Esther’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling with each one. She could barely register the pain anymore—it had become a constant, a dull thrum beneath her skin.
The rogues were gone. Or maybe she was dying. It didn’t matter now.
A soft crunch of boots on gravel stirred her fading senses. A voice, deep and familiar, cut through the haze.
“Esther.”
She blinked, slowly lifting her head. Through the crimson veil of exhaustion, she saw him.
Stefano.
Older than she remembered, but unmistakable—tall, cloaked in black, silver lining the edges of his dark tunic, his eyes the color of storm clouds before a downpour.
“Stefano...?” she croaked. “What are—?”
He dropped to one knee beside her, his hands warm as he gathered her into his arms like she weighed nothing.
His jaw was clenched, eyes burning with urgency as he approached the edge of the forbidden path—the shimmering veil that marked the divide between the mortal world and the ancestral lands of Silverthorn.
The moment they crossed the border, the thick, enchanted mist gave way to towering obsidian trees and moon-drenched hills. Nestled within the shadows stood a grand mansion—black stone and silver trim. Torches ignited along the path as Stefano approached, their flames bending in reverence.
Pack members emerged from the surrounding woods. At the sight of him, they bowed low, fists to their hearts.
“Prepare the chamber,” Stefano called, his voice echoing.
Their eyes widened when they saw her.
A low murmur rose among them. “Our Queen has returned...”
Esther stirred in his arms, groaning faintly.
“Easy,” Stefano whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “You’re safe.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze dazed and unfocused—until she saw them. Dozens of unfamiliar faces. And yet they were bowing to her. Their eyes were reverent.
“Wh...” Her voice cracked. “Why are they...?”
Stefano smiled softly, tightening his grip around her.
“Because they’ve been waiting for you.”
—
Marcus stood by the window of his office, staring out at the dark treetops swaying under the silver light of the moon. His reflection in the glass looked tired.
He exhaled sharply and turned. "Callen," he said, voice low.
His Beta, seated quietly by the bookshelf, straightened. "Alpha?"
Marcus hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair. "Go to the safe in the east wing and gather all the jewelry inside—my mother’s pendant, the gold cuffs from the eastern border alliance, the fire-opal ring... everything. Wrap them carefully."
Callen blinked, surprised. "All of it?"
"Yes. Then send it all to the old residence on Willow Ridge. That’s the only place she could’ve run to."
Callen nodded, rising silently before slipping out the door.
Marcus sighed. He was certain that once Esther received those things, she would come crawling back. It had always been that way. Just a little coaxing and she would give in.
On the other hand, Ariella who was curled on the couch by the fireplace looked at him, her expression was unreadable.
“Are you worried about her?” she asked softly.
Marcus turned toward her.
Her smile was soft—but it didn't reach her eyes. “Esther’s really lucky to have a mate like you.”
Marcus didn’t respond.
Ariella rose and walked toward him, stopping just short of his space. “If she’s refusing to come back because of me,” she whispered, “then I’ll just leave.”
Looking at her tear-stricken face, Marcus felt his heart melted.
Pulling her into his arms, he said firmly, “Don’t even think that way, Regardless of what Esther feels, this pack will be your home and our child’s.”
After calming Ariella down, he went to the balcony.
He pressed his hand on his heart and tried to feel the bond. It was still there, so it was impossible that Esther was dead. Still, he couldn't understand why she would disappear without a word. As his mate and the Luna of the pack, she should have been understanding. After all, what he did was all for the future of their pack.
With a frown, he attempted the mindlink.
'Esther? Can you hear me? I’m not in the mood for games. Tell me where you are—'
He faltered mid-sentence, struck by a sudden void.
He felt the wall. A complete block, like her entire sea of consciousness had vanished behind stone.
“Damn it! I can’t reach her,” he cursed under his breath.
Marcus pulled out his phone, jaw clenched, and typed.
[I don’t have time to play with you, Esther. Come back now.]
Still no reply.
The knot in his chest twisted tighter.
Just then, the doors burst open with a gust of wind.
An old man entered—tall, silver-haired, regal even in simple clothes. His presence silenced the room.
"Grandpa?" Marcus gawk at him in disbelief. “You... what are you doing here?”
The former regent Alpha king, who had vanished into seclusion years ago, ignored his grandson’s question.
“Where is she?” he asked coldly.
