Chapter 39 Lyra's gone!
Lyra's POV
The rogues dragged me deeper into the forest. Pine branches whipped across my face, and the sounds of the party faded to a distant murmur behind us.
"Let me go!" I snarled.
The gray wolf laughed. "Not so fast, little wolf. We're just getting started."
They hauled me into a small clearing. The smaller rogue shoved me to my knees. The vampire moved silently to stand behind me, his cold presence making my wolf recoil in terror.
"You know what's interesting?" the gray wolf circled me slowly. "Your scent. It's not just any wolf. You smell like..." He leaned closer, inhaling deeply. "Blackthorne."
Ice flooded my veins. "You're wrong."
"Am I?" He grinned, revealing those yellowed fangs. "You're Dorian's mate, aren't you? The little arrangement everyone whispers about."
The vampire's cold voice cut through the night air like a blade. "The Blackthorne heir's precious mate, all alone in the woods. How... disappointing for you."
"He's not—" I started, but the gray wolf backhanded me across the face, the force sending me sprawling.
"Don't lie to us," he growled. "We can smell his mark on you. How disappointing for you that he's not here to protect his investment."
I spat blood from my split lip, my wolf howling with rage inside me. But she was right, Dorian wasn't coming. I'd turned toward the parking area just before they'd dragged me away, catching a glimpse of his SUV's taillights disappearing into the night.
He'd chosen Seraphina. Again.
The smaller rogue grabbed my hair, yanking my head back while the vampire stepped closer, his pale features gleaming in the moonlight. "Look here, Blackthorne's little mate, abandoned by him in the forest."
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"Relocation," the vampire replied with a cold smile, his fangs catching the moonlight. "Your precious mate made it very clear he doesn't want you anymore. He's given us permission to relocate you to the Northern Realm, where you'll be... useful."
"You're lying!" I snarled.
The gray wolf let out a harsh laugh. "Are we? He drove away with his real mate, didn't he? Left you here all alone. We're just cleaning up his mess, little wolf. Dorian owes us favors, and removing an unwanted arranged mate? That's just good business."
"He wouldn't—" I started, but the vampire's mocking laughter cut me off.
"Wouldn't he? Look around, sweetheart. Where is he? Still think your 'mate' cares about you?" The vampire leaned closer, his breath cold against my face. "He's probably celebrating his freedom right now. You still have some value in the Northern Realm, and this arrangement works perfectly for everyone. Well, everyone except you."
The words hit like poison, but I forced myself to focus. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"
The smaller rogue's eyes flashed with malicious amusement while the vampire smiled, revealing his deadly fangs. "You don't have a choice, little wolf."
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Dorian's POV
Moon Shadow Bay Central Hospital's emergency entrance was brightly lit, a stark contrast to the darkness we'd just left. I helped Seraphina out of the passenger seat, her face pale and drawn with pain.
"Almost there," I murmured, supporting her weight as we approached the automatic doors.
My wolf paced restlessly inside me, his agitation growing with each step.
Something was wrong.
I paused just outside the entrance, my head turning instinctively toward the direction of Silver Lake. The distance was too great to see anything, but my wolf's unease was impossible to ignore.
"Dorian?" Seraphina's voice was strained. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," I admitted, scanning the night sky. "Something feels... off."
Seraphina's grip on my arm tightened. "Don't leave me," she whispered. "I need you."
I pushed down my wolf's protests and guided her inside. The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit me immediately, along with the underlying scent of fear and pain that permeated all medical facilities.
Within minutes, Seraphina was whisked away by medical staff. I paced the waiting room, my wolf's agitation making it impossible to sit still.
"Mr. Blackthorne?" A doctor in green scrubs approached. "Your companion has acute appendicitis. We need to operate immediately."
I nodded, though my attention was divided. Shadow sack inflammation was painful but rarely life-threatening, it was a fairly routine procedure for werewolf medicine.
"How long will the surgery take?" I asked.
"About an hour. She'll need to stay overnight for observation."
I found myself standing by the window, staring out toward Silver Lake. The ache in my chest was growing stronger, a pulling sensation I couldn't explain.
Seraphina's earlier words echoed in my mind: "Lyra was just trying to get your attention. She cheated you, remember? She's in the party area with Caleb. She'll be fine."
At the time, her logic had made sense. Lyra had been angry, defiant. The scream could have been a manipulation, a desperate attempt to regain my attention.
But now, with distance and clarity, I remembered the pure terror in that cry. The raw desperation that had made my wolf surge forward, demanding action.
I closed my eyes and reached out through our bond, searching for Lyra's presence.
What I felt made my blood run cold.
Fear. Raw, primal fear. And beneath it, pain.
This wasn't performance. This wasn't manipulation.
Lyra was in real danger.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. The screen showed Caleb's name, but hospital policy strictly prohibited cell phone use in patient areas. I glanced toward the surgical wing where Seraphina was being prepped for surgery.
The phone continued to buzz, insistent and urgent.
I made a decision and stepped into an empty consultation room, closing the door behind me.
"Caleb, what—"
"Dorian, Lyra's gone!" His voice was tight with panic. "I've searched the entire party area. She's nowhere to be found!"
The phone slipped from my suddenly nerveless fingers, clattering to the floor.
The scream I'd heard hadn't been manipulation.
It had been a cry for help.
And I'd driven away.