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Chapter 47
- DEREK
Brock didn’t say a word when he walked into my office. He didn’t have to. The envelope in his hand was enough.
“Is that it?” I asked.
He nodded and laid it gently on the desk between us. A plain white envelope. No return address. No markings. Just my name scrawled across the front in blocky, deliberate handwriting.
I’d already read the contents twice, but I opened it again anyway, as if the third time might offer something new.
If you want to know what happened to Elena, perhaps you should look at your own pack.
That was all it said.
But the weight of it–of the possibility behind it–pressed down like a boulder on my chest.
“Do you think it’s true?” Brock asked, his voice low. “You think what happened to Mia- Elena–had something to do with Silverclaw?”
I stared at the note, the sharp edges of the paper biting into my fingertips. “I don’t know. But I’m damn sure going to find out.”
Brock nodded. “I’ve already checked with the front gate. No one saw who dropped it off.”
“Then we start inside,” I said. “Paper stock. Ink. Pen stroke pattern. Get a handwriting analyst. Run the fibers through our forensics team. Trace everything. Every damn detail.”
“Copy that.”
“Spare no expense,” I added, turning to face him fully. “I want answers.”
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Brock didn’t flinch. “You’ll have them.”
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He left without another word. That’s what I liked about Brock–he didn’t ask unnecessary
questions.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the note. I turned it over again and again, like it might open itself up if I just looked hard enough.
A threat? A warning? Or a clue?
The silence of the office closed in around me. I should’ve been running numbers, looking over strategy for the Alliance Summit. There were deadlines, updates, political tightropes to walk. But my thoughts kept drifting–dragging me backwards.
To her.
To Mia.
Only she wasn’t Mia. Not really. And maybe that was the problem.
a
Elena. Her real name. Her real self. And she wasn’t the same woman whose empty casket I’d buried all those years ago.
Mia had been soft–spoken. She never challenged me in front of others. She let me make the
decisions, and if she disagreed, she never said so. She was careful, controlled. She moved
like a shadow through my world–never drawing too much attention, never giving too much away. Except when we were alone.
When we were alone… she was different. Laughing and impulsive, always teasing. She’d
been warm, affectionate in private, and there were moments–brief ones–when I’d glimpsed the fire beneath her skin. Moments when she stopped being Mia and started being something more.
And now I knew why.
She wasn’t born to be silent. She wasn’t a shadow.
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She was an Alpha’s daughter. Moonstone royalty. Elena wasn’t just stronger than Mia had ever been–she was sharper, more confident. She didn’t look to me for permission. She didn’t ask for my protection.
She didn’t need it.
Had she ever needed it? Had I smothered her? Tried to turn her into something smaller,
something easier to control?
I ran a hand through my hair and cursed under my breath.
It didn’t matter. Not right now. Because someone–someone from Silverclaw–might have
tried to kill her. Not just hurt her. Not just scare her.
Kill her.
And if that was true, then the rot wasn’t on the outside.
a
It was here. At home. In the walls I trusted. In the warriors I trained. In the people who
swore loyalty to my name, to my bloodline.
I couldn’t sit around waiting for answers. I needed to do something.
Which was why I found myself in the back seat of an unmarked SUV, riding shotgun through a stretch of dense forest just outside our borders. The road to Moonstone wasn’t long, but it was winding–cut through steep hills, wide pine groves, and the occasional
abandoned watchtower left over from the last border war.
My jaw clenched every time we passed one. Some of them still bore Silverclaw’s crest, long
since weathered by time and moss.
The air outside the SUV was thick with the scent of summer rain, the kind that hadn’t
broken yet. The kind that hung in the air like tension before a fight. It matched my mood.
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