Kael's POV
I stared at the phone screen again for probably the thousandth time in just two days. And this time, my call just jumped directly to voicemail, the automated response filling the car.
My fingers squeezed the steering wheel tight, cold air whooshing into the car and barrelling into me from both sides of the opened windows at the speed I ran.
But no matter how cold the air was. It just couldn't melt away my guilt.
I should have made sure Lyra didn't see that.
I should have known Tara would be the one to come represent her father as my chief beta for the expedition.
I should have known she would be crazy enough to fool around.
But why did Lyra have to walk into the scene?
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel in a fit of anger, and the horn blared into the dark road.
I dialled her number again, and grunted with the whole of my jaw when the call shifted to voicemail again. I punched the end button the instant the automated response came on. The phone's screen almost shattered.
Just why wasn't she picking up my calls? I knew she was angry, and she probably hated me as much as I hated myself right now. Still, she should at least give me a chance to explain.
I swerved right fast, the tires screeching against the asphalt with a sharp frictional cry.
"She hasn't eaten for two days, and I think she is crying." Alice's concerned voice rang in my head in a loop.
I wanted to claw out my heart as I thought of how devastated she must be right now.
I should have run after her immediately. I should even have abandoned the expedition altogether, even at the risk of incurring enemies and collapsing my allied network. Then I would have had the opportunity to explain what really happened to her, and at least she wouldn't have starved for two days.
I floored the gas harder, and the car shot fast down the road like a missile. I only slowed when I approached the palace's gate.
Alice was already waiting by the porch, pacing, her face collapsed in a tight frown.
I rushed over to her. Right now, I didn't bother that I looked flustered and disturbed, which was everything I hated to be.
Alice raised her panic-stricken gaze to me. Now, close, I saw clearly the film of moisture over her eyes. The sight squeezed more into my chest.
"Where is she, Alice?" I demanded, with a stronger inflection on 'She'.
It was the only way I could bring myself to refer to her without being constantly reminded of the fact that I married the daughter of the man who took a bullet on my behalf. It was the only way to not be reminded that she was supposed to be my adopted daughter, not my wife or mate.
I had expected Alice to point into the manor and lead me to her room, but she just stood there, the film of tears over her eyes growing.
A strange cold pelted against my skin now. I grabbed her shoulders hard, and I yelled. "Where the hell is she, Alice?"
"She—" Alice began slowly, but before she could find the words.
The Delta Head, Aaron Black, stumbled onto the porch. The terror that strung his face at the sight of me was enough to let me know something had happened to Lyra.
Fire seared into my veins, fury blinding me, until I saw murder. I lunged for Aaron, and in a flash of seconds, his neck was in my hand, my fingers hard on his windpipe.
"Tell me what the hell happened here."
He struggled against my fingers, eyes bulging, forehead tightening. "She is gone, Alpha King," he managed, amidst the struggles, "the luna queen is gone."
I staggered back, growing weak in the knees, almost as if something just barrelled into me. "What do you mean she is gone?" I demanded when I finally cleared the fog from my head. "Wasn't she supposed to be here. Didn't she come here after she left my office?" I turned so both Alice and Aaron were under my gaze, while pain crowded my heart.
She couldn't possibly be gone. She couldn't.
"She is gone," Alice confirmed, wiping her tears with her sleeves. "I think she couldn't stand it anymore, after she waited two days for you, and didn't get a direct response."
"Direct response," I scoffed painfully. "I texted her, called her repeatedly—" I said, until my voice broke off to a whisper.
Aaron Black took his hands away from massaging his bruised neck, and he pushed a familiar phone towards me. Hers. "She didn't get the message or calls, Alpha King. She forgot the phone in the taxi she took here two days ago, and the driver just returned it this evening."
Rage and fury plundered me, not at anyone, but at myself. They made my fingers shake as I took the phone from him. So she was really gone—gone. Gone while completely heartbroken.
I wished I could rip out my heart and beat myself with it, as I would have done with anyone who would dare hurt her.
I squeezed the phone tight in my fingers; it squealed. I had to bring her back to the Palace and protect and love her as I had sworn to. "Throw everyone onto the streets to search for her, everyone, every guard must be busy finding her, and no one should come back until she is found."
"Yes, Alpha King." He breathed loudly, still rubbing blood back to his neck, and then he dashed fast into the darkness.
I turned fast to the car, throwing my phone to my ear. I was pulling the car door and jumping in when Mr. Lucas' voice came through. He ran the biggest TV station in the country and was also a friend. "Hello, my Alpha—"
"This is no time for jokes, Lucas. Draziel's daugh—" I paused, forcing a hard swallow. "My Queen just went missing, and I need to find her immediately. Broadcast it, and promise anyone who has any information about her whereabouts a large sum if they come forward." I said. "And do it fast."
I threw the phone away, held tight to the wheel, and I floored it down the driveway, driving madly into the unknown in search of her.
There was only one thing on my mind as I drove, only one thought—Find her. So I searched every corner of the country, every hospital, every hotel, and every rumor. And gradually, days turned into weeks into months, and months turned into years, until it became three good years since she went missing.
Three Years Later…
The phone trembled violently in my hand, and I staggered from my little slumber, the vibration jarring up my arm. It chased off every vestige of sleep.
I straightened on the leatherback chair I had dozed off on when the screen flashed Lucas' details as the caller. I was always waiting for the call; it was my opium.
"Looks like we have found the little queen." Lucas chimed in my ear, ecstatic, and at the same time, nervous.
"Are you certain?" I demanded into the receiver, my voice sharp and hoarse from years of exhaustion.
"Yes, Alpha King," Lucas said, excitement bubbling still. "The informant brought physical proof, and if this isn't our queen, then this woman borrowed her looks, and it's a lot of borrowing. She was seen entering a clinic just outside the Riverside District."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs. "Send me the proof. And do it—"
The phone buzzing shut me up. The image that popped into view as I clicked on Lucas's message made my breath freeze in my throat, the phone heavy in my hand—it was really her.
Though it was a side-view image, I could recognize the chestnut brown hair that cascaded over her small shoulders, even in my sleep, just like I recognized her large, expressive amber eyes from the slight side peek in the picture.
It could be another look-alike, but for some reason, I could swear this was her, this was Lyra.
I huffed a sigh of excitement and jumped fast to my feet.
"Have you gotten to the clinic yet?" I slapped the phone to my ear again.
"Yes," Lucas replied.
"Then stay there," I ordered. "Don't let her leave. Just fucking stay there."
I ended the call before he could say another word, and I ran out of the room. A few seconds later, I was in the car. My foot slammed on the accelerator, and the car shot down the driveway and onto the highway like a bullet.
Streetlights flashed past me in blurring streaks of squashed images. My mind raced as fast as the car, if not more.
I just wish it were her this time, and not another lookalike. I wished I had found her after three years of desperately searching.
Sleep tugged my eyes, biting into my consciousness since it's been weeks since I had slept, and three years since I slept peacefully.
I threw my head wildly about to shake off sleep, while keeping my eyes and concentration on the road.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel.
The speedometer climbed higher. 120, 121, 122… The wind screamed through the half-open windows. But I didn't slow down. I couldn't, not when I was this close to seeing her again.
Sleep stole my vision, and my fingers slipped on the steering wheel for a moment. I quickly broke from my lethargy. I was just reclaiming my tight grip on the wheel when a pair of bright headlights suddenly flooded the road ahead.
I didn't see it until it was near, a truck—a massive one. My eyes widened, and I jerked the steering wheel—
But it was too late. The crash exploded like thunder, throwing me against the dashboard roughly. Metal screamed around me, and glass shattered with agonizing cries.
Pain tore through my body, ripping me apart from the inside as the world spun violently, and then everything went black.
I don't know how long it took, but finally, I began to hear voices and running footsteps. Everything felt distant and heavy.
I tried to open my eyes, but the weight of darkness crushed them closed again.
"BP's dropping!"
"Get the stretcher moving!"
"Prepare the ER!"
The voices blurred together, and with the pain messing with my mind, it was terribly hard to process anything.
But then, a new voice stuck through the fog. It was calm, steady, authoritative, and familiar.
"Move him to Trauma Room Two," she said.
Something about the voice made my chest tighten.
I forced my eyes open as fast and as wide as I could manage, while pain burned up my nerves, all the way to my head. Tight groans tore from me, even with how hard I fought the pain.
Blurry lights burned above me, shapes floating around, until finally, I began to make more sense of the face leaning over me. The chestnut hair tied in a bun behind her, the warm amber pair—Lyra.
My breath stopped with the force of a crashing train. I vibrated on the gurney.
It was really her, my mate, my Lyra.
My lips parted weakly. "…Lyra…" But the word barely escaped my mouth.
Her gaze flickered briefly down to me. For a moment, our eyes collided. Shock flashed across her face, right before it was quickly masked with a cold professionalism. She threw her gaze away, as if nothing had just happened.
"Prepare the operating table," she said calmly to the others around her, still keeping her face away from me.
"Ly–" I tried again when darkness swallowed me completely.