Chapter 180
Blake
"Blood magic." Dmitri's voice held grim confirmation. "They used it to dilute and mask her scent. Makes it nearly impossible to track her. Prevents their own wolves from being marked by her scent, from forming any attachment that might complicate plans."
My gunpowder scent exploded through the room, so thick it made the air shimmer. Rage—pure, incandescent rage—burned through every vein. The need to hurt something, to destroy the people who'd done this, was so overwhelming I could barely see through the red haze descending over my vision.
"Blake." Asher's voice carried full Alpha authority, crashing over me like a tidal wave, forcing my wolf back even as it snarled and snapped. "Control yourself. We haven't found her yet, and if you lose it now, we might never get the chance."
Control. He wanted me to control myself when the woman I loved had been held prisoner in this sterile nightmare, had sat in this chair surrounded by Court's twisted symbolism, alone and afraid and probably convinced we weren't coming.
But he was right. Losing control wouldn't help Kara. So I forced myself to breathe, to push the rage down into a tight, burning ball where I could use it later, when we finally found the bastards responsible.
"Second floor," I said, words clipped and barely human. "Her scent is stronger upstairs."
This time, Asher didn't try to stop me as I headed for the stairs, though I felt both him and Cole close behind, ready to intervene if I lost control. The hallway stretched before us, but there was no question which room Kara had occupied. Her scent led me directly to a bedroom at the far end.
I was across the threshold before conscious thought caught up with instinct, my entire being focused on that bed with its white sheets, the simple furniture screaming "temporary," heavy curtains drawn tight. Here, Kara's scent was strongest—white musk and first snow wrapping around me like a physical embrace, so potent after days of barely sensing her that it brought tears to my eyes.
I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow, breathing her in with desperate, greedy gulps. She'd slept here. Her head had rested on this pillow, and for just a moment I could pretend she was still here, still close, still within reach.
"No other scents." Cole's voice was thick with emotion as he examined the sheets. "Just Kara's. No signs of..." He couldn't finish, but I knew what he meant.
No signs she'd been assaulted. It was small comfort, barely comfort at all, but I clung to it like a drowning man to driftwood.
"They kept her alone," I managed, though my throat felt like I'd swallowed broken glass. "At least she was alone."
But even as relief flickered, it was consumed by fresh fury. They'd kept her isolated in this sterile cage, separated from the bond that should have been her comfort. They'd made her face whatever horrors Court had planned in solitude.
Cole had curled up on the other side of the bed, arms wrapped around one of Kara's pillows, quiet sobs shaking his frame. "We were too late," he whispered. "We came for her, and we were too late."
"She was here," Asher said from the doorway, tone forcibly steady even as his scent betrayed turmoil beneath. "But she's not here now. They moved her. Question is where, and how recently."
Ethan appeared behind him, moving past us to the bathroom. "New toiletries," he called out. "High-end brands, barely used. She wasn't here long. Maybe a day or two at most."
"A day or two." Dmitri's voice carried the weight of someone who'd seen too much, lost too much. "Just long enough to keep her disoriented before moving her again. Classic Court methodology."
I wanted to scream. Wanted to tear this entire house down to its foundations, hunt down every single person who'd touched her and make them pay in blood for every second of fear she'd endured.
But Asher was already moving, Alpha instincts overriding personal anguish. "We need to keep searching," he said, though I could hear the effort it cost him. "There might be clues about where they took her."
"Brothers." Ethan's voice from the bathroom carried urgency. "You need to see this."
I forced myself to move, to leave the bed that still held traces of Kara's warmth. In the bathroom, Ethan had opened the medicine cabinet, revealing pharmaceutical supplies that seemed excessive for a temporary location.
"Prenatal vitamins," he said quietly, holding up an unopened bottle. "Anti-nausea medication. Folic acid supplements." His gaze met ours. "They were preparing for the possibility she might be pregnant."
The words hung in the air, and I felt the world tilt as their implication crashed through me. Pregnant. Kara might be pregnant with our child—or children, given we'd all claimed her in Maui.
If Kara was pregnant, if she was carrying our children, then Court's interest would be exponentially greater. She wouldn't just be the mate of three Alphas. She'd be carrying the next generation of Sterling wolves, children who would inherit not only our genetics but potentially her own mysterious heritage through Dmitri and Celeste.
"No." The denial came from Cole, who'd followed us, face pale as death. "No, she can't be pregnant. Not now, not when they have her, not when she's alone and scared and—"
He broke off, mint scent going sharp and brittle with panic. The image of Kara facing captivity while pregnant, while her body went through changes she'd barely understand, while she feared for not just her own life but for the life growing inside her—it was too much.
"We need to be certain." Asher's voice was steady, but I could feel the tremor through our bond. "Blake, the scent. You noticed something different. Can you identify what exactly changed?"
I forced myself to focus, to push past the emotional maelstrom. Moving back to the bedroom, I stood beside the bed and drew in a slow, careful breath, letting Kara's scent fill my lungs.
There. Beneath the white musk and first snow, beneath even the chemical taint of blood magic, there was something new. Something that hadn't been there before Maui, before we'd claimed her.
It was subtle, barely perceptible, but unmistakable once I knew to look for it—a second heartbeat, a new life, a presence that was both Kara and not-Kara.
"Oh God." The words came out broken as I sank to my knees beside the bed, hand pressed against the mattress as if I could somehow reach through it to touch her, to protect her and our child. " She's actually pregnant, not lie."