Chapter 117 — The King on the Hunt

Chapter 117 — The King on the Hunt
Caius POV

The scent hit him first.

Not in the physical world, but somewhere older. Deeper. A pulse that cracked through the bone and marrow of his being. It wasn’t just Cass—though she blazed like a star now—it was the pup. Their child. The bloodline reborn. The bond had awakened, and Caius could feel every thread of it burning under his skin like fire baptized in ice.

He moved with purpose now, each step echoing with ancient authority. The crown on his brow was no longer ceremonial—it was a mantle forged in prophecy, and it was Cass who had lit the flame.

But beneath the fury, beneath the drive to reclaim what was his, guilt coiled like a serpent.

He had been cruel to her.

Before she was taken, his words had cut deep. His silence deeper. He had doubted her when she needed his belief the most. Had questioned her motives, her loyalty—because of his own fear. And now, knowing she had endured Alder’s captivity alone, while carrying his child, that guilt became unbearable.

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. But he would earn the right to ask for it.

Kalen followed close behind, his face grim. “We’ve confirmed movement near the Blackwood border. Alder’s men are scouting in widening circles. They’re hunting—but not just for territory.”

“They’re looking for her,” Caius growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Kalen nodded. “They know she felt your rise.”

Caius’s hands clenched into fists. “They also know she’s carrying the future of our kind.”

His voice cracked slightly, not with weakness—but something far more dangerous. Emotion.

He stepped into the war tent, where commanders had gathered in silence. Maps covered the long table, but Caius didn’t need them. His senses were pulling northward. To the mountains. To her.

“She’s in the stone tower,” he said, not bothering to explain how he knew. “Alder’s keeping her bound with old magic—but it’s cracking. She broke through the tether today. I felt her. The child did too.”

Gasps rippled across the tent.

“Is she safe?” Kalen asked.

Caius’s jaw twitched. “For now. But Alder felt it too. He’ll panic. He’ll try to suppress it. Maybe even harm her to reassert control.”

His claws pierced the edge of the table, splintering wood. No one dared speak.

“She trusted me,” he said suddenly, quieter now. “Even when I gave her every reason not to. She looked at me like I was still good. Even after I shut her out. She begged me to let her explain—begged—and I turned my back.”

Kalen said nothing. He knew his Alpha was not speaking to him now, but to the ghosts that walked beside him.

Caius closed his eyes. He could see her in his memory—wet cheeks, trembling mouth, the moment before she was taken. He hadn’t gone after her. He hadn’t realized what he had until the bond fell silent.

Until it was too late.

Until now.

“I won’t fail her again,” he said.

“Then we move tonight,” Kalen said, drawing a blade.

Caius met his gaze. “We don’t just move. We hunt. Quiet. Fast. Clean. I want no blood spilled that doesn’t deserve it. And when I reach her…”

He trailed off. The fury burning in his chest didn’t need words.

No one would touch her again.

He stepped outside, letting the cool air crash against his face. Stars glittered above, but it was the wind that spoke to him. Carried her scent like a prayer. Moonlight hit his face, and for the first time since donning the crown, he smiled.

But it didn’t reach his eyes.

He was still haunted.

Because the last thing he had said to Cass before she was taken wasn’t an oath or a promise or a word of love.

It was a command. Cold. Final. "Leave."

He’d convinced himself it was for her safety. That if she stayed, the others would question him more. That he could protect her better from afar.

But he hadn’t protected her.

She had gone to protect his pride, his pack, his future. And instead, she had been stolen. Caged.

And now she bore his son while locked in another man’s tower.

“I’m coming, Cass,” he whispered.

He pressed a hand to the ground, fingers splayed wide, eyes glowing faintly with the silver fire of the bloodline. “I swear to the old gods and the new—nothing will stop me this time.”

Behind him, the camp stirred. Horses were saddled. Weapons checked. They were ready.

But Caius waited.

He stood still under the moonlight, eyes closed, reaching across the tether.

Where are you, he thought. Where are you, little wolf?

And for a heartbeat, he swore he felt her.

Fear. And strength.

A trembling pulse of magic like a heartbeat in the dark.

She was holding on. But she was growing tired.

And Caius—her mate, her king—was done waiting.

“Send scouts ahead,” he murmured to Kalen, who appeared beside him. “I want eyes on that tower within twenty-four hours.”

Kalen nodded. “And if they find a warded perimeter?”

Caius’s jaw set. “We mark it. Test the limits. But no one breaks it without my word.”

“We’ll need to move in small numbers to avoid detection,” Kalen added. “If Alder sees you coming—”

“He won’t.” Caius looked toward the mountains. “He doesn’t know the land like I do.”

Another commander approached, a young one—Rian, barely out of his first transformation, but fierce and fast. “Alpha, if I may—we could split the second unit through the river pass. Come up under the ridge. They won’t expect movement from there.”

Caius nodded. “Do it. Take two of our best with you. If anything feels wrong, you fall back. This isn’t about glory.”

“It’s about her,” Kalen said quietly.

“Yes.” Caius’s eyes darkened. “It’s about her.”

The command tent faded behind him as he walked again toward the edge of camp. The wind whispered through the trees like a forgotten lullaby, and every breath he took was a prayer wrapped in desperation.

Let her be strong.

Let her be safe.

Let me be enough when I find her.