Malachi’s pov The sight of Lauretta’s feet on Lucian’s lap sent pinpricks of fire through me, my wolf snarled in my head,fury radiating off him in waves, Here she was, looking at him with that soft, almost delighted expression.
She had never looked at me like that.
Not once.
And here she was giving it freely to my bastard of a half-brother.
The doctor had informed me Lauretta was no longer in her ward thanks to the incompetence of the sleeping guards.
I had assembled the men immediately and ordered a search party, my chest clenching at the thought of the worst things that could have happened.
If she had been taken by bandits or a rival pack, they would injure her beyond comprehension.
They would use her, break her, leave her body somewhere cold and forgotten.
The idea should not have mattered,yet the thought of her hurt out there in the dark made something tight and ugly twist inside my chest.
I hated it.
I hated the way my wolf stirred restlessly at the news.
I needed to go outside to clear my head, distract myself in someway before this southern girl drove me crazy.
The road was empty and cold, the kind of night that made every sound sharper.
Then I saw the car, headlights still cutting through the darkness, back door hanging open.
And there she was.
Sitting in the back seat like she belonged there, one bloody foot resting on Lucian’s thigh while he dabbed iodine on her cuts as if he had every right to touch her.
Lucian.
The Queen Dowager’s spoiled son.
My half-brother.
The one who spent his life sailing off on endless, useless voyages, refusing to take any real responsibility in the pack.
The one who floated in and out whenever it suited him and left the rest of us to hold everything together while he played at freedom.
Rage flooded me so fast I could barely breathe.
“Lauretta.” My voice came out sharp, Lucian froze with the cotton still in his hand.
She turned to look at me, eyes wide, and for a second I saw something like guilt flash across her face.
It only made the fire within me burn hotter.
“I can explain, Malachi,” Lucian said quickly, already shifting into that calm, reasonable tone he used when he wanted to avoid consequences.
“I saw your wife badly injured.
She nearly ran into my car.
She was running.
I don’t know where she was running to.” I stared at her foot still resting on his leg.
The sight burned itself into my mind.
“You didn’t see it fit to send her back instead?” I said, “You’re curled up with her in your cozy car, treating her injury like you’re her husband.
What else did you two get up to?
Did you feel her up, Lucian?
Did you put your hands where they didn’t belong?” Lucian’s jaw tightened.
I stepped closer, every muscle in my body locked.
“Get down from the car.
Both of you.
You’re lucky I haven’t ripped your throat out yet.” Lauretta scrambled out first, bare feet hitting the cold asphalt.
Lucian followed.
The second his feet touched the ground I shifted,i couldn’t control my wolf, Bones cracked and reformed in a violent blur.
White fur striped with black exploded across my body as I launched forward, fangs bared, easily twice my human size.
The force of the change ripped a snarl from my throat.
I sank my teeth into his neck on impact.
Blood sprayed across the road in a hot arc.
Lucian shifted mid-air to meet me, snarling, and we crashed together in a tangle of claws and fur.
We rolled off the road and into the trees, slamming into each other again and again.
Every time I saw her foot on his lap in my mind the fury burned hotter.
I hated that it mattered.
I hated that the sight of another man touching her had driven me to this.
She was supposed to be nothing more than a means to an end.
A weapon I could use and discard.
And yet here I was, trying to tear my own brother apart because he had dared to put his hands on her.
Lucian fought back hard.
He always did.
We collided against a thick trunk, the impact rattling my bones.
I snapped at his shoulder.
He twisted and raked claws down my side.
Pain flared, sharp and clean, but it only fed the rage.
I drove him backward, teeth sinking deeper, the taste of his blood thick on my tongue.
Somewhere in the distance I could still hear Lauretta’s voice calling my name, but it was muffled, far away, unimportant compared to the need to punish the man who had touched what was mine.
We fought until both of us were bloodied and breathing hard, the forest floor torn up beneath us.
Eventually the violence drained enough for us to pull apart.
I shifted back first, chest heaving, blood dripping from a gash on my shoulder and another along my ribs.
Lucian followed, wiping blood from his mouth, his expression dark.
Neither of us spoke as we walked back toward the car.
The headlights were still on.
The back door still hung open.
The first-aid box sat abandoned on the seat, cotton and iodine scattered.
Lauretta was gone.
I stopped dead.
The tight feeling in my chest returned, sharper this time, colder.
I scanned the empty road, the tree line, the long stretch of darkness.
Nothing.
No scent strong enough to follow.
No sound of bare feet on asphalt.
Nothing.
“Where is she?” I demanded, the words coming out rough.
Lucian looked around, frowning, already searching the shadows.
“She was right here.
She was standing by the car when we—” My control snapped.
“You left her alone while we fought.
You distracted me with your worthless presence and now she’s gone.” Lucian’s eyes flashed.
“Me?
You’re the one who launched at my throat without listening.
If you hadn’t been so busy trying to kill your own brother, you might have noticed someone taking your wife.” “She is not your concern,” I snarled, stepping into his space.
“You float in and out of this territory whenever it suits you, playing at being free while the rest of us hold the pack together.
You refuse every responsibility.
You disappear for months on those useless voyages.
And the one time you decide to involve yourself, you made my wife get kidnapped.” Lucian stepped closer, blood still drying on his collarbone.
“I was helping her.
She was injured and running in the middle of the road like she wanted to die.
What would you have preferred I do?
Drive past her and leave her bleeding in the dark?” “I would have preferred you stayed on one of your voyages,” I shot back.
“You have no place in pack matters.
You never have.
You were never meant to be here.” We stood there in the cold, the silence between us heavy with years of old resentment.
My mind kept circling back to the empty car seat the idea of her out there in the dark, injured, possibly taken by someone who would not hesitate to break her, made something restless and furious claw at the inside of my ribs.
I hated this feeling .
“Fuck” I cursed loudly, this woman was nothing but trouble why couldn’t she have stayed in the ward.
“Search the area,” I ordered the soldiers who had finally caught up, my voice cutting through the night.
“Every tree.
Every ditch.
Every path.
Find her.
If she is hurt because of your incompetence I will hold every one of you responsible.” Lucian wiped more blood from his face.
“I’ll help.” “I don’t need your help.” “You’re getting it anyway.” We spread out.
I moved through the trees with lethal focus, senses stretched wide, every sound and scent sharpened by the wolf still pacing under my skin.
Every snapped branch made my head turn.
Every unfamiliar trace of human scent pulled me forward.
The longer we searched without result, the hotter my anger burned — at Lucian for existing, at the soldiers for being too slow, at Lauretta for running in the first place, at myself for caring enough to notice she was missing.
Hours passed.
The sky began to lighten at the edges, turning the trees into dark silhouettes.
No sign of her.
No trail strong enough to follow.
I stood in the middle of the road again, staring at the empty car as if it might somehow produce her if I glared hard enough.
A soldier approached, holding out a folded piece of paper.
His face was pale.
“This was left on the hood of the car, my king.
No one saw who placed it.
It wasn’t there when we first arrived.” I took it.
The paper was thick, the writing sharp and deliberate, the ink dark against the pale surface.
I unfolded it slowly.
Four words were written on it.
“She’s with me”.