Page 45 of Claimed

I am trying not to imagine the worst, that she is either dead, or being in some way violated. It is not in my habit to be helpless. But vampires are not like normal men, or even like wolves. If she was in the custody of either of those types of being, I would have her already.

My temper has become uncontrollable. Where I walk, the pack cowers. I do my best to keep myself functional, but an alpha should never lose his mate, and I lost mine so very quickly.

This is the most personally painful and humiliating experience I’ve ever had, and it is turning me into a beast I no longer recognize. I turn often, traveling vast distances by paw to try tocatch her scent. I do not catch so much as a hint of her on the breeze. She has not just been taken. It feels as though she has been entirely erased from the planet.

Before meeting Anya, I was aware that I had not yet found my mate, but my daily experiences felt satisfying regardless. I focused on the needs of my pack, and of the businesses I run. There were challenges and victories, friends and enemies. There was sunlight.

All of that is gone. I feel only the night, see only the shadows. All joy has drained from my existence. My every thought is devoted to Anya, to the short days we had with one another and to the future that has been snatched away from me.

I should care that the pack will be left without an heir, but I cannot be persuaded to care about anything. It is not within me to be concerned about anything, including myself.

Even in this deepest despair, there is a sliver of hope. No body has been found, and it is generally considered that my mate is still alive. Sometimes I imagine that I can feel her, connected to me by a long thread that will not snap as long as both of us draw breath.

I will search for her every day of my life, as long or as short as it might be.

My brother and Elena have convinced me to temporarily stop killing vampires. They say my point has been made, and that it is time to see what move the creatures make next. I smell the lust on the both of them when they are in a room together. They are distracted by their own mate bond. I do not begrudge them. If I am to pass away in the effort to reclaim Anya, the pack will be in safe hands with the pair of them.

It may be morning, afternoon, evening, or the very depths of night when Piotr enters my presence. I have stopped caring for things like time of day. The sun and the moon are irrelevant if I cannot have Anya. I pace my office and I think of killing those who have deprived me of my mate.

My vengeance will be brutal and complete. I dream of death, day and night—except when I sleep. In my sleep, I dream of Anya. I feel her in my arms, I smell her scent, and I feel her body against mine. Waking from slumber, I sometimes forget that she is not here with me. I reach for her, or try to hold her closer, and I find myself with an armful of nothing.

Before meeting Anya, I was always so calm and so contained. I had no lingering, crushing, terrible sense of loss that now seems to suffuse me with every breath I take. I miss Anya. I crave her. And I cannot forgive myself for allowing her to be stolen from the very place she should have been the most safe in the world.

“My alpha?”

I realize someone has been trying to get my attention for quite some time. Piotr has his head in the door. It is rare that the ranking pack members come to see me now. I have been biting heads off, declaring I will see nobody unless they have some kind of resolution to the matter.

“What is it?”

He opens the door and actually dares to enter my presence. Nobody has dared do that in quite some time—but he seems quite confident as he announces:

“My alpha, there is word from the vampires.”

“What did they say?”

“They’ve given us an address and a time.”

I extend my hand for the piece of paper he is holding. The address, that is all I care about. The time is irrelevant. I will not be going to see this vampire for a cordial meeting. I am going to reclaim my mate, and ensure that she can never be taken from me again.

Glancing at the paper, I discover it is more like a card. It is formal, gilt-edged, and hand-written in script, which suggests a practiced talent for calligraphy. Exactly the sort of soft bullshit that a vampire would waste time doing while holding the love of my life hostage. The flourishes on various letters make me near incandescent with rage.

I start walking. I need to get a car. Now.

“It could be a trap,” Piotr says, a slight note of panic in his voice. “Why would the vampire hold her all this time, and then simply send us a card with his address on it? It has to be a trap. We should consult with Vlad and Elena.”

I answer over my shoulder, barely bothering to turn my head. “I don’t care.”

At this stage, running headlong into a trap would be preferable to simply existing in the castle. I would undergo any amount of pain, endure any humiliation for the chance at reuniting with my mate.

I get in the fastest car we have, I set the satnav to the address, and I go.

I am faintly aware that others in the pack are no doubt following at a safe distance. I am sure Piotr has a copy of the address andknows where I am going. I don’t care what they do. I don’t care what they say. I do not care what they think.

I am so single-minded in this moment that any thought, let alone any discussion would be as perverse a thing as I could imagine.

Anya

“You’ve been melancholy,” Dom says.

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