Page 92 of The Wolf

“You do.”

He stared down at Robyn and begged for the first time in his adult life. “You have to help me find her.Please.”

All at once the frost left Robyn’s expression, and she smiled sadly. “Have your wolves search the perimeter of the estate, then. Send some to the outskirts of Betraz. You might get lucky. Her scent is faint but it may still be traceable, if you hurry. But I have to warn you… she looked broken. You must promise to be gentle with her when you find her, Brine. You must promise you will listen.”

“Of course,” he said gravely. “I just need one chance. One conversation.”

Robyn gave him one last look before turning to Damien. “My love, it seems we have some tracking to do. Let’s fly.”

“I love it when you ride me.”

Robyn snorted. “Ever the flatterer.”

She turned on her heel and exited the manor, the dragon king hot on her heels.

“They will cover more ground than we will,” Tempest mused. “But I have several Hounds along the borders. I’ll send word for them to make inquiries.”

“Wise as ever, my love,” Pyre praised. “Brine, will you send your wolves?”

He ran a hand over his face. “The ones I can trust.”

* * *

Three days of nothing.Of silence.

Brine didn’t sleep and he could hardly eat.

By the end of the three days there was still no sign of Scarlet. She had become an apparition; all that had been left behind was her blood-red cloak, and a single shoe. Both had been close to the perimeter of the estate, where Robyn had found and killed Tarros.

But no Scarlet. No tangible leads as to where she had disappeared to.

For all intents and purposes, Scarlet had become a ghost.

Brine shifted into his wolf and ran through the forest until his legs gave out. He panted and stared up at the moon until he caught his breath and ran back to the manor.

Once he arrived at the cottage, he shifted back and pulled on a pair of trousers. He lifted her abandoned slipper to his chest as if it were precious. He supposed it was, since it had belonged to his mate. It even smelled like her—just barely.

Brine stepped outside and flung his head back and howled into the dark and murky woods, his pack echoing his pain.

“I’ll find you.”

FORTY-SEVEN

SCARLET

Scarlet blinked, and before she knew it four months had passed since she’d fled the Betraz Manor.

And Brine.

Her heart clenched.

“Get out of my sight.”

His words still caused pain to ricochet through her.

She’d settled into her new life quite nicely. Living with Ari was easy: together they moved into a little house along the beach, which was only a few doors down from the pub Ari ran. So close to the dock from which Scarlet had witnessed her stepmother’s ship burned to smithereens.

Good riddens.

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