I ran through the pack territory, my heart pounding with every step. The afternoon sun was warm on my face, but I felt nothing but cold dread.
Mira was gone. The sweet girl who'd trusted me with her fears, who'd hugged me like I was family, who'd been so scared of the shadows that followed her—she was gone, and there was blood on her floor.
The command hut was chaos when I arrived. Warriors crowded around the central table, maps spread out before them, voices overlapping in urgent discussion. Damon stood at the head, his face carved from stone, issuing orders in a voice that cut through the noise like a blade.
Caleb was there too, leaning over a map, pointing at locations along the border. He looked up when I entered, and for just a moment, our eyes met. Then he looked away, his expression carefully blank.
"Luna." Damon gestured me forward. "Good. We need your insight."
I moved to stand beside him, grateful for something to focus on besides the ache in my chest. "What do we know?"
"Not enough." Caleb's voice was clipped, professional. "Mira's hut was empty when her mother went to check on her this morning. Signs of struggle—overturned furniture, scattered belongings. Blood on the floor near the door." He paused. "Enough blood to suggest she didn't go willingly."
My stomach turned. "Have you found a trail?"
"Faint. It leads toward the northern border, then disappears." Caleb's jaw tightened. "Whoever took her knew what they were doing. They covered their tracks well."
"Red Claw." The name tasted like poison on my tongue.
Damon nodded grimly. "Almost certainly. They've been probing our defenses for weeks. Now they've taken one of our own." His eyes met mine. "This changes things."
"How?"
"Before, they were testing us. Seeing how we'd react. Now they've made a direct strike. If we don't respond—if we don't get her back—it'll be seen as weakness. Other packs will hesitate to ally with us. The Red Claw will grow bolder." He slammed his fist on the table. "We have to find her. And we have to make them pay."
The room erupted in agreement, warriors voicing their support, their thirst for vengeance. I understood it—felt it myself. But beneath the anger was fear. If they'd taken Mira, what would stop them from taking others? From taking me?
"Elara." Damon's voice cut through my thoughts. "You knew her best. Did she say anything in the days before she disappeared? Any detail about who might be following her?"
I thought back, trying to remember every conversation. "She said she felt watched. Heard footsteps at night. I told her not to walk alone, to ask someone to go with her." Guilt twisted in my chest. "I should have done more. I should have—"
"Stop." Caleb's voice was firm. "This isn't your fault. You did what you could. The fault lies with whoever took her."
I looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his voice. For a moment, the professional mask slipped, and I saw the man beneath—the one who'd held me, who'd saved me, who'd kissed me back for just a heartbeat before pushing me away.
Then Damon spoke, and the moment shattered.
"Caleb, take a team to the northern border. Follow the trail as far as you can. Finn, organize patrols along the eastern and western perimeters. If they try to move her, I want to know." He turned to me. "Elara, stay here. Coordinate with Marta—if Mira's injured, we'll need healers ready."
"I can help with the search—"
"No." His voice was final. "You're still recovering. And if something happened to you..." He didn't finish the sentence, but I saw the fear in his eyes.
I wanted to argue, but I knew it would be useless. So I just nodded and watched as the warriors filed out, leaving me alone with my guilt and my fear.
The day stretched into an eternity.
I tried to keep busy—organizing supplies, checking on the other wounded, doing anything to keep my mind occupied. But every few minutes, I found myself staring toward the northern border, waiting for news.
None came.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and red, I couldn't take it anymore. I left the healing hut and walked toward the edge of the territory, needing to be closer, needing to feel like I was doing something.
The forest was quiet—too quiet. Even the birds seemed to sense that something was wrong. I followed the path toward the northern border, my heart pounding with every step.
I'd almost reached the sentry post when I heard voices.
I stopped, pressing myself against a tree, listening.
"—can't find anything. It's like she vanished into thin air." That was Finn's voice, frustrated and tired.
"She didn't vanish. Someone took her, and they had help." Caleb's voice, grim. "These tracks were covered deliberately. By someone who knows our territory."
"You think there's a traitor in the pack?"
A long pause. "I think we can't rule anything out."
I stepped out from behind the tree, and both of them turned, hands going to their weapons. When they saw it was me, they relaxed—slightly.
"Luna." Caleb's voice was careful. "You shouldn't be out here."
"I couldn't stay in the territory doing nothing." I moved closer, my eyes searching his face. "Any news?"
He shook his head, and something in his expression made my heart clench. "The trail ends at the river. They took her across, and after that..." He spread his hands. "Nothing."
"Then we cross the river. We keep searching."
"Elara." He used my name, not my title, and the familiarity of it made my breath catch. "It's too dangerous. If we cross into Red Claw territory without knowing what we're facing, we could be walking into a trap."
"Then we walk carefully." I stepped closer to him, close enough to see the exhaustion in his eyes, the worry lines around his mouth. "Caleb, she's one of ours. We can't just leave her."
"I know." His voice was soft, pained. "I know. But I won't risk more lives without a plan. Damon's calling a war council tonight. We'll figure out the next move then."
I wanted to argue, but I knew he was right. So I just nodded and fell into step beside him as we walked back toward the pack.
Finn walked ahead, giving us a semblance of privacy. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
"Caleb." I kept my voice low. "About the other day. About what happened in your hut—"
"Don't." He cut me off, but his voice wasn't angry. It was pained. "Please. I can't think about that right now. I can't think about anything except finding Mira."
"I understand." And I did. "But we need to talk about it eventually."
"Eventually." He glanced at me, and for just a moment, I saw everything in his eyes—the longing, the guilt, the desperate hope. "But not tonight."
We walked the rest of the way in silence.
The war council was held in the Alpha's hut, crowded with warriors and elders. Damon presided, his face carved from stone, his voice steady as he laid out the options.
"We can't launch a full-scale assault. We don't know their numbers, their position, or if Mira is even still alive." He pointed to the map. "But we can send a small team—scouts, to locate their camp. Once we know where she is, we plan a rescue."
"I'll lead the team." Caleb's voice was immediate, certain.
Damon looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I expected you'd say that. Take Finn and two others. Move fast, stay hidden. If you find her, don't engage—report back. We'll handle the rescue together."
"And if they're moving her?" Caleb asked.
"Then you adapt. You're the best tracker we have. I trust your judgment."
Something passed between them—a look that held years of friendship, of brotherhood, of trust. Then Caleb nodded and turned to leave.
"Wait." I stood, and all eyes turned to me. "I'm going with them."
"Absolutely not." Damon's voice was sharp.
"She's my friend. She came to me for help, and I failed her. If she's hurt, she'll need a healer." I met Damon's gaze, willing him to understand. "I won't get in the way. I'll do exactly what Caleb says. But I have to go."
For a long moment, the room was silent. I could feel the warriors watching, waiting to see how their Alpha would respond.
Damon's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to Caleb—a question, a plea.
"She could be useful," Caleb said quietly. "If Mira's injured, having a healer on the team could mean the difference between life and death."
"I don't like it." Damon's voice was rough. "But I understand." He looked at me, and there was something vulnerable in his eyes. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll come back."
"I promise." I crossed to him and took his hand, squeezing it. "I'll come back."
He pulled me into a brief, fierce hug, then released me. "Go. And may the moon guide your path."
We left within the hour.
Caleb, Finn, two other warriors—Ren and Dara—and me. We moved through the forest like shadows, silent and swift, following the fading trail toward the river.
The moon was rising, full and bright, casting silver light through the trees. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.
At the river, Caleb paused, studying the bank. "They crossed here. See the marks?" He pointed to faint scuffs in the mud. "Three, maybe four of them. Mira was struggling—her footprints are deeper here, like she was trying to pull away."
I stared at the marks, imagining her fear, her desperation. "She must have been so scared."
"She's brave." Caleb's voice was soft. "She'll hold on until we find her."
We crossed the river, the cold water soaking our clothes, and pushed into Red Claw territory. The forest here was different—darker, more twisted, as if the land itself reflected the evil of those who claimed it.
We moved carefully, staying to the shadows, avoiding open ground. Hours passed. The moon climbed higher, then began to sink toward the horizon.
"There." Finn's whisper was barely audible. He pointed through the trees, and I saw it—flickering light. Fire. A camp.
Caleb gestured, and we spread out, approaching from different angles. I stayed close to him, my heart pounding so loud I was sure someone would hear.
The camp was small—half a dozen tents, a central fire, a handful of guards. And in the largest tent, bound and gagged but very much alive, was Mira.
I saw her through a gap in the canvas. Her face was bruised, her clothes torn, but her eyes were open and alert. She was alive.
Caleb signaled to the others, and we began to move into position. The plan was simple: create a distraction, grab Mira, and run like hell.
But as we crept closer, a voice rang out from behind us.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
We whirled around. A dozen Red Claw warriors emerged from the trees, surrounding us. At their head, smiling that cold, beautiful smile, was Sera.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "The little Luna, walking right into my trap. And the Beta too." Her eyes gleamed. "This is going to be fun."
Caleb moved in front of me, his body a shield. "Let the others go. You want me, take me."
"Oh, I want all of you." Sera's smile widened. "But especially her." She pointed at me. "The Alpha's precious mate. How do you think he'll react when he finds out I have you again?"
"Elara, run." Caleb's voice was low, urgent. "I'll hold them off."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Elara—"
But before he could finish, Sera raised her hand. The world exploded into motion.
And then everything went dark.