead; I simply turned and exited the building, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin.

I didn't bother with a formal summons or a polite knock. I marched to Khalid’s small, vine-covered cottage on the outskirts of the territory, my footsteps heavy with the weight of six months of wasted mourning and misplaced grief. When we arrived, the house was silent. He wasn't there.