Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Kaelen’s POV
“Don’t.”
The word left my mouth before I could stop it. My fingers were locked around her wrist like a steel band. I could feel her pulse hammering against my thumb—fast, panicked, alive.
She stood frozen, half-turned toward the door. Those ice-blue eyes finally lifted to mine, and the fear in them hit me like a blade between the ribs.
I should have let go. A better man would have.
Instead, I tightened my grip.
“Sit down, Elara.”
“Your Majesty—”
“Sit. Down.”
She obeyed. Not because she wanted to. Because my voice left no room for refusal. She lowered herself into the chair across from my desk, spine rigid, hands clasped in her lap. Her knuckles were white, but I did not release her wrist. I held her there, a prisoner in the silent archive.
The archive was empty now. The last clerk had gone some time ago. Shadows pooled in the corners of my office like spilled ink.
Images kept flashing through my mind—the memory of her warm body yielding in my arms, and the impossible reality of her son, Valerius, staring back at me with those unmistakable dark golden eyes.
“Your son,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Valerius.”
Her chin lifted, though her ice-blue eyes darted away nervously. “What about him?”
“You told me he is not Gareth’s. I need to understand what I saw. Have you ever thought of finding him? Valerius’s father?”
Her face went pale. Milk-white. The kind of pale that comes from blood retreating inward, the body bracing for a blow. She looked at me with pure terror.
“I... I tried, Your Majesty,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Once. But there was nothing to find. No name. No trail. I had no leads.”
Liar, Alex snarled. Those eyes. His eyes. OUR eyes.
I leaned in closer, my grip on her wrist unyielding. My voice grew hoarse, desperate as I fished for the one truth that mattered—the location of the golden wolf-crest brooch, engraved with my initials, that I had left on her pillow.
“Did he leave a creed? A calling card? Anything at all?” I demanded.
Tears streamed down Elara’s pale face as she flinched at my tone. “Nothing, Your Majesty. I woke up and the bed was empty. He left absolutely nothing behind. He vanished like a ghost.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer, forcing my fingers to slowly uncoil from her wrist.
Nothing.
My chest constricted. That wasn’t possible. I had placed it right there. On the pillow. Unless she never saw it.
Unless an inn servant stole it first. A gold brooch left on an unmade bed would have been pocketed by a greedy inn servant in seconds.
I exhaled slowly, my mind spinning with the agonizing realization that the trail had been broken before she even opened her eyes. She had raised him in poverty, scrubbed floors, filed documents, and fought off unwanted advances, all while I searched the empire for a face I couldn’t forget.
“You may return to your work,” I said, my voice hollow.
Elara stood quickly, completely bewildered, and hurried out the door. Her footsteps faded down the corridor like a bird escaping a cage.
I collapsed into my chair. The leather creaked beneath my weight.
In the depths of my mind, Alex released an agonizing howl. The psychological torment of these coincidences—her scent, the boy’s eyes, the missing evidence—tore through our bond, leaving us both raw and bleeding.
I had to find it. I was consumed by the desperate urgency to find the woman who had haunted my dreams for five years.
I reached for the sending stone on my desk. It pulsed warm beneath my touch.
“Cassian,” I commanded.
A brief pause. Then his voice, steady and clear: “What are your orders, Your Majesty?”
“Come to my office. Now.”
I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out a small wooden box. I lifted the lid, revealing half of a golden wolf-crest brooch nestled in black velvet.
Sir Cassian arrived within minutes, his sand-colored hair slightly disheveled. He took one look at my face and closed the door behind him.
“Kaelen. What happened?”
I pushed the wooden box toward him.
“I need you to find the matching half,” I ordered, my voice hardening into the unquestionable tone of an Alpha king. “Conduct a massive search. Check the pawnshops, the jewelers, the antique dealers, and the black market in the capital. Scour the Royal Infirmary’s lost-and-found and the city guard’s evidence vaults. Search them all.”
“Kaelen, that’s—”
“I don’t care what it costs or how many resources it takes,” I interrupted, my eyes locking onto his. “I am closer to finding her than I have ever been.”
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