I force myself to move, stepping around the table and into the living room.
Everything inside me goes cold.
A lamp lies shattered on the floor, fragments glittering in the moonlight that streams in through the window. The rug is bunched up against the wall like it was kicked or dragged aside during a struggle. Deep, vicious claw marks score the wooden floorboards—gouges that could only come from a shifted wolf fighting for their life.
I stumble backward, right into Kieran’s chest. His arms come around me immediately, holding me upright as my legs threaten to give out.
“We’ll find them,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice steady. “I promise you, we’ll find them.”
But I can hear the hollowness in his tone. The doubt.
Outside, the soldiers are spreading out, knocking on doors. Voices rise in question as they wake sleeping pack members.
“I need to check their rooms,” I whisper.
Kieran’s arms tighten around me for a moment before he releases me. “I’m coming with you.”
The stairs creak under my weight as I climb them. Each step feels impossible, like I’m moving through deep mud. Kieran follows close behind, a silent shadow.
The first door used to be mine. I push it open, and my heart sinks.
Storage. My childhood bedroom has been converted into a storage room.
Boxes are stacked haphazardly against the walls, old clothes spilling out of them. Broken furniture. Tools. Random household items gathering dust. Not a single thing of mine remains. Not one photograph, not one piece of clothing, not one memento from all my years of living here.
It’s as if I never existed.
The pain is sharp and sudden, but I force it down. Bury it. Not now. Not when my brothers might need me.
I move to the next room, which belongs to Darius and Mikhail. The boys who used to follow me everywhere with wide, trusting eyes.
The door creaks open.
The beds are unmade, sheets tangled and hanging half off the mattresses, suggesting my little brothers were pulled out of them in their sleep. Clothes are scattered everywhere.
My heart stops when I see the deep scratch marks on the wooden floor. Long, vicious gouges like something was dragged across them. Or someone.
“No.” The word barely makes it past my lips.
I move to the third bedroom on trembling legs. Marcus and Stefan’s room, my other brothers.
Their beds are made, sheets undisturbed. They must have been downstairs, having breakfast. All of them were here when it happened. Whatever “it” was.
I turn and nearly run into Kieran. His hands reach for me, but I push past him, my feet carrying me down the stairs and out the front door.
“Daciana!” Kieran’s voice follows me, sharp with concern. “What are you doing?”
I don’t stop to answer. Can’t stop. I’m already running for the tree line, for the forest that always felt more like home than any building ever could.
At the edge of the woods, I stop, plant my feet in the soft earth, and tilt my head back. My two sharp howls slice through the night air, echoing through the trees—a call I haven’t made since I was hauled off to the capital. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence and my own heart hammering against my ribs.
Then, the forest comes alive.
Wild wolves emerge from the shadows between the trees. Dozens of them, their eyes glowing amber and gold in the moonlight. Wolves I’ve known since I was a child. They approach slowly, heads lowered in submission. In recognition of what I have always been to them.
“Where are they?” My voice cracks. “Where is my family?”
The wolves look at each other, silent communication passing between them. Then, two of them turn and start walking deeper into the forest.
