Chapter 220

Chapter 220
CASSIAN

Six months later

Six months had passed. Six months of looking for Derek. The last piece to the puzzle. Six months of searching. Six months of Wren growing our baby. Six months of my sister finding love and her mate. Six months of the pack thriving.

It felt like we had everything, but one thing was missing, we still hadn’t found Derek. Every lead Reed and I followed ended the same way, empty houses, burnt trails, broken clues. It was as if he’d vanished off the face of the earth.

But the one thing that had changed most… was Wren.

She was almost eight months pregnant now, her belly round and heavy. Every time I looked at her, pride mixed with fear twisted inside me. She was too small for this. Too fragile. Her fox body wasn’t built to carry a wolf pup. Every movement looked like a battle she was quietly fighting.

Some days, I hated myself for letting her go through this, but she would tell me she was happy to carry our child. Elated even. Her joy and excitement was infectious, despite the curse that hung over our head.

Still, I saw the truth in her eyes, she was just as scared as I was. Terrified even.

The clock was ticking, time was going, fast

That morning, I stood by the window, watching the sun rise over the pack lands. Wren was sitting in the chair behind me, bundled in a blanket, a cup of tea in her hands. Her hair framed her face like a dark curtain, her face was pale, her breaths soft and shallow.

“You should be lying down,” I said gently.

She looked up, her voice faint but teasing. “And miss the sunrise? Not a chance.”

I smiled a little, walking over to kneel beside her. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I’m surviving,” she corrected, sipping her tea carefully. “There’s a difference.”

I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re doing more than surviving, Wren. You’re carrying our child. That’s more strength than I’ve ever seen.”

Her eyes softened. “Don’t make me cry. I’ll blame the hormones.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said honestly.

She laughed weakly and leaned back. “How’s the Cantana lead?”

I hesitated before answering. “We’re still looking, hopefully he's there.”

That look, hope mixed with worry, flashed across her face again. “It’s been six months, Cassian. What if we never find him and time runs out?”

“He’ll be found,” I said firmly. “Don't worry. I won’t give up.”

She nodded slowly, setting her cup down. “I know you won’t.”

A knock sounded on the door, and Reed stepped in, holding something behind his back.

“Morning, Alpha,” he said with a grin. “And for you, Luna.”

Wren raised a brow. “Why are you smiling like that?”

He stepped aside, revealing a sleek, black wheelchair. “Because I got you this.”

Wren blinked, clearly surprised. “A wheelchair?”

Reed chuckled. “You said you wanted to be at Sybil’s wedding, right? Now you don’t have an excuse to skip it.”

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she didn’t speak. Then she looked at me. “You did this?”

I shook my head. “Reed suggested it. But I fully support it.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the chair. “It’s… perfect.”

“Don’t get emotional on me now,” Reed said quickly, looking alarmed. “Sybil will have my head if you start crying before her big day.”

Wren laughed softly, wiping her eyes. “Thank you, Reed. Really.”

He nodded. “Just promise me you’ll use it. No walking around like you’re made of steel, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “I promise.”

After Reed left, Wren ran her fingers along the chair’s armrests, her expression thoughtful. “He didn’t have to do that.”

“Reed cares about you,” I said. “We all do.”

She gave a small smile. “I just want to be strong enough to go. Sybil deserves it. She’s waited her whole life for this.”

“You’ll be there,” I promised. “Even if I have to carry you myself.”

Her hand brushed against mine. “You always keep your promises.”

I wanted to believe that was true. But lately, the weight of the ones I hadn’t yet kept was starting to crush me.

..................

Later that afternoon, after I made sure Wren was settled, Reed and I met in my office. Maps, files, and photos littered the table. Most were from the last six months, failed leads, names, addresses.

Reed was pacing, his usual easy smile replaced by a grim frown. “I hate this,” he muttered. “It’s like he’s mocking us. Every time we get close, he’s already gone.”

“He’s hiding for a reason,” I said, scanning the map. “He knows we want him. He's the last link we have to the black market and the fox tail trades he's been making."

Reed stopped pacing. “You think he's still dealing?"

“I think he never stopped,” I replied. “He's a psychopath."

Reed leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “So what’s the plan now?”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed on the table. The name flashing across the screen made my chest tighten.

Alexander.

Reed gave me a look. “Not again!"

I picked up the call and pressed the phone to my ear. “Alexander.”

Her voice came through smooth and cold, like silk over steel. “Alpha Cassian. Do you have news for me?"

I met Reed’s eyes and gave a small nod before replying. “I might. One of my scouts found traces of Derek near the southern border. Cantana. It’s faint, but it’s something.”

Alexander hummed. “After six months, that’s the best you can do? Is this another dead end?"

My jaw tightened. “I said it’s something. I’ll send a team to confirm it in the morning.”

“You’d better,” she said, her tone turning sharp. “Because this is your last chance, Cassian. If Derek slips through your fingers again, the curse remains and I don't have to remind you time is going. From what I hear, Wren only has little time left."

“I’m aware,” I said coldly. “You don’t need to remind me what’s at stake.”

“Oh, but I do,” she countered. “You have a child on the way, do you not? A precious heir. It would be a shame if the curse chose to collect early.”

“That's enough,” I snapped, my voice low. “We made an agreement, remember?"

“I did,” she said calmly. “And I’ll honor it, when Derek is delivered to me. Not a moment before.”

The call ended with a click.

I set the phone down slowly, my pulse still pounding.