A Faint Lead
After the meeting, Isla found Draven waiting for her outside the war room. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw. “You don’t trust him,” she said, stepping closer.
Draven crossed his arms, his amber eyes fixed on hers. “No, I don’t. And I won’t until this is over.”
Isla sighed, resting her hand on his chest. “I need him, Draven. We need him. For now, that has to be enough.”
Draven’s arms uncrossed, and he wrapped them around her, pulling her close. “I’ll protect you, Isla,” he murmured, his voice low and fierce. “From him, from your father, from anyone who tries to hurt you. But promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise,” Isla whispered, her head resting against his chest as the weight of the day threatened to overwhelm her.
________________
The war room was silent, save for the soft rustle of maps as Jamie unfurled a worn sheet before Isla and Draven. Her gray eyes were serious, her voice low. “We’ve found a trace—a faint magical disturbance near the northern reaches of your father’s territory. It matches Eira’s signature.”
Isla’s heart jolted, hope clawing its way through the despair that had gripped her for days. “Are you certain?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Jamie nodded. “It’s faint, but it’s there. If she used magic to conceal her movements, this could be our best shot at finding her.”
Draven’s amber eyes narrowed as he leaned over the map, his claws tracing the marked location. “Or it could be a trap,” he growled, his tone edged with caution.
“Or it could be the only chance we have,” Isla countered, her voice firm. Her silver eyes gleamed with determination as she locked her gaze on Draven.
Draven’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts warring with the urgency in her voice. After a moment, he exhaled and nodded. “We’ll go,” he said. “But we move carefully. I’m not risking you.”
The pack prepared quickly, warriors assembling with grim resolve. The air buzzed with anticipation, a fragile hope sparking among them.
As Isla packed her belongings, she felt Draven’s presence behind her. She turned to find him watching her, his amber eyes soft but heavy with worry. He reached out, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face.
“We’ll get them back,” he said quietly, his voice steady and filled with conviction.
Isla’s chest tightened as she met his gaze. “We have to,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t lose them, Draven. Not again. Even if it kills me.”
Draven pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “It won’t come to that,” he said fiercely. “Not while I’m here.”
