I hadn’t wanted to believe him. Not then. Not even now.
But after tonight… how can I not?
I sink down to the cold, stone floor, pressing my back to the bedframe. My hands are trembling, rage and sorrow warping every breath I take.
Hot tears streak down my cheeks, leaving me with the last ounce of hope I had that my father was not some wicked fiend. I close my eyes and reach out—not with my hands, but with the quiet ache that lives deep beneath my ribs.
“Dante.”
I don’t know if he’ll hear me, but I reach, anyway.
“Can you hear me?”
I picture his face, his hands, the warmth I felt when he held me. That quiet certainty that, even if no one else could save me, he would try.
“Dante, please.”
Nothing.
Just the crackle of embers in the hearth and the howling wind outside.
Still… I wait.
Because some part of me—irrational and fragile and impossibly stubborn—believes he might hear it. Might feel it.
That somewhere, across the miles, his pulse has stuttered.
That the same ache I feel in my chest might echo in his.
ChApter
Fifty
Dante
Ipush my horse hard, Sir Holden and Sir Donovan riding close behind. It didn’t take much convincing to get them to accompany me. Once they realized Celeste was truly missing, they threw themselves into the mission. My knuckles are raw against the reins, my jaw locked tight. By the time the Garrison’s stone walls rise ahead, the wind has frozen my face, but it’s nothing compared to the cold sinking deeper in my chest with every mile.
She’s not at Ivystone.
She’s not anywhere she should be.
The moment we pass through the gates, soldiers straighten, some bowing in surprise, others stepping aside as I swing down from the saddle. I don’t waste time with pleasantries.
“Where’s General Kormak?” I demand.
One of the guards nods toward the far end of the trainingyard, where Kormak stands with his arms folded, watching two of Celeste’s squad members trade blows in the sparring ring. Mylo is there too, leaning against the railing with his usual quiet watchfulness, while Aila, Isaac, Giorgi, and Lorne linger nearby, their attention shifting as soon as they hear my tone.
Kormak’s posture changes the second he sees my expression. He steps forward, boots crunching over the packed dirt, and the rest of the squad falls in behind him like a shadow.
“Prince Dante.” His voice is even, but his eyes narrow. “What brings you here?”
“It’s Celeste,” I say, closing the distance. “She’s gone.”
The air around us seems to tighten. Mylo straightens, his jaw hardening.
“‘Gone’?” Kormak asks.
“Her horse is still in the stables,” I tell them, sweeping my gaze over each of their faces. “You know she would never leave Thora behind. She would never leave without telling me. Without informing any of you. This isn’t her.”
