Chapter 172
Cole
"Dmitri," Asher said, turning to the older wolf. "You mentioned Connor and Celeste used to frequent certain places. Neutral zones where information changed hands."
I watched Dmitri's eyes sharpen with understanding, watched him straighten with purpose. "There's a place," he said. "Northern Fang—a half-underground restaurant on the edge of Fairbanks. It's where wolves and... other elements... conduct business. Neutral territory, protected by old accords. Connor and Celeste went there often in their final months, trying to find a way out of their debts."
"Then that's where we start," Asher decided, and I heard the Alpha authority ring through his voice. "We go to Northern Fang, we ask questions, and we don't leave until we have answers."
Blake's grin was feral. "Now you're talking."
"But we do this smart," Asher continued, and I felt gratitude wash through our bond. He was keeping us focused, keeping us from spiraling into revenge fantasies when we needed to be strategic. "We gather intelligence first. We understand what we're up against. Then we act."
I nodded, my analytical mind already working through the logistics. We'd need to be careful at Northern Fang—neutral territory meant there would be rules, protocols. We couldn't just storm in with Alpha authority blazing.
But we could ask questions. We could gather information. We could find the trail that would lead us to Kara.
"I'm coming with you," Dmitri said, stepping forward.
I studied him—this stranger who was also Kara's grandfather, who'd loved her from a distance for ten years, who'd been blocked from her life by our parents' cruelty and control.
Another person who could have given Kara the family she deserved, if only we'd let him.
"You're Court's enemy," Asher pointed out. "They'll kill you on sight."
"Then I'll die protecting my granddaughter," Dmitri said simply, and I heard the absolute certainty in his voice. "I've hidden long enough. It's time I fought for my family."
Family. The word hit me like a punch to the gut. Kara had been denied family her entire life—by her parents who abandoned her, by our parents who treated her like a servant, by us who made her life hell.
No more.
"You ride with us," Asher decided. "But you follow our lead. Understood?"
"Understood, Alpha," Dmitri said, and I felt the weight of that title settle over Asher's shoulders.
We were Alphas now. Leaders. And Kara's life depended on us making the right calls, staying focused, not letting rage or guilt cloud our judgment.
I thought of her terrified in that bathroom, cornered by women who'd weaponized our cruel words. Thought of her on that tower in the freezing wind, so desperate for freedom she'd risk death. Thought of her unconscious in enemy hands, believing herself abandoned.
We're coming, I sent through the bond, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. Hold on, Kara. Please hold on. We're coming for you.
No answer came back. The bond remained frustratingly silent.
But she was alive. I could feel that much—a distant flutter of will, of stubborn survival that was pure Kara.
My mate was a fighter. She'd survived eighteen years of our cruelty.
She would survive this.
And when we found her—when, not if—I would spend the rest of my life being the protector I should have been from the beginning.
"Let's move," Asher said, heading for the door.
I fell into step behind him, Blake at my side, Dmitri following. Our combined scents mixed into something deadly and determined—gunpowder and ebony and mint, unified by purpose.
---
The SUV's interior was thick with tension as we drove toward Fairbanks. I sat in the back with Dmitri, watching Blake's knuckles go white on the steering wheel. Through our bond, I could feel him fighting for control—every instinct screaming at him to drive faster, to abandon caution, to tear apart anyone who might have information about Kara.
Easy, I sent through our link. We need you sharp, not scattered.
Blake's jaw clenched, but the SUV's speed didn't increase. Small victories.
Asher sat in the passenger seat, his tablet glowing in the darkness as he coordinated with Devon and the search teams. His ebony scent was carefully controlled, but I could feel the cracks in his composure through our bond—the fear he refused to voice, the guilt that ate at him like acid.
She's alive, I sent to both of them. We can feel her. That has to be enough for now.
It's not enough, Blake shot back, his mental voice raw. Nothing's enough until she's back in our arms.
I couldn't argue with that. The mate bond pulsed weakly in my chest, that distant flutter of life that was all we had left of Kara. It wasn't enough. Would never be enough.
But it had to sustain us until we found her.
"Tell me about Northern Fang," Asher said to Dmitri, his voice carefully neutral. "What should we expect?"
Dmitri shifted in his seat, his silver scent carrying notes of old memories and older pain. "It's been ten years since I was last there, but some things don't change. The owner is a wolf named Ivan Volkov—old-school, neutral to a fault. He doesn't allow violence on his premises, doesn't take sides in pack politics. His restaurant is sacred ground."
"And if we break his rules?" Blake asked, his voice edged with challenge.
"Then we'll have every wolf in Fairbanks hunting us," Dmitri said flatly. "Ivan's neutrality is what makes Northern Fang valuable. If we violate it, we lose access to the entire information network."
Through our bond, I felt Blake's frustration spike, but Asher's calm overlay it. "We'll play by the rules," our eldest brother said. "For now."
The edge on those last two words made it clear—rules were temporary. If they stood between us and Kara, they'd be broken.
The outskirts of Fairbanks gave way to industrial wasteland, then to something grimmer—abandoned lots, boarded-up buildings, the kind of neighborhood where questions weren't asked and answers weren't volunteered. Blake navigated the SUV through increasingly narrow streets until Dmitri pointed to a building that looked like it should have been condemned decades ago.
"There," he said. "The entrance is around back."