Marcus’ POVThe silence after the scream was worse than the scream itself.I stood in the hallway, fists clenched so tight my nails dug crescents into my palms. My ears rang. My vision tunneled. That sound...Naomi’s scream, broken, terrified, raw—was carved into my brain like a scar.“Where the fuck was she taken?” I growled, turning on Thomas, who had the misfortune of being the closest breathing thing.“We don’t know—yet,” he said, his voice too calm for my liking. “The scent trail—”“Find it.”“She disappeared outside the west entrance. No security footage. No guards saw anything. It’s like she vanished.”“People don’t vanish, Thomas,” I snapped. “Not my mate. Not on my land.”He didn’t reply, wisely.I inhaled through my nose. It was faint, almost gone, but still there—Naomi’s scent. Sweet like honey and pine, now laced with fear and wolfsbane.Wolfsbane.That explained the lack of struggle. The lack of noise before the scream.They drugged her.And they were still close.I turned
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