Chapter 162
Blake
The Frozen North's back exit groaned shut behind me, sealing Dmitri and his decades of guilt inside that rotting casino. My boots crunched through ankle-deep snow as I strode toward the waiting vehicles—three black SUVs idling in formation, exhaust plumes ghosting up into the pre-dawn darkness. Twenty warriors stood at attention, breath misting in the minus-twenty air, eyes tracking my approach.
Devon stepped forward first, his athletic frame tense beneath tactical gear. The baseball team captain had evolved into something harder since I'd pulled him into this hunt. "Blake. What did the old man say?"
I stopped before them, letting my gaze sweep across faces I'd known since childhood. Marcus Jr., whose father had served mine. Lyra, whose nose could track a scent through a blizzard. Tyler Kane, the human detective. All of them waiting, all of them ready to bleed for Kara because she was mine—ours—and that made her pack.
"Listen up." My voice cut through the wind, carrying Alpha authority that made spines straighten. "We have five target locations. Kara's life—and possibly the lives of our future children—depend on what we do in the next few hours."
The mention of children sent a ripple through the group. Good. Let them understand the stakes.
I pulled out my phone, displaying the map Dmitri had marked. "First team—Devon, you're taking four warriors to the abandoned warehouse north of Fairbanks." I met his eyes. "You're the warrior I trust most. If there's even a trace of Kara's scent there, contact me immediately. Understood?"
"Understood." Sharp and certain.
"Second team—Marcus Jr., you lead four to the remote hunting cabin. Signal's shit out there, so you report position every fifteen minutes. Miss one check-in and I'm sending backup."
"Yes, Alpha." His hand moved to the satellite phone at his belt.
"Third team—Lyra." The female warrior stepped forward, pale eyes gleaming. "You take five to the Anchorage docks cold storage facility. The cold will mask scents, but if Kara's there, your nose will find her."
Her slight smile was predatory. "I'll find her."
"Fourth team is the priority target." I felt Asher's presence in my mind, already en route from Midnight Estate. "Asher's leading six warriors to the pharmaceutical plant in Evergreen Heights—the most suspicious location. He'll arrive in two hours."
"And the fifth?" Tyler Kane's human practicality cut through. "The Seattle border motel?"
"You're taking three warriors there. Tyler, you understand human bureaucracy. If there are registration records, I need them extracted. Legally or otherwise."
He gave a grim nod. "I'll handle it."
I moved to the SUVs' open cargo doors, revealing the equipment. "Every team gets: thermal imaging, satellite phones—encrypted and signal-shielded—silver powder grenades for blood magic countermeasures, laurel oil for scent masking, and these." I held up one of Dmitri's modified suppression collars. "For subduing hostile wolves without killing them. We need intel, not corpses."
Devon frowned. "Blake, you're not going to the plant yourself?"
The question hung in the frozen air. Through the mental link, I felt Asher's approval and Cole's understanding.
"I have something more important to do." My gunpowder scent intensified. "I'm going to Midnight Estate to dig out every secret our parents have been hiding. If they know anything more about Boss or the Eclipse Court—anything that could lead us to Kara faster—that's more valuable than me storming a building that might be empty."
Silence. Then Devon's slow nod. "Understood, Alpha."
The other warriors exchanged glances—shock, then acceptance. They were seeing what Kara had made me become: not the impulsive boy who'd let rage guide his fists, but a leader who could calculate the optimal path to his mate's rescue.
"Move out." I stepped back as teams dispersed. "Remember—Kara is pregnant and wearing a suppression collar. She can't shift, can't defend herself fully. Whoever finds her treats her like spun glass. And whoever's holding her—" My voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "—you bring them to me alive. I want to hear them scream."
Engines roared. Headlights sliced through darkness as five teams scattered into the Alaskan night. I stood at the casino's entrance, watching taillights disappear, my gunpowder scent spreading like a promise of violence.
Through the mental link, Asher's voice was ice-cold precision: "Good call. Get what we need from them."
Cole's softer concern followed: "Be careful with Mother. She's... fragile right now."
"I don't give a fuck about fragile," I sent back, turning toward my vehicle. "She helped hide Kara's grandfather for ten years. If she knows where Konstantin's other safe houses are and didn't tell us, I'll make her regret it."
I slid behind the wheel of my black GMC Yukon. Dmitri emerged from the casino's shadows, moving with the careful precision of age and old injuries. I'd made him a promise—after we found Kara, he'd get his chance to explain everything to his granddaughter. But first, he was coming with me to confront the woman who'd stolen ten years of that relationship.
He climbed into the passenger seat without a word, hands already drumming that nervous rhythm on his knees. His scent—aged wolf, vodka, and crushing guilt—filled the cabin as I pulled onto the empty highway.
The drive to Midnight Estate would take ninety minutes at legal speeds. I planned to make it in forty-five.
---
Cole
The blizzard intensified as Blake's SUV disappeared toward Fairbanks. I stood at Midnight Estate's main study window, watching snow accumulate against the glass, my mint and ozone scent unconsciously trying to cool the anxiety burning through my chest.
Forty-three hours. That's how long Kara had been gone. Forty-three hours of searching, of dead ends, of feeling the mate bond stretch thinner and thinner. The suppression collar blocked most of our connection, but occasionally I caught fragments—cold, fear, determination. She was alive. She was fighting.
But for how much longer?
"Cole." Asher's voice pulled me from the window. He stood by the massive oak desk, hands braced on its surface, staring down at maps and files like he could force them to reveal answers through sheer will. His black ebony and tobacco scent had gone sharp with stress.
Everything was wrong without Kara.
"Blake says thirty minutes until he arrives," Asher continued. "With Dmitri Morozov."
"Silver Fang himself." I moved to the desk. "The man Mother spent ten years keeping away from Kara. This should be... enlightening."
Asher's jaw tightened. "It's going to be a bloodbath."
"Metaphorical or literal?"
"Depends on what they tell us." His eyes flashed with something feral. "If they knew where Konstantin's other safe houses were and didn't share that information, if they had any intel that could have prevented Kara's kidnapping—"
He didn't finish. Didn't need to. Through the mental link, I felt Blake's matching rage building as he drove through the storm, and my own wolf stirred with the urge to tear into someone, anyone, who might be responsible for our mate's suffering.
"Should we wake them now?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
"No." Asher straightened. "Let them sleep a little longer. It might be the last peaceful rest they get for a while."
I understood what he wasn't saying: once Dmitri Morozov walked through our doors and confronted Luna Victoria Sterling with a decade of stolen moments and returned gifts, our family would fracture in ways that might never heal.
The study's fireplace crackled. Asher looked older than twenty, I realized. We all did now. Kara's kidnapping had burned away whatever remained of our youth.
"Blake's right to bring Dmitri here," Asher said quietly. "If anyone knows the full scope of Eclipse Court's operations, it's him. And if Mother and Father have been sitting on information while Kara suffers—"
"I'm here." Blake's voice cut through the mental link. "Pulling up to the main gate now."