Chapter 31: Lucas’s Decision Lucas POV

The stillness between us stretched uncomfortably, and the air in Maia's tiny home felt oppressive. As though preparing for an approaching storm, Maia stood rigidly by the fireplace with her arms folded across her chest. Her face was smeared with tears, revealing the feelings she was trying so hard to hide.

With her voice quivering just enough to reveal her fear, Maia firmly stated, "She didn't tell me anything, Lucas. I have no idea where she is."

I took a step closer and narrowed my gaze. "You're lying, Maia. Do you not believe that I can tell?"

She winced but stayed motionless. "I'm telling the truth. Anna didn't even properly say goodbye. It was only after she had left that I realized she was going."

Inside me, anger simmered and threatened to explode. To steady myself, I balled my hands. "You want me to think she simply left without saying anything? She trusted you, Maia. You are the only one who knows where she has gone."

Her eyes darted to the window as if she were waiting for someone to break through it and save her from this exchange, and her lips formed a thin line. Her eyes were troubled, and I could see it. I wasn't Maia's enemy, but she did want to keep Anna safe.

She said in a lower voice, "She doesn't want to be found."

I strongly stated, "I'm not here to drag her back to Oliver. If anything, I'm trying to keep him from finding her. Please, Maia. Tell me where she went if you are worried about her and what will happen next."

Maia's determination faltered, and I could nearly see it happen. With a trembling sigh, she fell onto the side of the bed, her shoulders hunched in surrender.

With a voice hardly audible above a whisper, Maia admitted, "She didn't say much. However, I think she was moving west. Toward the Riverlands. She said she wanted to avoid Nightshade as much as possible."

The Riverlands—a vast, dangerous area of neutral land full of rejects and rogues. Anna wouldn't live long without help if she were going there.

Even though her words weighed heavily on my chest, I muttered, "Thank you," quietly.

It was packed quickly. I couldn't afford to bring too much, and I didn’t have much to take with me. A little bag of basics, enough to keep me going for a few days. I had strapped my reliable but battered guns to my sides.

It wasn’t as easy as I had anticipated to leave the pack grounds at night. Oliver had a broad reach, and I was aware that his spies were everywhere. I took slow, controlled steps at every turn. My ears strained for the smallest hint of movement as my keen senses searched the darkness.

It was so quiet in the woodland outside the pack grounds that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. The moon was low in the sky, and the forest floor was covered with long, jagged shadows as its weak light filtered through the thick canopy.

My mind raced as I pushed farther into the forest. Anna. I was always pulled ahead by the link, even when uncertainty tried to stop me. Somewhere out there, she was helpless and alone. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of her being exposed to the dangers of the Riverlands.

"What am I doing?" I kept thinking about the question, but the answer was always the same. I couldn’t deny my need and instinct to protect Anna; it wasn’t just a duty.

It took me hours to notice it—a little hint of her aroma hanging in the air. My heart jumped, and I froze, taking a deep breath. There was no missing it. Rain and lavender blended with the faint smell of the woodland.

I knelt down and pressed my hand to the ground. There wasn’t much of a trail, but it was sufficient. This is how she came.

The connection between us throbbed softly, pushing me on. I took careful, methodical steps as I followed the aroma as it wound through the trees. As I continued, the woodland seemed to get deeper, with the shadows extending as if they had their own life.

I remembered Anna and the look in her eyes when we last spoke. Pain, anger, and fear were all there, scarred into her face. I couldn’t blame her for not fully trusting me.

But whether she knew it or not, she needed me.

I followed the road to a clearing where the aroma intensified. My heartbeat accelerated as I looked about, my eyes flitting from one shadow to another. A well-traveled trail to the west was lit by the moonlight.

My voice was hardly heard as I whispered to myself, "She's close."

I became stiff as I heard a sudden rustle among the woods, and my hand immediately went to my blade's hilt. Every muscle in my body tightened like a spring as I turned slowly.

Nothing. Just the wind.

However, I couldn’t shake the sensation that I was being watched.

The westward trip was exhausting. The terrain seemed increasingly dangerous the farther I went into the bush. The ground was slippery with mud from a recent rain, roots twisted like skeletal fingers, and rocks protruded at strange angles.

I continued despite the difficulties, the connection dragging me along like an unseen thread. When my body begged for rest, the thought of Anna being alone out here gave me strength.

I smelled her scent once again as the sky turned pink and gold with the coming of morning. Fresher, stronger this time. My boots crunched on the woodland floor as I increased my pace and clenched my chest.

She was near.

The ground was covered in dappled patterns of light and shade as the sun's rays went through the trees. The typical hum of wildlife was replaced by an unsettling silence as if the forest were holding its breath.

The aroma led me to a small brook that sliced through the trees. The surface of the water shimmered in the early morning light as it gurgled softly.

There was only one footprint on the muddy bank. Tiny and fragile. She owned it.

My fingers brushed the mark on the ground as I bent down, my heart thumping. She had visited this place. Recently.

The sound of her name grounding me, I mumbled, "Anna."

I followed the track farther into the forest, where the trees grew higher and the air was stronger with the smell of moss and wet dirt. Every action and sound was heightened, and my senses were on high alert.

Then I heard it. A small rustle up ahead, then the gentle crunch of leaves beneath someone's feet.

I slowed my steps, being careful not to make any noise, as my heart raced.

Our connection throbbed more strongly now, a constant pulse that echoed deep within me.

The aroma became overwhelming as I turned a bend in the path, my breath catching in my throat.