Chapter 52
The journey to Silver Lake Retreat took us through remote mountain terrain with breathtaking vistas. Riding in the lead vehicle, Luna Elena's voice pulled me from my troubled thoughts.
"The mountains have protected us for seventeen generations," Elena said, her fingers tracing patterns on the leather seat between us. "Few outside the bloodline even know this place exists."
I watched a golden eagle soar between rocky peaks, momentarily forgetting our predicament.
"Aurora," she said, her voice dropping lower, "there's something you should know about Marcus."
I turned toward her, alarmed by the worry etching lines around her eyes.
"His symptoms have returned, but I’m struggling to connect them to Giana directly," she confided, glancing briefly toward our driver to ensure he couldn't hear. "I've been watching her closely, but I can't catch her in the act."
My blood ran cold. "You think she's found another way to poison him?"
Elena's fingers twisted in her lap. I'm certain of it, but I’m just not sure how. His symptoms seem at their worst in the mornings, but then sometimes they’ll recur in the afternoon or before dinner. The symptoms are similar to before- tremors, his mind clouds, and his strength drains."
"Have you told Raymond?"
Pain flashed across her face. "He refuses to hear anything against her. The mate bond blinds him to what's happening right before his eyes."
The road narrowed as we climbed higher, pine forests giving way to spectacular views of a pristine lake nestled between towering peaks. The water shimmered like liquid silver in the afternoon light.
"There it is," Elena said with pride. "Silver Lake."
The retreat emerged like something from legend – a stunning estate with a main house of timber and stone overlooking the water, surrounded by private cabins nestled among ancient pines. Stone pathways wound between buildings, bordered by gardens filled with rare mountain flowers.
Elena took charge immediately upon arrival. "Aurora will take the cabin nearest ours," she instructed the housekeeper. "Delta Giana can have the pine cabin at the far edge of the property."
Giana's smile remained fixed, though her eyes hardened. "How thoughtful to give me such... privacy," she remarked, her sweet tone belied by the tension in her shoulders.
"The view from the pine cabin is particularly breathtaking," Elena replied smoothly. "Though perhaps a bit isolated for some tastes."
That evening's welcome dinner was served in the main house's grand dining room, a magnificent space with vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows framing the lake. Candlelight glinted off silver and crystal as servants moved silently around us.
"Aurora handled the Swift River crisis with remarkable poise," Elena announced, raising her glass. "You showed true Luna qualities during the attack."
I felt my cheeks warm at the praise, even as I noticed Giana attempting to interject with her own account of events.
"The diplomatic complexity of the situation required delicate navigation," Elena continued, smoothly talking over Giana's efforts. "Aurora's knowledge of traditional protocols prevented what could have been a serious diplomatic incident."
"I was merely following established procedures," I demurred, though secretly pleased by the acknowledgment.
"Precisely," Elena smiled. "Knowledge of those procedures is the foundation of leadership."
After dinner, Elena linked her arm through mine. "Come, I'd like to show you the grounds."
We walked through gardens that perfumed the night air with mountain herbs and flowers. Moonlight silvered the landscape, casting long shadows across carefully maintained paths.
"Silver Lake was built by the first Alpha of our line," Elena explained. "During the Great Wars, our family sheltered here, protected by ancient magic woven into the very foundations."
"Magic?" I asked, surprised. Such practices were rarely discussed in modern pack society.
"The old ways," Elena nodded, her eyes distant with memory. "Knowledge passed through generations of Lunas. Some traditions are too valuable to abandon, regardless of how the world changes around us."
As we returned to the main house, a crash from Alpha Marcus's study sent us running. We found him slumped against his desk, a broken glass at his feet, his hands trembling violently.
"Marcus!" Elena rushed to his side, supporting him as he struggled to stand.
"I'm fine," he insisted, though his ashen face told a different story. "Just a momentary weakness."
We helped him to his room, his steps unsteady, his breathing labored. The symptoms had returned with alarming severity despite our careful monitoring at Swift River.
Nearby on his desk, I noticed a bottle of cologne out of place. Curious, I picked it up, examining it, and wafting it to my nose. I froze, closing the bottle almost immediately as suspiciously sweet and out-of-place floral notes reached me.
My instincts and knowledge of herbology told me there was more to this cologne than meets the eye. “Have you used this cologne recently?” I inquired. Alpha Marcus blinked, somewhat disoriented, before confirming my suspicions, “Oh, yes. It’s quite addictive. I use it in the mornings, but then often add a dab in the afternoon, or before dinner.”
I quickly mixed up a temporary remedy before subtly collecting a small sample of the cologne while Elena kept Marcus's attention diverted.
Giana appeared in the doorway, her concerned expression perfectly crafted. "I could prepare a special tea to help him rest," she offered, stepping into the room uninvited.
"That won't be necessary," Elena replied, her tone arctic. "We have everything required."
Giana lingered, watching as I administered the herbal remedy, her eyes tracking every movement with calculating assessment. "If you're sure there's nothing I can do..." she persisted, her voice honey-sweet with artificial concern.
"Quite sure," Elena responded, physically positioning herself between Giana and Marcus. "Good night, Giana."
Later that night, alone in my cabin, I was jolted from sleep by familiar, searing pain radiating from Raymond's mark on my neck. The mate bond flared with agony, white-hot pain lancing through me. Despite the distance between Raymond and Giana, the bond's torment felt just as intense as ever, each pulse bringing fresh pain that stole my breath.
I tried meditation techniques, deep breathing, and herbal remedies from my emergency kit. Nothing helped. The pain only intensified, driving me to my knees beside the bed.
With trembling hands, I reached for the secure phone Elena had provided for emergencies. Kane answered on the first ring.
"Hello? Aurora?" His voice was alert despite the late hour. "Is that you?"
"The mate bond," I managed through clenched teeth. “I didn’t think it’d hurt if Gianna and Raymond were apart."
"Where are you?" The sudden tension in his voice made it clear he understood exactly what was happening.
"Silver Lake. Elena brought us here for safety."
"Good thinking," he said, professional concern firmly in place. "The rogues are still gathered at Blood Moon borders. You're safer there for now. As for the bond, Raymond and Giana must be expressing their passions despite the distance.”
“So, phone sex?” I managed to grit out.
“Probably. Just focus on me.” He urged me to redirect my attention.
As we talked, the pain began to recede slightly, my focus shifting from the agony to Kane's steady voice. Our conversation drifted gradually from security concerns to more personal matters.
"Try to concentrate on my voice," Kane suggested, his tone shifting to something deeper, more intimate. "Describe what you see around you. The details of your room, the view outside."
I found myself responding to his guidance, describing the moonlight on the lake, the scent of pine drifting through my window, the sound of night birds calling in the darkness.
"That's it," he encouraged softly. "Focus on those sensations, not on what the bond is transmitting. Feel the sheets beneath you, the air on your skin."
His voice became a lifeline, something to cling to as the pain ebbed and flowed. The intimacy of our conversation deepened as the night progressed, my defenses lowered by pain and vulnerability.
"Kane, I don't know how to handle this anymore," I confessed, surprised by my own honesty. "Everything is falling apart."
"Not everything," he replied, his voice a warm caress. "You're stronger than you realize, Aurora. I've never met anyone with your resilience."
By the time we ended the call, the mate bond's pain had subsided to a dull throb. I felt strangely vulnerable yet comforted, confused by the intensity of connection I'd felt with Kane despite the physical distance between us.
