The Royal Heirs #43: Emma

The Royal Heirs #43: Emma

Night had fallen outside my office window, the palace gardens transformed into silhouettes against the darkening sky. I traced my finger along the rim of my untouched wineglass, watching shadows stretch across the polished wood of my desk. The dinner tray sat before me—some elaborate creation featuring roasted vegetables and herb-crusted lamb that normally would have tempted me. But my appetite had abandoned me hours ago, chased away by betrayal and the sickening images of those mutilated toy wolves. The twins kicked restlessly within me, as if sharing my unease or perhaps just protesting my decision to skip lunch earlier in the day.

"You need to eat something," I murmured, placing my hand on the swell of my belly. "I'm sorry I'm being difficult."

Artemis hummed within me, her golden presence a mixture of protectiveness and lingering anger. Pups need strength, she insisted. Mate lied, but pups innocent.

She had a point. I forced myself to take a bite of the lamb, the flavors registering as nothing more than texture in my mouth. Two more bites followed, mechanical and joyless, but it was sustenance. The children needed it, even if I couldn't bring myself to care.

My phone sat beside the dinner tray, silent and accusatory. I picked it up, scrolling through my recent calls until I found Elijah's number. My brother would understand this mess, would help me make sense of Theo's betrayal and these threats. Elijah had always been my touchstone, my voice of reason when emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

The call went straight to voicemail after four rings. "This is Alpha Maxwell. Leave a message." His recorded voice sounded distant, formal—nothing like the teasing warmth he usually reserved for me.

"El, it's me," I said after the beep. "I need to talk to you. It's... it's important. Call me back when you can."

I was hanging up when the text message arrived.

Sorry, Sis. Still tied up with those security issues I mentioned. Will call when I can. Hope all is well with you and the babies.

I stared at the message, something cold settling in my stomach. The words were right—concerned, brotherly—but the tone felt wrong. Elijah never dismissed me like this, especially not when I explicitly said something was important. And since when did he use "Sis" in texts? It was a nickname he used in person, with that half-smile of his, not something he typed.

Maybe Elena would answer. My fingers found her number, hope mingling with growing unease as I listened to it ring.

"Hi, you've reached Elena Maxwell. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as possible."

I ended the call without leaving a message, frustration building behind my breastbone. Almost immediately, my phone pinged with another text, this one from Elena.

Hey Emma! Sorry I missed your call. Things are crazy here with pack business. How are my nieces doing? Text me updates! Love you!

Too bright. Too many exclamation points. Elena was warm but measured, not effusive with punctuation. And "text me updates" when I had barely shared anything about the twins with her? When I hadn't even told her they were girls?

Artemis growled within me. Something wrong.

"I know," I whispered, staring at the two messages side by side.

This wasn't new. For weeks, I'd been getting the same treatment—brief texts, missed calls, excuses about pack business. At first, I'd attributed it to the distance, to the demands of running Blood Moon while I adjusted to royal life. Then to increased security concerns after my attack. But now, with these messages feeling so... wrong... I couldn't ignore the pattern anymore.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. The twins protested the sudden movement with sharp kicks against my ribs, but I barely registered the discomfort. Something was very wrong. My brother—my overprotective, call-three-times-a-day-to-check-on-me brother—would never be this distant, especially after learning I'd been attacked. Not the Elijah who had once run through a blizzard because I'd sounded "off" on the phone.

My fingers found Chief Simpson's number before I'd fully formulated a plan. He answered on the second ring.

"Your Majesty?"

"I need to see you immediately," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "In my office. It's urgent."

He didn't question me. "I'll be there in five minutes."

It was less than that before a sharp knock at my door announced his arrival. I called for him to enter, but when the door opened, it wasn't just Simpson who appeared. Theo stood directly behind him, his amber eyes wide with concern, hair disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly.

I deliberately turned away from my husband, focusing entirely on Simpson. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course, Your Majesty." His weathered face betrayed nothing, though he surely felt the tension crackling between Theo and me.

"Emma," Theo began, stepping forward. "Please, just let me—"

"Chief Simpson," I cut across Theo's plea, my voice low but firm. "Something is wrong. Very wrong in Blood Moon with my brother and sister-in-law."

Simpson's professional demeanor shifted subtly, his attention sharpening. "What makes you believe so, Your Majesty?"

I explained quickly—the pattern of avoided calls, the increasingly strange text messages, the way both of them seemed to be reading from some script rather than speaking as themselves. "My brother has never, in thirty years, been too busy to talk to me when I needed him. Especially not after I was attacked. It's like... like he's been replaced by someone else." My voice broke slightly on the last words, fear finally seeping through my carefully maintained composure.

"When did you last speak with them directly? Actually hear their voices?" Simpson asked, already pulling out his phone.

"Three weeks ago. Since then, it's been nothing but texts and emails." I pulled up the most recent messages, handing him my phone. "These came just minutes ago."

Simpson scanned them quickly, his expression revealing nothing. "With your permission, I'd like to trace their phones."

"Do it," I said immediately. "Please."

He stepped aside, speaking quietly into his phone. I felt Theo's eyes on me, but I couldn't look at him, couldn't risk seeing the concern there when I was still so angry about his deception.

Simpson's conversation was brief, direct. He gave Elijah's and Elena's numbers, then waited, his gaze occasionally flicking between Theo and me. His phone buzzed less than two minutes later.

"Both phones are active," he reported, looking up from his screen. "They're pinging from the same location—somewhere in the middle of Blackwood Forest, approximately two hours northeast of the Royal City."

"Blackwood Forest?" I repeated, confusion momentarily overtaking my worry. "That makes no sense. Blood Moon territory is nowhere near there. Why would they be in Blackwood?"

Artemis growled, the sound almost audible in the quiet room. Trap, she insisted.

"Is it possible their phones were taken there deliberately?" I asked, the implications of that possibility sending a chill through me. "That they're not actually with their devices?"

Simpson's expression turned grave. "It's certainly possible, Your Majesty. And considering your concerns about their behaviour... I think we need to investigate this immediately."

"Who controls that area?" I asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't reassure me. Blackwood Forest had featured in enough security briefings for me to recognise the name, though I couldn't place the specific context.

Simpson and Theo exchanged a look—the first moment of unity between them since they'd entered my office.

"That's Silver Crescent adjacent territory," Simpson said carefully. "Not directly under Benjamin Thorne's control, but historically friendly to his pack."

The twins went still within me, as if they too sensed the danger in those words. My brother and his mate, potentially in territory controlled by the man who had tried to force me to be his. The man who had orchestrated an attack on me and my unborn daughters.

"We need to find them," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Now."