Page 11 of Omission

I don’t bother replying and walk to the door, opening it while holding out my other hand for the mobile. I’d left my cell phone with her earlier today, asking not to be disturbed unless an emergency or word of Silla came through.

“Thank you, Isotta.”

“Of course, my king.” Nodding, she scrunches her brows. Her worry lines are thick after handing the device over and then stepping back. “I’ll bring up your coffee and cake now.”

Not that she gives me a chance to refute. Isotta’s gone before I bring the phone up to my ear. Yet when I do, I hear it. There’s a pain-filled sound that causes my heart to clench. “Brother? What’s wrong?” Augusto comes closer then, his head inclined a bit. I’m sure he’s trying to pick up bits and pieces of what Xadiel’s saying, the general’s aura tumultuous with worry, but right now that takes a back seat to the anguish of my brother-in-law’s wolf. His low howls are heartbreaking. “Xadiel, talk to me. Are you okay? Isa?”

“She’s gone.” It’s a garbled sound. More animal than man. “I need you to come home.”

“What do you mean gone? Where’s my sister, brother?”

“With Larue.” Two words are all it takes for a visceral rush of ire to run through every inch of my over six-foot frame. There’s no one in this world I despise more than the fae king. I want his head on a pike outside my bedroom window. I will cleanse the world of his filth—sanctify our future by ridding the world of the entire royal fae bloodline.

“How?” It’s grit out, the phone in my hand cracking in my hold. Small shards of glass hit my skin, leaving a trail of small cuts behind on my cheek that slowly began to bleed. I feel the few drops as they roll down my flesh and then onto my clothes, ruining the white t-shirt I’d put on this morning before training.

“He cut her where she’s the weakest. The arsehole threatened those—”

“She loves most,” I interject, finishing for him. Because if there’s one thing Isabella is, it’s unselfish. Giving. Honest. My sister carries the weight of the world on her shoulders silently to protect us, and I can’t be mad at her for this because I trust her.

Isa saw this. Of that I’m sure.

“…come home, Leo. I need your help.”

“I’ll be there in a few hours, brother. Keep the faith.” From the corner of my eye, I catch Augusto grabbing a small wooden chest from the shelves to my right. He doesn’t open it—can’t as it’s sealed and only to be unlocked by those of Moore bloodline—and then places it atop my desk. The general doesn’t speak but puts a closed fist over his heart before moving a few paces back and then taking a soldier's stance. Immobile. Waiting for orders. “She’d never willingly let herself be captured if she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, Xadiel. You know Isa loves you and would never leave you without just reason.”

“That’s what her first letter said.” There’s a hint of wistfulness in his tone, but that soon changes to desperation. Those two can’t be without each other. Their connection rivals the one my parents had, a deep and all-consuming true mates bond. “That I’d soon know what to do.”

“Do you trust her?”

“I do. With my life.”

If there’s a man in my life—people I respect—it’s them. Isabella and Xadiel have always been there for me and stepped up in whatever capacity I needed growing up. Made sure that I never missed out. Even now, my sister and her mate are closer to me than anyone.

Moreover, the only other person I consider a parental figure is missing, too.

Each one of them stepped in and took care of a teenager who at times was lost and alone. They taught me in their own way to control my anger when all I wanted to do was lash out.

“You said the first letter?”

“The second needs deciphering. It’s in an ancient language I’m not familiar with, but you and Gabriella are.” There are voices around him, familiar ones I’m picking up on now, and understand where he is. He’s gone to get help from my other sister and her mate, a vampire with underworld connections. “We’ll be back on my lands tonight. We’re leaving Seattle now.”

“And I’ll meet you there then. I’m coming.”

“Thank you.” This time, the reply sounds more like him. His beast is stepping back, and it’s an honor to know I’m someone Xadiel trusts. “Too many days have passed since her disappearance and I’m—we’re—not handling this well. My beast and I need her back in our arms.”

My brows furrow. “How long has she been gone, Xadiel?”

“Five days today.”

One less than Silla.

Goddess, please tell me this is a coincidence. “She’s not the only one missing,” I say, and my voice wavers as I do. That feeling of foreboding I’ve been battling against causes every muscle in my body to clench, the pain rippling through my chest. “We can’t find her.”

“Who? Who’s missing?”

“Aunt Silla.”

“How long has she been missing, Leo? Why didn’t you call me?”

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