Chapter 211 CHAPTER 211
The scent had not been easy to follow.
Alpha Reed stood at the edge of the small park just beyond the Blackwood residence, his gaze sweeping the quiet space where laughter should have been, where children should have been running beneath the fading light of evening days gone by. Now, it was empty—too still, too clean, as though something had passed through and taken more than just presence.
He had started at their home.
Quietly. Carefully.
No one had seen him.
The house still carried their scent—faint but familiar—woven into the walls, the furniture, the life they had lived inside it. But from there, the trail had been disrupted. Torn apart. Masked.
Deliberately.
Reed crouched slightly, his fingers brushing lightly against the ground where the scent had once been stronger. He inhaled slowly, deeply, letting the world narrow around that single thread of trace.
It was there.
Barely.
Like something trying not to exist.
Most would have missed it entirely.
But Reed was not most.
He had been trained to track what others could not see, could not feel, could not even recognize as present. And beyond training, there was instinct—a quiet, natural ability that had sharpened over years until it became something almost second nature.
“They tried to hide you,” he murmured under his breath.
The scent did not move cleanly. It twisted, broke, reformed in fragments, as though someone had dragged it through layers of confusion, trying to bury it beneath false trails and fading markers.
But no matter how well it was hidden….
It existed.
And that was enough.
Reed straightened slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he followed the faint pull forward.
Step by step, the trail revealed itself in pieces, each fragment leading to another, each broken path stitched together by patience and precision. It led him beyond the park, beyond the familiar edges of Mooncrest territory, stretching outward until the air itself began to change.
Different.
Colder.
Carrying the distant echo of another land.
Silverpine.
Reed slowed slightly as he crossed the invisible boundary, his senses sharpening further. The scent had grown clearer now—not because it was no longer masked, but because whoever had hidden it had not expected anyone to follow it this far.
That had been their mistake.
The trail led him deeper into Silverpine, winding through quiet paths and familiar grounds until it stopped.
At a house.
Reed stood still for a moment, his gaze settling on the structure before him.
The house seemed abandoned.
Or at least…
It was supposed to be.
He approached slowly, his steps silent against the earth, his senses extending outward. The air around the house was still, but not empty.
There.
Faint.
Human scent.
Alive.
Reed’s expression hardened.
Without hesitation, he moved to the door and pushed it open.
The hinges creaked softly.
Inside, the air was stale, untouched by life for what should have been weeks—yet beneath it lingered something else. Fear. Hunger. Exhaustion.
He followed it.
To the back room.
And then he saw them.
A man and two young girls, bound tightly with rope, slumped against the cold wall. Their clothes were wrinkled, their faces pale, their bodies weakened from days without proper food or water.
For a moment, Reed did not move.
Then he stepped forward quickly.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You’re safe.”
The man’s head lifted slowly, his eyes unfocused at first before sharpening slightly with confusion and disbelief.
“W-who…?” he tried to speak, his voice dry and strained.
Reed crouched beside them, already working at the ropes.
“My name is Reed,” he said. “I’m here to get you out.”
The man blinked, trying to process the words.
“My daughters…” he rasped.
“I see them,” Reed said gently. “They’re going to be alright.”
He loosened the ropes carefully, first from the children, then from the man, making sure not to move too quickly as circulation returned to their limbs.
The younger girl whimpered faintly as the bindings came off, her small body trembling.
“It’s okay,” Reed said quietly. “You’re safe now.”
The man pulled his daughters closer instinctively, his arms weak but determined as he held them.
“What… happened?” Reed asked, his tone soft but focused. “Do you remember anything?”
The man shook his head slowly.
“We were at the park,” he said, his voice uneven. “Waiting for my wife. The girls were playing…” He swallowed. “And then—nothing.”
Reed watched him carefully.
“No struggle?” he asked.
“No,” the man whispered. “No sound. No… warning. Just—darkness. And then we woke up here.”
Reed exhaled slowly.
Witchcraft.
There was no doubt.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Reed turned slightly as someone entered the room, the presence sharp and alert. The man stopped abruptly at the sight before him, his expression shifting from confusion to shock as his eyes moved over the weakened family.
“What—what is this?”
He stepped closer, then suddenly stilled, recognition flashing across his face.
“Alpha Reed?” he said, his voice caught between surprise and urgency. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”
Reed straightened slightly but did not step away from the family.
“They brought me here,” he said, nodding faintly toward the man and the two children. “They were taken and hidden here. I tracked them.”
Mason’s brows drew together, confusion deepening.
“That’s not possible,” he said, shaking his head slightly as he glanced around the room. “This house has been empty since Leonard and Mara were taken to the facility. They were broken after everything that happened… after being in Sarah’s hold for years. And their son…” his voice lowered slightly, “…their son still hasn’t been found.”
Reed’s gaze remained steady.
“They are not the ones who have been taken,” he said.
Mason stepped closer, his eyes settling again on the man and his daughters, taking in their condition—the ropes, the weakness, the fear that still lingered in their expressions.
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly. “No one reported anything.”
Reed said nothing.
Mason exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting briefly toward the walls of the house as if seeing it differently now.
“What is it with this house?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “The Leonards have been through enough already… losing their son and now this…”
Reed glanced at him then.
“From what I hear,” he said, his tone measured, “their son has already been found.”
Mason stilled.
“…What?”
“He’s dead,” Reed said quietly. “The body is being prepared. It will be brought back for burial soon, I believe.”
Silence fell into the room.
Mason looked away briefly, his jaw tightening as he absorbed the weight of that.
“I’ll tell the Leonards,” he said after a moment, his voice low but steady. “Gently. They deserve to know.”
Reed gave a small nod.
Then Mason looked back at him, hesitation flickering across his face.
“Our Alpha,” he said slowly. “And the elders… they went to Mooncrest. They haven’t returned.”
Reed’s expression remained unreadable.
“There are rumors,” Mason continued. “That they’ve been imprisoned.”
A pause.
“Is that true?”
Reed met his gaze calmly.
“I’m not here to discuss Mooncrest,” he said. “I came for them.”
Mason studied him for a moment, then nodded once.
“Understood.”
Reed turned back to the family.
“We’re leaving,” he said. “Now.”
The man nodded weakly, pulling his daughters closer as Reed helped them to their feet.
And as they stepped out of the house—
The quiet of Silverpine felt different.
Because something hidden had been found.
And something far more dangerous—
Had just been confirmed.