ZEKES POV
"It could be dangerous. If whoever took Golden realizes we're getting close, they might-"
"They might what? Come after me? Good. Let them try. At least then I'd be doing something instead of drowning in nightmares every night."
The bond flared between us, feeding off her anger and fear. I felt it all, the desperation that drove her words. The need to take action, any action, rather than sit idle while her
child was missing.
"Please," she said more quietly. "I need this. I need to feel like I'm helping find him."
I recognized that look on her face. That set to her jaw. It was the same expression she'd worn years ago when she'd insisted on attending peace negotiations despite my
protests. When she'd stood up to my council members who'd questioned her role as Luna. When she'd refused to be dismissed or sidelined just because she seemed soft spoken and gentle.
Beneath that gentle exterior had always been steel. I'd loved that about her once. I'd been drawn to the contradiction of her, the way she could be tender one moment and fierce the next.
Looking at her now, I wondered how I'd ever been stupid enough to let her go.
"Fine," I said. "But you stay close to me. No wandering off on your own. No taking risks."
"I'm not an idiot."
"I know. But whoever took Golden is smart and organized. They planned
this carefully. I'm not losing you too."
Something flickered in her eyes at those words but she looked away before I could identify it. "Let me get dressed.
I'll meet you in the security office."
"I'll wait."
"Zeke-"
"I'll wait," I repeated firmly. "You stay close to me, remember? That starts now."
She disappeared back into the bathroom without arguing. I heard
drawers opening and closing, the rustle of clothes. I forced myself to look anywhere but at that cracked bathroom door, to think about anything but the fact that she was getting
dressed just a few feet away.
The bond hummed louder, as if mocking my attempt at
restraint.
Cecelia emerged ten minutes later in jeans and a sweater, her damp hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked ready for action, all traces of vulnerability locked away behind her determined expression.
We walked to the security office in silence. The palace staff we passed gave us curious looks but knew better than to ask questions. News of Cecelia's return had spread through the pack like wildfire. I knew there were rumors flying about what it meant, why she was here, what would happen between us.
Let them wonder. I had more important things to worry about
than gossip.
Marcus looked surprised when we entered the security office together. "Luna," he said, then caught
himself. "I mean, Cecelia."
"Luna is fine," she said shortly. "Show me what you found."
If Marcus had opinions about her involvement he was smart enough to keep them to himself. He pulled up the footage on the main monitor, walking her through everything they'd discovered. Cecelia watched intently, her eyes tracking every
detail.
"Play it again," she said when he finished. "The gas station
footage."
Marcus complied. We all watched the grainy video of the SUV pulling
up, the tall figure getting out to pump gas.
"There," Cecelia said suddenly. "Stop it there."
Marcus froze the frame. Cecelia moved closer to the screen, studying something.
"What is it?" I asked.
"The way they're standing. The height, the build. It's familiar." She shook her head. "I can't place it but I've seen someone move like that before."
"Could it be someone from
Seacreek?" Finn asked.
"No. Everyone there is a fisherman. They move differently, from years of working on boats." She rewound the footage and watched it again. "This person moves like pack. Like
someone trained to fight."
She was right. Now that she'd pointed it out, I could see it too. The way the figure held themselves, the controlled movements, the awareness of their surroundings. This was
someone with combat training.
"That narrows it down," Sarah said
"Not many civilians have that kind of training."
"Which means it's likely someone from a pack," Marcus
finished. "Someone military or security."
My jaw clenched. The list of suspects had just gotten much shorter and much more
uncomfortable. If this was someone from my pack, someone I'd trusted with our security, then the betrayal cut deep.
"Pull personnel files," I ordered. "Everyone in our security
force and military. Anyone with the build and training to match what we're seeing. Cross reference with the Range Rover owners list."
"On it," Finn said, already typing.
Cecelia and I spent the next two hours reviewing footage frame by frame. We sat side by side at the table, Marcus's laptop between us.
Every time we needed to pause or rewind, our hands would brush over the touchpad. The first few times, we both pulled away quickly. Then gradually, the touches lingered a fraction longer.
The bond sang between us, pleased by the proximity. I tried to ignore it, to focus on the investigation, but I was constantly aware of her. The way she bit her lip when concentrating. The frustrated sound she made when a video yielded nothing useful. The warmth of her arm against mine when she leaned in to see the screen better.
"Here," she said, pointing to the traffic camera footage. "In the background. Is that another vehicle?"
I squinted at where she indicated. Behind the Range Rover, barely visible, was the front end of another car.
"Can we enhance that?" I asked Marcus.
"Let me try." He took the laptop and worked some technical magic I didn't understand. Slowly, the image sharpened. Not much, but enough to make out a logo on the other
vehicle's grille.
"That's a Mercedes," Sarah said. "Expensive one too."
"So we have two luxury vehicles traveling together," Cecelia
said. "That's not random. They're coordinating."
She was brilliant. I'd forgotten how sharp her mind was, how quickly she could connect pieces others missed.
We'd made a good team once, before I'd ruined everything.
