Chapter 81

Soren

I hold a towel to my head, drying off the damp strands of hair as a beads of water roll down the back of my neck. With one quick glance into the bathroom mirror, I catch a glimpse of my appearance, knowing that Celia is bound to make some comment or hide beneath the sheets of the bed with her cheeks all pink and flustered. A smile begins to form across my face as I push open the bathroom door.

I stepped into the bedroom, continuing to dry my hair with the damp towel, and look around. The room is empty. It is empty and quiet, and it leaves a slightly unsettling feeling in my chest.

Where did Celia go? Where could she have possibly gone?

I move further into the bedroom, my head on a swivel as I look around to spot my faded mate. Celia is simply nowhere to be found.

An unsettling feeling begins to fester in the depths of my chest. I poke my head around the room, checking the walk in closet and the hidden areas next to the hallway. My feet pounded against the floor as I begin to search the surrounding area.

I walk down the halls and check every single room that I come across, leaving the doors open, so I know that I had already searched them to not waste my time. Celia's name leaves my lips with a hope that she will hear me and come running back to assure me that she is fine and okay. When she doesn't return my call, though, that is when I begin to worry.

Where could she possibly gone? There's only so many places to run or hide to, it is overwhelming to think that Celia has somehow disappeared from the vicinity of the Duke's house.

I stop at the end of the hall. I close my eyes and slowly sucking a deep breath, filling up my lungs with as much air as possible. I hold it there for a few moments, calling upon my inner wolf to try and seek out Celia.

I do not smell the familiar fate smell of honeysuckle and storm wind. My wolf cannot feel her wolf’s presence, absent from our minds. I repeat the process all over again, hoping for a different outcome, just for it to come back the exact same as before.

Celia… Where are you? Where could you have gone?

I walk into the main living areas of the Duke’s home. Typically, there are soldiers posted throughout the room at every single entrance of the house, but none of them seem to be there. The room is eerily silent, and it leaves me feeling even more unsettled than before, goosebumps slowly raising against the entirety of my skin.

I slowly walk around the room. I taken every corner in crevice, I look at the floorboards to see if there are any hints of a struggle, desperately trying to see if there is anything out of place.

I moved behind the couch of the shared living space. I rested my hands on the headrest, fingers digging into the fabric of the couch, fingers turning white from the pressure. My eyes do one last scan of the room, looking to see if there is anything, even the smallest and most detail, out of place.

That's when I spot it. That is when I spot the soldier's boot poking out from behind the hallway.

My body runs cold. My mind goes blank, entering a state of fight or flight in an instant. I slowly cross the distance to the familiar side of the boot. The closer I get, the realization dawns on me that somehow, someway, Bianca found us and now she has Celia.

The boot belongs to an unconscious soldier. His body is sprawled out across the hallway. I use my foot to kick his, trying to see if he is awake or will move, but it turns out that his rest is permanent instead of temporary.

I quickly rush out of the house, breaking into the dusk air, the breeze cold on my burning hot skin. My entire body feels like it is on fire, my emotions running high, slow slowly, overwhelming, my senses, unable to accept the fact that Celia is not here.

Where could she have gone? That is the one question that lingers on my mind, haunting my every thought as I search the nearby grassy areas all around the house. There are no muddy footprints, nor are there any signs or dead giveaways of Celia fighting back against her captors.

I should have been here for her. I should have let her join me for my shower when she originally offered. At least then, I would know that she is safe and OK and is away from Bianca and her rogue gallery of werewolf soldiers.

I move away from the back porch of the house, quickly traversing down the wooden stairs, my bare feet, finally touching the green grass of the backyard. My nose picks up on the familiar scent of honeysuckle. It is light, airy, just faint enough for me to pick up on. My feet slowly carry me towards the garden that sits just to the side of the house.

My gaze drifts up to an intimidating, looking scarecrow, its eyes, black and beauty, sending chills down my spine. I slowly look down at its chest, noticing a piece of white paper, as well as a knife stabbed into its body. I close the distance between me and the scarecrow, reaching up to grab the cool hilt of the knife, plucking it free from the scarecrow, and catching the paper that falls from its body.

I slowly open it up, my heart pounding inside of my chest. I recognize Bianca's handwriting almost immediately, the way she writes in red ink, never allowing me the full sense of peace, always wondering if it is just a red pen or something much worse.

I slowly suck in a breath, closing my eyes for a brief moment. My fingers grip the paper, knuckles, turning white. Finally, I open my eyes, exhaling, and taking in the contents of the letter Bianca left behind.

Soren,

I have that pretty little Lycan princess of yours. I have taken her from you just as she and you have taken my future away from me.

The time is right and now you must make a choice.

Will you choose me? Will you choose the happiness that I am sure to give you for the rest of our lives?

Or will you choose Celia, forever sealing her fate in the ground where I will bury you right next to her?

Choices, choices.

Meet me at this address with your answer in a weeks time.

Bianca

My eyes move to the address on the paper. I recognize it. It is deep within Lycan territory, somewhere near the capital. That is all I know of, though.

The paper crumbles in my hand. I turn my attention towards the night sky, the last glimpse of pinks and oranges. I clear out the colors, not understanding why something as dire like this had to happen to me.

I will get Celia back. I will get her back even if it is the last thing I do.