Page 58 of The Alpha's Forbidden Heir

As we push further into the woods, I catch a faint scent—something sharp and out of place. I freeze, holding up a hand to stop her.

"What is it?" she whispers, stepping closer.

"Blood," I say, my voice low. My eyes scan the ground, and then I see it: a small smear of red on a jagged rock.

Aria’s breath hitches. "Is it…?"

"No," I say quickly, crouching down to examine it. "It’s not Elias’s. Too fresh, and the scent is different. Could be one of Vittorio’s men." I stand, my fists clenching. "Which means we’re on the right track."

"This is my fault," Aria says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I glance at her sharply. "What?"

"If I hadn’t come here…if I’d just stayed hidden with Elias, this wouldn’t have happened," she says, her voice breaking.

"Stop," I say firmly, turning to face her. "This isn’t your fault. Vittorio made his choice, and he’ll pay for it. But blaming yourself won’t help Elias."

She swallows hard, nodding.

An hour later, the trail grows colder, and frustration claws at me. "Damn it," I mutter, scanning the area for anything—anything—that might give us a clue.

Just as I’m about to suggest doubling back, I catch another scent—a faint mix of sweat and fear.

"This way," I say, motioning for her to follow.

The scent leads us to a small clearing, and my heart skips a beat when I see what’s in the center: a piece of fabric, torn and snagged on a low branch.

Aria gasps, rushing forward. "That’s his jacket," she whispers, holding the fabric like it’s a lifeline.

I take it from her, sniffing it carefully. "He was here," I confirm, my voice low. "Not long ago."

Aria’s eyes shine with unshed tears, but she blinks them away, her expression hardening. "Then we’re close. Let’s keep going."

I nod, my resolve hardening. Vittorio made a mistake taking Elias. And when I find him, he’ll learn just how big a mistake that was.

The scent leads us to an old, overgrown trail, the kind no one would stumble upon unless they knew where to look. My wolf is restless, its growls echoing in my mind as we press forward. Aria is beside me, her determination etched on her face despite the scratches on her arms from the low-hanging branches.

“We’re close,” I say, my voice a low rumble. My sharp gaze scans the trees, catching glimpses of faint boot prints in the mud. “Whoever took him didn’t bother to cover their tracks properly. Vittorio must think we’re too slow to catch up.”

“Or he wants us to follow,” Aria says, her voice tight. She grips the piece of Elias’s jacket in her hand like it’s a lifeline.

I glance at her and nod. She’s right. Vittorio is twisted enough to enjoy the chase. But this isn’t a game to me. My claws flex at my sides, itching to rip into someone’s throat.

The trail ends abruptly, opening into a small clearing. In the center stands an old, rotting cabin. The wooden boards are warped and peeling, and one of the windows hangs crookedly, shattered. My senses scream danger, but I stride forward anyway.

“Bane,” Aria hisses, grabbing my arm. “Wait. What if it’s a trap?”

“It probably is,” I admit, brushing her hand off. “But Elias could be in there. I’m not leaving without checking.”

She hesitates for a second before nodding. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No,” I snap, my voice harder than I intended. Her eyes narrow, but I don’t have time to argue. “Stay here.”

“I’m not running,” she says, her voice sharp. “That’s my son in there, Bane. You can’t keep me out of this.”

“Aria—”

“Don’t ‘Aria’ me!” she snaps, stepping closer. “I’m not some fragile little thing you can push aside. If you’re going in, I’m going with you.”

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