Chapter 8 Chapter eight
The sun had long sunk behind the mountains, and the pack’s territory was blanketed in a twilight. The search for Ellie had stretched far beyond a single night. What began as a frantic search party had turned into an organized hunt led by Alpha Claus himself and Alpha Sylvia. The soldiers, the pack’s most elite warriors combed through the dense woods, their glowing eyes cutting through the shadows. But even their heightened senses found nothing , not even a scent trail, not a sound, not a clue.
“Spread out! Leave no stone unturned!” Sylvia’s voice boomed through the forest, sharp and commanding, laced with desperation.
“Yes, Alpha!” the soldiers echoed before scattering.
Claus stood a few paces behind him, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. His face was carved with exhaustion, though his pride would never allow him to show it. He watched Sylvia’s movements closely, the urgency in his tone, the way he clenched his fists every time a lead went cold. There was something in Sylvia’s eyes that Claus couldn’t ignore: fear. Not the kind of fear a brother-in-law feels for his lost sister-in-law, but something more personal, something his hand can't place.
As the moon rose higher, casting pale silver light across the forest, Claus’s wolf stirred within him, growling softly.
"You feel it too," Myke murmured. "He’s too desperate."
Claus’s eyes flickered gold for a moment. “I know, Ellie is still missing” he muttered under his breath. “ he have to be worry.”
Denial. Deep down his heart, he feel it too. But he can't show it out.
Hours bled into days. The pack was restless. The pack whispered about the queen’s disappearance. Some said she was dead. Others said she had been taken by witches who lurked beyond the border. But Claus couldn’t allow himself to believe it. He refused to believe that Ellie, his Ellie was gone.
It was all because of him. If he hasn't blindly accused her of cheating, this won't have happened. If anything happens to Ellie he won't be able to forgive himself.
On the third day, the search led them deep into the borderlands, where the air grew heavy and the trees seemed to whisper secrets. Claus moved beside Sylvia, his expression grim. “We’ve searched every inch of this land,” he said. “If she’s not here, she’s crossed the border.”
Sylvia turned sharply, his eyes flashing. “Then we keep going.”
Claus narrowed his eyes. “You know what crossing the border means. It’s forbidden for a reason. Even the moon goddess warned....”
“I don’t care about the goddess right now!” Sylvia snapped, his voice trembling with emotion. “Ellie is out there! She needs us!”
Claus’s chest tightened. He had never seen Sylvia like this before not even in battle. For the first time, he truly noticed it: the tremor in Sylvia’s voice when he spoke Ellie’s name, the wildness in his eyes, the way his entire body tensed as if the mere thought of losing her tore him apart. Claus had always believed Sylvia’s devotion to the queen was just ordinary. But now, doubt crept in like poison.
Myke might have sense something unusual.
Before Claus could reply, a shout echoed from ahead. “your majesty Alpha! Over here!”
Both men rushed toward the voice. A soldier stood beneath an ancient oak tree, holding something in his trembling hand. A small, torn piece of fabric. Claus recognized it instantly. His heart sank. It was the same shade of pale blue as Ellie’s cloak, the one she wore the day she vanished.
“It’s hers,” Sylvia whispered, snatching it from the soldier’s hand. He pressed it to his face, inhaling deeply. His shoulders shuddered, and for a fleeting moment, grief flickered in his eyes.
Claus clenched his fists. “Where did you find it?”
“Caught on that branch,” the soldier said, pointing upward. The fabric fluttered gently in the night breeze, like a silent cry for help.
“Then we keep moving,” Claus ordered, his voice low but steady. “She’s close. I can feel it.”
The soldiers formed ranks and advanced through the underbrush, weapons drawn. The deeper they went, the stranger the air became. The forest grew unnaturally quiet, no wind, no insects, no cry of small animal, no rustling of leaves. It was as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Then they saw it, a shimmering wall of light stretched between the trees. The barrier glowed with hues of violet and silver, humming softly.
Claus approached cautiously, his instincts screaming danger. “What is this?” he murmured.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and touched it. Instantly, he was thrown backward as if struck by lightning, his body crashing against the ground with a thud.
“Stay back!” Claus barked, kneeling beside the soldier. His pulse was steady, but he was unconscious.
Sylvia stared at the barrier, awe and fear warring on his face. “This… this is witch magic.”
“Which means Ellie might be beyond it,” Claus said darkly. “We have to find a way through.”
One by one, the soldiers tried, each attempt met with the same result. They were hurled back violently, some coughing blood, others groaning in pain. The air around the barrier pulsed stronger each time, as if feeding off their efforts.
Finally, Sylvia stepped forward.
“Don’t be a fool!” Claus warned. “You saw what happened....”
But Sylvia didn’t listen. His hand trembled as he reached for the barrier. The moment his fingers touched it, the light flared and then, to everyone’s shock, it softened. The magic shimmered around him, parting like mist. He stepped through effortlessly, the barrier rippling in his wake until he vanished beyond it.
The forest fell into stunned silence.
Claus stared, speechless. Every soldier around him stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Did… did he just...?” one whispered.
Myke his wolf snarled inside him, "uneasy. Only one bound with Ellie could cross," it growled.
Claus’s heart pounded in his chest. A realization as cold as ice crept up his spine. “Sylvia,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “What are you to her?”
The others looked to him for answers, but Claus had none. All he knew was that something powerful, something dangerous tied Sylvia to Ellie. And whatever it was, it had just changed everything.