Chapter 67: The Stolen King

~~SERAPHINE~~

Kylie appeared in the ruined doorway, flanked by two Northern scouts whose faces were grim. Her eyes took in the scene in one sweeping, assessing glance. Relief flickered when she saw me upright, then quickly gave way to steel.

"Report," she said crisply.

"Seraphine is alive. The heir is unharmed," Natasha said, standing. "The cellar is compromised beyond recognition. We found no bodies nor scent."

Kylie's jaw constricted. "How about the southern perimeter?"

"Locked down tight," one of the scouts answered. "No vehicles passed the outer checkpoints in the last two hours. If they left, they did it through another path we have not found yet."

Kylie turned to me, her expression softening slightly. "Can you walk on your own?"

"Yes," I said, though my legs protested the idea.

"We are leaving this place," she said firmly. "This entire estate is contaminated by more than just explosives. I can feel it in the air, something wrong and twisted. We regroup at the safehouse near the ridge and plan our next move from there."

I hesitated, looking back at the hollow one last time. The violet light from the other place was gone, but I could still sense a faint humming, like a distant, angry beehive waiting to swarm.

"We cannot just leave him out there," I uttered.

"We are not abandoning Andrew," Kylie replied, her voice softening for the first time since she arrived. "We are stepping back so that when we move next, we do not walk blindly into Christina's chosen battlefield again. She wants us desperate and reckless. We will not give her that satisfaction."

She offered her hand. I took it, letting her lead me up the cracked stairs and into the cold night air that bit at my exposed skin.

The Ashford estate looked like the skeleton of a beast that had swallowed something too large and burst from the inside. Walls sagged at dangerous angles, windows shattered into glittering teeth, smoke drifting from open wounds in the structure. The moon hung low and pale, watching in silent disapproval.

We reached the outer property line and slipped through the breach in the security fence that Bella's contact had found earlier. A convoy of unmarked vehicles waited hidden in the trees, engines already running. Garek helped me into the back of one, his large hands surprisingly gentle.

As the engines rumbled to life and we began to move, I looked back one last time at the ruined house growing smaller in the distance.

"You hold him for now," I murmured, addressing the night itself. "But you do not know him like I do. He is not yours to keep, Christina."

The ride to the safehouse blurred together. Exhaustion tugged at my eyelids with insistent fingers, but every time I started to drift toward sleep, the memory of his blank stare snapped me awake. The bond between us felt frayed, like a rope dragged over sharp rocks until only threads remained, but it had not snapped completely. There was still a faint, stubborn pull in my chest that whispered He lives.

Hours later, I sat on a worn sofa in a small mountain cabin, wrapped in a heavy blanket that smelled of cedar and age. The safehouse was rustic, with old timber beams and a stone fireplace crackling with fresh logs. It should have felt comforting and safe. It did not.

Natasha had checked me again with her magic and forced a mug of chamomile tea into my hands. Kylie stood by the window, watching the tree line for any sign of pursuit or danger.

"You saw our ancestor?" she asked quietly, without turning from her vigil.

"She called herself the first Luna," I said, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. "She said the Umbral splits itself when threatened. That Andrew carries part of it now in his blood. That I have to choose where the next battle happens."

"And where do you choose?" Kylie asked, finally turning to look at me.

"Where he is," I answered without hesitation. "Always where he is."

A flicker of something like pride crossed her features. "Then we adapt our strategy. We will treat Andrew as both victim and potential weapon. We rescue him, but if Christina uses him against the pack, we must have contingencies in place."

Pain lanced through me at the thought of Andrew as a weapon pointed at his own people. "He is not her sword to wield."

"For now, he is her shield," Kylie said grimly. "That is dangerous enough. She will place him between herself and any threat, knowing we cannot strike without harming him."

Garek knocked once and stepped inside, a thin layer of frost clinging to his eyebrows and beard. "We have intercepted a communication from Ashford's private frequency," he said without preamble. "It pinged off a tower near the coast about twenty minutes ago. One of our human informants picked it up."

Kylie straightened immediately. "From Christina?"

Garek nodded. "Short transmission. Heavily encrypted. But we recognized a single name buried in the code."

My heart stuttered in my chest. "Whose?"

He looked directly at me. "Raymond Beckson."

The room seemed to tilt sideways. "Raymond is alive? I thought he died in the compound raid."

"Alive and mobile," Garek confirmed. "The signal originated from a private marina on the southern coast. A yacht registered to an Ashford shell company departed within minutes of the transmission. Current destination: international waters."

Cold dread slid into my stomach like ice water. "She is taking Andrew out of the country."

"She is placing him beyond the jurisdiction of the council," Kylie said, her voice tight with fury. "If she convinces the southern packs that the North has lost its king to incompetence, she can sail him back as a puppet ruler whenever she wishes. He becomes her legitimacy."

The baby kicked hard against my ribs, as if protesting the very idea. I pressed a hand to my side and made a decision that settled over me with absolute clarity.

"Then we go after them," I said firmly.

Kylie studied me with calculating eyes. "Chasing a yacht into open sea is not like tracking a car on land. We will need allies. We will need resources beyond what this pack alone can provide."

"We have them," I said, my mind already working through the possibilities. "Smithwood Industries has shipping lines. Andrew built them from nothing. He trusted those crews with his life and his business. Some of them will still be loyal to his name, even if he does not remember theirs."

Kylie's lips curved into a tight, fierce smile that promised violence. "Then we bring his empire into this war."

Garek nodded approvingly. "I will start compiling the list of captains who owe Andrew favors or their livelihoods."

"And I," Natasha added, already moving toward her medical kit, "will prepare something that might help anchor his mind when you finally reach him. It will not restore what Christina has stolen. But it may keep her from cutting him further away from himself."

I exhaled slowly, feeling some of the crushing weight on my chest loosen just a little. For the first time since waking in that burning cellar, I felt like we had a path forward instead of just grief and helplessness.

Then the door swung open again with sudden force.

Bella stumbled inside, her face completely ashen. She clutched a tablet in her shaking hands, the screen glowing with harsh blue light.

"Turn on the television," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Right now."