Chapter 25 Chapter 25: Empty Rooms

Chapter 25 Chapter 25: Empty Rooms

The drive back to Ironwood felt longer than the distance deserved. The armored SUV ate the mountain road in silence, headlights carving pale tunnels through the pre-dawn dark. Damon drove, hands steady on the wheel, jaw set in that way that meant he was thinking three moves ahead.

I sat in the passenger seat, knees drawn up, staring out at the blur of pines without really seeing them. The bond between us thrummed low and tense—not painful, just… aware. Like he could feel every ragged breath I took and was holding himself still so I wouldn’t shatter.

Elena had called ahead. Her voice had been clipped, professional, but the undercurrent of worry bled through even over the encrypted line. Lila was missing. That was all she’d said at first. Missing. Not kidnapped. Not fled. Just… gone.

I kept replaying the last moment I’d seen her—outside the pack house after the vigil, hugging me tight, smelling of northern pine and old grief. “Guard your home while you guard your past,” she’d said. “Be safe. And come back. He’s worth it.
” Her smile had been small, steady, but her eyes had been guarded. I should have asked why. I should have pressed. Instead, I’d let her stay behind, thinking she needed space from Crescent Vale’s ghosts. Now those ghosts might have taken her.

We rolled through the first checkpoint just as the sky began to bruise purple. Guards snapped salutes; Damon returned them without slowing. The compound gates opened before we even reached them—Elena’s doing, no doubt. 
She waited at the main entrance, arms crossed, blonde hair pulled back so severely it looked like armor. Her gray eyes flicked to me first, then to Damon. She didn’t waste time on greetings. 
“She’s been gone since just after two this morning,” Elena said as we climbed out. “Security feed shows her leaving her quarters on foot. Walked straight toward the northern perimeter like she was going for a run. Then—” She made a small, frustrated gesture. “—nothing. 

The camera cuts to static for exactly seven seconds. When it comes back, she’s gone. No scent trail past the ward line. No footprints. No blood. No sign of struggle. ” My stomach dropped. “Show me. ”Elena led us through the compound’s quiet corridors. Dawn light was just beginning to filter through the high windows, turning everything soft and gray. 
Lila’s quarters were at the end of the guest wing—private, defensible, the kind of room given to someone the pack trusted but didn’t quite claim. The door stood open. Two of Damon’s wolves stood guard outside, expressions blank but eyes sharp.
Inside smelled like her—cedar smoke, faint wildflowers, the clean bite of mountain air that always clung to her clothes. The bed was made with military precision. A half-read book on Norse pack legends lay face down on the nightstand. Nothing looked out of place.

Except for the journal. It sat open on the small desk by the window, spine cracked, pages splayed. I crossed the room in three strides and stared down at the exposed entry. The handwriting was Lila’s—neat, deliberate, the way she did everything.
The page was titled Old Crescent Vale Burial Rites. Below it, a single sentence had been underlined twice in fresh black ink: “Some things should stay buried.
”My throat closed. I reached out, fingers hovering over the page but not quite touching it. Beside the journal lay a sheet of loose paper—half a letter, pen still resting across it like she’d been interrupted mid-thought.
If you’re reading this, Kira, I couldn’t let the past stay silent any longer. There are things your mother never told you, things my mother carried to her grave. I thought I could protect you from them, but—The sentence ended there. No signature. No closing. Just an abrupt stop, as though she’d heard something and walked away.
Damon came up behind me. He didn’t touch the paper, just read over my shoulder. Through the bond I felt his pulse kick—once, hard—then settle into cold focus. “She was writing to you,” he said quietly.
I nodded, unable to speak. Elena stepped into the doorway. “No forced entry. Windows are locked from the inside. The door was latched when the patrol checked at 2:00 a.m. She left on her own two feet. But she didn’t come back.

”I forced my voice steady. “The trail?” “Faint. Her scent heads north toward the forest line, then stops dead at the outer ward markers. Like she walked through the boundary and kept going—but nothing picks up on the other side. No tracks. No broken branches. Nothing.
”I turned away from the desk, arms wrapped around my middle. “I should have asked her more. After the vigil. She looked… haunted. I thought it was just grief. I let her stay here alone. ”Damon’s hand settled on my shoulder—light, but firm enough to anchor me. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have. ”Elena cleared her throat. “There’s more. Over the last month, she’s made four trips to the neutral trading post libraries. Subtle questions—old territorial markers, founding wards, boundary rites. Never directly about Crescent Vale or the relic, but close enough that the archivists remembered her. She was careful. Too careful. 
”The word hung between us. Careful could mean cautious. It could also mean hiding. “She’s not a spy,” I said, sharper than I intended. “She lost her mother the same way mine was taken. She hates Crescent Vale for what happened there. She wouldn’t sell us out.
”Elena didn’t argue. She just met my eyes. “Then someone took her. Or something called her. ”Damon’s voice cut through the tension. “Expanded patrols on the northern perimeter. Triple the camera sweeps. Pull the full archive logs from the libraries—she may have left a trail in the requests. 
And get Seth on the line. ”We moved to the strategy room. The long table was already covered in maps, patrol routes marked in red. Elena patched Seth through on the secure screen. His face appeared gaunt, eyes shadowed, but steady. Alpha now, whether he felt ready or not.
“Kira,” he said first. “You okay?” “No. But I will be.” I swallowed. “Lila’s gone—no trace past the wards. ”Seth cursed under his breath. “I’m sending three scouts to sweep the neutral zone between our borders. Mara’s with me—she says Rowan’s execution may have stirred something—old protections. 
Blood on sacred ground can wake things that have been sleeping a long time. ”Mara’s voice came through from off-screen, thin but sharp. “The land remembers, child. If Lila was asking about burial rites… she may have touched something that noticed her back.
”I pressed my palms flat on the table. “We need to find her. Now. ”Damon nodded to Elena. “Coordinate with Seth’s scouts. I want overlapping grids by noon. ”The meeting broke. Seth signed off, promising updates within the hour. 
Elena left to relay orders. The room emptied until it was just Damon and me. I started pacing—three steps to the window, three back. The silver glow from the burial sites had been faint reports until now. Flickers. Whispers. But if Rowan’s death had stirred something…Damon stepped into my path. His hands settled on my shoulders—gentle, but unyielding. I stopped mid-stride.
“We’ll find her,” he said, voice low and certain. I looked up at him. Steel-gray eyes steady. No promises he couldn’t keep. Just truth. My breath shuddered out. Then—small, reluctant surrender—I leaned forward until my forehead rested against his chest. His shirt smelled of pine and smoke and him. I stayed there, counting heartbeats. Ten. Fifteen. His hand slid to the back of my neck, thumb brushing once along my hairline. No words. No pressure. Just presence. When I finally pulled back, my eyes were wet, but my voice was steady. “I won’t lose anyone else to secrets.
”He nodded once. “Then we dig until there are no secrets left. ”We stood like that another heartbeat—close, quiet—before the door opened again. A northern patrol wolf burst in, breathing hard. “Alpha Reed. Luna Thorne.
”Damon turned without releasing my shoulder. “Report.” “ its about Lila, what about her I said. The guard replied ‘’she is a traitor’’.