Vanished
The air in the healer’s tent was stifling, the soft rustle of canvas walls doing little to ease Isla’s rising panic. She reclined on a cot, her body trembling with exhaustion from the battle and childbirth. Her twins, so fragile and new, had been entrusted to Micah’s care for the journey to safety. Yet an unease gnawed at her.
“Where’s Micah?” Isla whispered, her silver eyes darting toward Draven, who paced the length of the tent like a caged wolf.
“She’s on her way to your parents,” Draven replied, his tone clipped and sharp. “With the twins. They’ll be safe there.”
Before Isla could respond, the tent flap flew open, and a scout stumbled inside, his face pale as if he’d seen a ghost. “Alpha!” he gasped. “There’s been no sign of Micah or the twins near Midnight Crest. It’s like they vanished into thin air.”
“What?” Draven’s voice turned thunderous as his claws raked the edge of the wooden table, splintering it with a deafening crack.
Isla bolted upright, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “That’s impossible. Micah would never let anything happen to them. She promised to keep them safe!”
The scout shifted uneasily, his eyes downcast. “We traced their path as far as the forest’s edge, but the trail goes cold. There’s no scent, no tracks—nothing to follow.”
Draven’s amber eyes blazed with fury, his muscles taut with rage. “Alaric!” he roared, his voice reverberating through the camp. “Gather every available warrior. We retrace her route. Now.”
Isla swung her legs off the cot, her movements shaky but resolute. “I’m coming with you.”
Draven turned on her, his expression a storm of anger and fear. “No. You’ve been through too much—”
“They’re my children!” Isla’s voice rose, sharp and defiant. “You think I can sit here and do nothing? If they’re lost, I’ll find them. If they’re taken…” Her voice faltered, but her silver eyes blazed with determination. “I’ll make whoever’s responsible regret it.”
Draven hesitated, his jaw tight with the conflict between his protective instincts and her unyielding resolve. Finally, he cupped her face, his hands trembling slightly. “Then stay close to me,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “No matter what happens, you don’t leave my side.”
The camp erupted into motion as warriors armed themselves and prepared for the search. Isla, her heart pounding, mounted her horse beside Draven. The moon hung high above, casting the forest in an eerie silver glow that seemed both protective and foreboding.
“We’ll find them,” Draven promised, his voice steady despite the fire in his amber eyes.
But as the search party plunged into the dense forest, an icy dread crept over Isla’s heart, whispering a chilling question: What if we’re already too late?
