Inside the Luxarcane tower, the silence after the call didn't feel like peace.
It felt like pressure building behind glass.
Kael Draven Viremont still stood in front of the darkened screen, unmoving.
His hands were clenched behind his back, but only barely. Anyone looking closely would notice it wasn't calmness he was holding onto—it was restraint.
Something had changed during that call.
And it wasn't data.
It was instinct.
Behind him, one of the assistants finally spoke carefully. "President… should we proceed with expanded scans immediately?"
Kael didn't answer right away.
Because he still felt it too.
That pull.
That… wrongness.
Finally, he spoke, voice lower than before. "Increase surveillance across all urban clusters. Prioritize hospitals. Emergency centers. Any abnormal physiological reports."
A pause.
Then—sharper: "And send it directly to me. No delays."
"Yes, sir."
But Kael didn't sit.
He didn't relax.
Because something about the kings' reaction… had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
They weren't just observing anymore.
They were feeling.
___
The Corvius domain no longer felt calm.
It felt like a throne room holding its breath.
Fenrir was the first to break again, but this time his voice wasn't only frustration—it was something sharper underneath.
"I still can't feel her wolf."
A pause.
Then, more controlled but tighter:
"That is not normal. Not after a century bond lock."
Cernunnos's gaze darkened slightly. "If her wolf is suppressed this severely… then she has been enduring it for a long time."
Erebos's expression shifted—subtle, but enough for the others to notice.
"…Or someone has been starving her spirit."
Silence followed that.
Not empty silence.
Heavy silence.
Theron's eyes narrowed slowly. His voice came lower than before.
"The signal is not just weak."
A pause.
"…It is damaged."
That word changed the atmosphere instantly.
Fenrir's head lifted sharply. "Damaged?"
Theron nodded once.
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then—
"…like something is pulling her apart instead of letting her exist fully."
---
For the first time, Fenrir's composure cracked.
A low, dangerous sound left him—half growl, half disbelief.
"No."
He stepped forward.
"That's impossible."
His eyes darkened.
"She is our queen."
The words came out sharper now, filled with something raw.
"Our mate bond does not allow this level of collapse unless—"
He stopped.
Because he didn't want to say it.
But Cernunnos said it anyway, quietly.
"Unless she is being broken."
---
The air shifted instantly.
Erebos's aura darkened.
Theron's gaze sharpened.
Fenrir's hands clenched hard enough for veins to rise beneath his skin.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Then Fenrir exhaled slowly, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower—but trembling with controlled rage.
"If she is suffering like this…"
A pause.
His eyes lifted slightly.
"…while we have been searching for a century…"
Something inside him snapped into focus.
Not control.
Not calculation.
Emotion.
"I will tear every realm apart."
---
Cernunnos didn't stop him this time.
Instead, his expression softened—just slightly. Not weakness. Recognition.
"…We have finally found her."
That sentence landed heavily.
Fenrir's head turned sharply.
Erebos went still.
Theron's eyes narrowed slightly—but even he didn't deny it.
Cernunnos continued, quieter now.
"Our queen."
A pause.
Then—
"…after a hundred years of silence."
---
For a moment, something unspoken passed between them.
Relief.
Sharp and dangerous relief.
But it did not last.
Because immediately after it came something heavier.
Fear.
Fenrir's voice dropped, rough now. "If we finally found her…"
He didn't finish immediately.
His jaw tightened.
"…and she is like this?"
Silence.
The meaning was clear.
Finding her meant nothing if she was already fading.
---
Erebos's gaze darkened further.
"…Then someone will answer for it."
Simple words.
But absolute.
Cernunnos nodded once. "Agreed."
Theron's voice followed—low, steady, but no less intense.
"We retrieve her immediately."
Fenrir didn't argue.
Not this time.
Instead, his voice came out quieter—strained, almost unrecognizable from his usual dominance.
"I don't care what state she is in…"
A pause.
His eyes tightened slightly.
"…but I will not lose her again."
That last sentence carried something deeper than command.
It carried fear.
---
For a brief moment, even Erebos looked away slightly.
Not weakness.
Something older.
Memory.
"…We failed once," Erebos said quietly.
Silence deepened.
He continued, voice lower.
"We will not fail again."
---
Theron stepped forward slightly, gaze fixed.
"…Then we stop waiting."
Fenrir's eyes sharpened. "We move now."
Cernunnos nodded. "All regions. Full search escalation."
Erebos's voice followed, colder again but now charged.
"Every Alpha. Every network. Every territory."
A pause.
Then—
"Bring her home."
---
Fenrir exhaled slowly.
But the anger in him didn't fade.
It burned steadier now.
Controlled.
Focused.
Deadlier.
"…If she is this weak," he said quietly, almost to himself, "then I want to know what they did to her."
Cernunnos's gaze sharpened. "And we will."
Theron's voice followed softly.
"…Every answer will be extracted."
---
For the first time in a century, the four kings were no longer searching in theory.
No longer waiting in silence.
No longer hoping.
They had found something.
And it was fragile.
Too fragile.
Fenrir's voice dropped one final time, quieter than all the rest—but filled with something dangerous.
"…Our queen is not safe."
A pause.
Then—
"And whoever did this…"
His eyes darkened completely.
"…will regret we ever found her."
____
Human Realm — Hospital Emergency Wing
Selene was rushed through the hospital corridors.
Bright lights. Fast footsteps. Medical voices overlapping.
"Blood pressure dropping slightly—"
"IV fluids immediately!"
"Prepare diagnostic scan—unknown fainting cause!"
Lili stood outside the emergency doors, hands trembling slightly now that she wasn't holding Selene anymore.
For the first time, her voice broke when she spoke.
"She doesn't just faint like this…"
She swallowed.
"…something is wrong."
Inside the room, Selene lay still under harsh lighting.
Unconscious.
Unaware.
Unprotected.
And somewhere far beyond anything human
—
something ancient responded to that fragility.
Not with distance.
Not with silence.
But with urgency.