CHAPTER 5: THE WOMAN WHO DISAPPEARED

Vespera's POV The first rule of escaping an Alpha's estate was never to use the exit he expected, and the second was to give him something more interesting to worry about. Unfortunately, Damon Blackthorne had an irritating habit of turning everything into a personal investigation, and I suspected my escape had earned me a place at the top of his list. I crouched behind abandoned timber in the maintenance shed, listening to guards searching nearby. "Check the eastern buildings. The Alpha wants every structure searched." the guard yelled. Wonderful. Damon had locked down his estate while I hid less than two hundred metres from the guest accommodation, wondering whether stealing his car would have been worth the consequences. Probably. I adjusted my equipment bag and checked the stolen envelope inside my jacket. Leaving the black metal disc on my pillow had been a calculated risk, designed to distract Damon while I reached the northern perimeter. I hadn't expected him to take the bait so quickly. The messages were meant to unsettle him, particularly the reference to his father. I didn't know why someone was connecting our families, but the Grey Division never shared information without a reason. If they wanted Damon investigating Seraphine Vale, they had a purpose. Whether they wanted to help or destroy me remained unclear, and neither option appealed. Once the guards' voices faded, I slipped from the shed and headed towards the northern perimeter, where I'd hidden my motorcycle before entering the estate. If I reached the service road before sunrise, I could disappear again. I'd survived seven years by knowing when to leave, but apparently, the universe had other plans. A security light swept across my path. I ducked behind a stone wall, waited for the beam to move, then crossed towards the trees. The reinforced fence was almost within reach when my phone vibrated. An unknown number. YOU FOUND YOUR FATHER'S NAME. NOW FIND OUT WHY HE DIED. Another message followed. THE ENVELOPE ISN'T WHAT YOU THINK IT IS. My fingers tightened around the phone. I pulled the envelope from my jacket and examined its sealed edges. It looked exactly as it had in Damon's office, black paper, silver wax, and a small impression pressed into the seal. I'd been paid to retrieve the envelope unopened, and clients paid well for discretion. I rarely asked questions that could compromise a job, but after finding my father's name in Damon's report and surviving an attack intended to recover me, that rule no longer seemed sensible. I slid my knife beneath the wax and broke the seal. Inside were three documents, a photograph, and a thin silver key. The first document listed names, dates, and locations. Several belonged to missing shifters from Damon's report, while others had supposedly died in accidents. At the bottom, someone had written: TRANSFER AUTHORISED BY THE SHIFTER COUNCIL. My stomach tightened. The second document detailed payments routed through shell companies to private security contractors and research facilities. One company repeatedly appeared beside the Grey Division's insignia. Then I unfolded the third document. My father's name stared back at me. THERON VALE: SUBJECT REFUSED COOPERATION. Beneath it, a handwritten note read: Eliminate before testimony. Daughter must be recovered alive. The forest seemed to tilt around me. My father hadn't simply been murdered for his territory. He'd discovered something dangerous enough to get him killed, and someone had ordered his daughter recovered alive seven years later. I read the sentence again, forcing myself to absorb every word. Daughter must be recovered alive. They knew I'd survived, and perhaps they'd known all along. A branch snapped behind me and I shoved the documents into my bag and spun around with my knife raised. Damon stood several metres away, his black shirt open at the throat and his expression dark. "Do you ever get tired of sneaking around my property?" He asked. "Do you ever get tired of appearing where you're not wanted?" I asked. "Not particularly." He said. "Then we share a character defect." I said. "You left a message on your pillow." He said as Hhis gaze flicked to my knife. "I thought you'd appreciate the interior decorating." I said. "I've had more pleasant surprises." He said. "You're welcome." I said. He stepped closer, and I shifted my weight back. He noticed but stopped advancing. "Someone used my credentials to compromise my security system. Armed hunters attacked my estate, and now you're sneaking towards the northern perimeter with a stolen envelope." He saaid. "When you put it like that, I almost sound interesting." I said. "Vespera. What did you find?" He asked as his voice had lost its humour. "Nothing that concerns you." I said. "Your father's death concerns me when someone connects it to mine." He said. "Ask whoever left the message." I said. "I'm asking you." He said. "And I'm declining." I said. His jaw tightened as we stood in silence, the rustling leaves above us barely audible over the distant voices of guards searching the grounds. "You received another message." Damon said as his expression sharpened. I considered lying, but his gaze had already settled on my phone. "You're remarkably observant for someone who can't keep track of his keys." I said. "Show me." He said. "Ask nicely." I said. "Please show me the message, Vespera." He said. I blinked, almost smiling at the effort it clearly cost him, before handing over my phone. He read the messages, then glanced at the envelope protruding from my bag. "You opened it." He said. "Gold star for observation." I said. "Do you understand what you've involved yourself in?" He asked. "I was involved when your hunters tried dragging me out of your office." I said. "They weren't mine." He said. "Tell that to the guards who were shot protecting your estate." I said. His expression hardened, but he didn't argue. He returned my phone and glanced towards the fence. "You're not leaving." He said. "Watch me." I said. "Someone could be waiting beyond that perimeter." He said. "You don't know that." I said. "I know the organisation hunting you has access to my security system, my credentials, and sealed information about your family. Leaving alone would make their job easier." He said. "And staying means trusting an Alpha whose security has more holes than a fishing net." I said. "Then help me fix it." He said. His words stopped me, and judging by his expression, he was equally annoyed he'd suggested it. "You want my help?" I asked. "I want answers. You have information I don't, and I have resources you don't. We can keep arguing or find out who's trying to kill us." He said. "You're assuming we're on the same side." I said. "I'm assuming you don't want to die." He said. "That's optimistic." I said. "I've noticed." He said as his mouth twitched. For a moment, the tension between us eased, until his gaze dropped to my wrist. My sleeve had slipped, exposing the faint silver mark circling my skin. My blood went cold. I'd hidden it for seven years. "What is that?" Damon asked. "Nothing." I said as I pulled my sleeve down. "That isn't nothing." He said. "You're getting very good at disagreeing with me." I said. He reached towards my wrist but stopped when I stepped back. His expression tightened as he fought an instinct I didn't understand. "Who put that mark on you?" He asked. The mark had been burned into my skin the night my father died. For years, I'd suspected it was a tracker or a brand designed to ensure I could never escape the people hunting me. I'd never told anyone about it, not even the man who'd helped me flee. Before I could answer, a howl echoed through the forest, followed by gunfire. Damon turned towards the northern perimeter as his phone rang. "Callum." Damon said. "Alpha, we've got an intruder at the northern fence. He's injured, but insists on speaking to you." Callum said. "Who is he?" Damon asked and a pause followed. "Gideon Rusk." Callum said. The name hit harder than the gunfire. Gideon had been my father's enforcer, the man who accused him of treason before Ashbourne fell. He'd vanished the night my father died, leaving me to wonder for seven years whether he'd helped murder him. Damon watched my face. "You know him." Damon said. I couldn't make myself answer. The phone crackled again and Callum's voice returned, quieter this time. "There's something else. He says he knows where Seraphine Vale is." Callum said. Every thought in my head stopped. My mother had been missing for seven years. And now the man who might have betrayed my father was standing at Damon's northern fence, asking to be let inside. Damon held my gaze as the call ended. For the first time since I'd met him, neither of us had a clever remark ready. "We're going to find out what he knows." He said as I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag. "No. We're going to find out why he waited seven years to tell me." I replied, my voice barely recognisable even to me. Because if Gideon Rusk knew where my mother was, he had known something else, too. He knew I was alive. And if the Grey Division had been searching for me all these years, I was no longer certain my father had been the only one they wanted silenced.