A faint shimmer catches my eye. I approach, crouching to examine the moss. Tiny particles of silver-blue dust glitter in the moonlight—fairy magic, though I cannot determine if it belongs to Ivy specifically.
"Is that..." Emmett begins.
"Fairy dust," I confirm, rage building anew as the pieces fall into place. "Fairy magic was used here. Recently."
I let the dust sift through my fingers, feeling its residual magic. Not ordinary fairy dust—this carries a signature of deliberate use, as if cast with specific intent.
But something about this trail feels deliberate. Too obvious.
"The fairy didn't try to hide her presence," I observe, rising to my feet. "She wanted us to follow."
"A trap?" Emmett suggests.
"Or a breadcrumb trail," I reply, my mind racing ahead. "If Seraphina was taken against her will, her fairy friend might be trying to help us find her."
Either way, the path is clear. The hounds have her scent, and the fairy dust confirms the direction.
I release my shadows fully, allowing them to explode outward in a wave of pure darkness that extinguishes every light in the clearing save the red glow of the hounds' eyes.
"Find her," I command, my voice unrecognizable even to myself.
As the beasts lunge forward, following the trail into the enchanted forest, I feel the cold certainty of vengeance solidify in my chest. Whoever has taken my mate doesn't understand what they've awakened.
Seraphina is mine. By fate, by magic, by choice, by my bite permanently marking her throat.
And I will burn the world to ash to get her back.
The hunt begins now.
The shadow hounds bay in the darkness—a sound that makes even seasoned warriors flinch. These beasts were bred for tracking, their senses attuned to the unique pheromone signature every Omega carries. In the old wars, they were used to hunt fleeing captives.
Now they hunt for their master's stolen mate.
The bond between a mated Alpha and Omega should make such tracking unnecessary—a completed bond creates a connection so strong that an Alpha can sense their location instinctively, can feel their distress across vast distances. That this bond has been blocked speaks to powerful magic at work.
Someone went to great lengths to hide my Omega from me.
They will regret it.
CHAPTER 25
THE BETRAYAL
SERAPHINA
I wake to pain and darkness. My head throbs with each pulse of my heart, and the metallic taste of blood coats my tongue. Disorientation clouds my thoughts as I try to piece together what happened. The palace corridor. The struggle. The cloth pressed against my face.
Someone took me.
Forcing my eyes open, I blink against a dim firelight that reveals rough wooden walls. I'm in a small cottage, sparse and utilitarian—a single room with a hearth, table, and bed where I now lie. My limbs feel heavy. When I try to call my light magic, only the faintest flicker responds before dying away. The sedative has dampened my abilities but not eliminated them entirely; I can feel the magic there, just muted and difficult to grasp.
Through the fog in my mind, I reach instinctively for the mating bond—for Malakai—but find it strangely muted, as if wrapped in thick wool. My Omega whimpers at the separation, at being cut off from my Alpha.
Testing my muscles, I push myself to a sitting position, wincing at the sharp pain that lances through my right arm. A deep cut traces from my elbow to wrist, blood dried in a flaking crust around the wound. I remember fighting my attacker in the palace corridor, but the details remain hazy.
A shadow moves near the hearth.
"Don't try to stand," a familiar voice commands. "The sedative hasn't fully worn off."
