Missing

“Why are you the one serving our dinner? Where is Amara?” Darius asked, clearly confused about why a maid was serving him dinner, something that had never happened in the past ten years.

The maid hesitated for a moment before responding. “Amara has been out of the mansion since noon,” she announced, prompting Darius’s eyes to widen as he immediately stood up.

“What? What did you just say?” he demanded, asking the maid to repeat her words.

The maid swallowed in fear, her lips trembling as she spoke. “She left the mansion over five hours ago.”

“Did she say where she was going?” he asked worriedly.

But the maid shook her head, having no knowledge of Amara’s whereabouts at all.

Consumed with panic, Darius left the table and went to the guard at the gate. He asked about Amara’s whereabouts, and the guard told him that Amara had only mentioned going for a stroll and hadn’t returned since.

“Damn it,” Darius grunted, running a hand through his hair. He was extremely worried because Amara had never been out of the mansion for so long. She only left the mansion to go to school or shopping with Luna Anita.

And realizing that she was still outside despite it being past 7:00 p.m. frightened him. He began to panic.

“Go ask Damon. Perhaps he might have an idea of where she is,” Darius’s wolf suggested, and he thought it wasn’t a bad idea.

Reaching Damon’s room, Darius hesitated as he recalled their argument at the dining table hours ago. He knew he needed to talk to Damon, and he had been thinking of doing so after dinner.

Inhaling deeply, he decided not to knock, because he knew Damon might send him away, so he just pushed the door open and stepped in.

What he saw made his brow furrow, and a frown appeared on his face. Damon was lying on the bed.

“Damon,” Darius called as he stepped forward.

Hearing Darius’s voice in his room made Damon slightly open his eyes and look in Darius’s direction.

“Are you okay?” Darius asked. He moved closer and touched Damon’s forehead, only to realize that Damon was running a very high fever.

“You’re unwell. Why didn’t you send for a healer?” Darius said worriedly, forgetting about Amara’s disappearance.

Damon groaned and struggled to sit up on the bed, his whole body shivering while his wolf howled angrily in his head due to the rejection he had just faced with Amara.

“I’ll have to call the healer,” Darius said, concern deepening on his face.

But Damon shook his head in disapproval. He knew sending for a healer was a big risk—the healers would easily detect what was wrong with him, and he wanted no one to know about it.

“Why are you here, Darius?” Damon said harshly, but Darius didn’t take it to heart.

“I need to get the healer—” Darius tried to speak but was cut off by Damon.

“I told you, I’m fine. Just tell me why you’re here,” he demanded angrily.

For a moment, Darius didn’t say a word. He just stared at his brother, wondering why he was so angry.

Damon wasn’t still upset about their fight at the table, was he?

“If you don’t have anything to say, please leave my room and close the door,” Damon instructed, trying to lie back on the bed.

But Darius’s words stopped him.

“Amara is missing,” Darius announced, causing Damon’s brow to furrow.

“What do you mean Amara is missing?” Damon asked, pulling the blanket off his body.

“The servant said she left hours ago for a stroll and hasn’t returned. No one knows where she went,” Darius said worriedly.

Damon’s expression hardened as Darius’s words sank in. Without hesitation, he threw the blanket aside and swung his legs off the bed. Despite his obvious fever and weakened state, Damon moved swiftly, reaching for a shirt hanging on the back of a chair. His hands trembled slightly as he slipped it on, but his face showed nothing but concern.

Darius watched in surprise, his concern deepening.

“Damon, you’re sick. You should be in bed, not out looking for her. I can handle this,” he said, trying to convince his brother to stay.

Damon ignored him, buttoning up the shirt with shaky fingers. “We’re wasting time, Darius. Let’s go find her,” he said flatly, his voice coarse from both fever and frustration.

“Damon, wait.” Darius grabbed his brother’s arm, trying to stop him. “Why do you care so much? I thought you couldn’t stand her. You’ve never shown any concern for her before. So why now? You’re sick, and it doesn’t make sense for you to push yourself like this. What’s really going on?”

Damon stiffened, his expression unreadable as he glanced at his brother. For a brief moment, something flashed in his eyes—something like guilt or fear—but he quickly masked it with a cold look.

“This has nothing to do with her,” he lied smoothly. “I’m worried about our mother. You know how she is. If she finds out Amara is missing, she’ll start to panic. And I can’t see that.”

Darius’s brow furrowed as he studied his brother’s face, sensing there was more to the story than Damon was letting on. But before he could press further, Damon yanked his arm free and headed for the door.

“We don’t have time for this, Darius,” Damon said, his tone clipped as he tried to mask the pain from his fever. “Let’s just find her before it gets any later.”

Darius hesitated, still unsure about his brother’s sudden concern, but he knew there was no point in arguing. With a sigh, he followed his brother out of the room.

The two moved quickly through the mansion, with Damon leading the way. Despite his obvious illness, Darius could see the strain on his brother’s face—the way his steps faltered slightly now and then—but he didn’t say anything. He could tell that Damon was worried for Amara, even if he was too stubborn to admit it.

As they reached the main hall, Darius couldn’t help but glance at his brother again.

“Damon, if you’re doing this for Mom, you would have sent someone else to search. Why are you pushing yourself?”

Damon paused for a split second, then glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing.

“Because,” he said coldly, “I don’t trust anyone else to handle this. We need to find her before anyone else knows she’s missing.”

With that, he turned away, pushing open the mansion’s front gate and stepping out into the cool night air. Inhaling deeply, Damon caught a whiff of Amara’s scent and began leading the way.

“Where are we going?” Darius asked.

But Damon couldn’t tell him that his wolf was guiding him to Amara’s whereabouts. If he did, Darius would suspect something.

“Just follow me. I think I know where she’ll be,” Damon said.

Darius wasn’t convinced but decided to follow Damon’s direction because he knew his brother was smart.

Amara’s scent led Damon to a bar. Damon frowned, wondering why Amara was there. Her scent continued to lead him, and Darius, clearly confused and worried now, followed behind his brother closely.

The scent led Damon to a building that was the home of the Beta.

“Amara’s here,” Damon spoke out, clearly confused.

He was puzzled as to why Amara would be in the Beta’s house. As far as he knew, the Beta had two daughters, Benita and Agatha, and Amara wasn’t friends with them.

The Beta’s son, Austin.

Damon’s eyes widened as he thought of Austin.

“Damn it, Amara’s here,” he grunted, barging into the Beta’s apartment with Darius following close behind.

As they reached the main living area, Agatha, the Beta’s daughter, stood by the kitchen, startled by their sudden presence.

“Damon, Darius, what are you doing here?” Agatha asked, her voice a mix of surprise and concern as she eyed the two brothers.

“We’re looking for Austin,” Damon said, his tone sharp and impatient. “Where is he?”

Agatha’s expression faltered, and she hesitated before responding. “I—I don’t know. He left a while ago,” she stammered.

But Damon wasn’t convinced. His sharp senses had already caught a faint whiff of Amara’s scent lingering in the air.

Ignoring Agatha’s words, he pushed past her, heading toward the stairs. Darius, still unsure of what was happening, exchanged a worried glance with Agatha before following his brother.

“Damon, what are you doing? Why would Amara be here?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion.

Damon didn’t respond. His focus was solely on Amara’s scent, which grew stronger as he ascended the stairs. His wolf grew more agitated with every step, pushing him to move faster.

The smell led him straight to a door at the end of the hallway. Without hesitation, Damon threw the door open, his heart pounding in his chest as his worst fears were realized.

There, on the bed, was Austin—shirtless and looming over Amara, who was pinned beneath him.