Chapter 97
ELENA
I stared at the vent.
The tiny square opening near the ceiling still hung slightly ajar, just like it had when Aiden disappeared inside. I hadn’t moved since.
Every muscle in my body ached from sitting so still, but I didn’t dare shift. If I moved, if I looked up too long, if I gave any sign that something was wrong, someone might come in.
And if they came in?
They’d see he was gone.
There’d be no hiding it. No stalling. No pretending he was asleep or hiding under the cot. They’d know.
And they’d sound the alarm.
And Aiden-
My throat clenched.
He had to be out by now. He had to be clear. I tried to tell myself he was already far away, crawling through ductwork like a shadow, slipping through cracks no adult could follow.
I told myself he’d get help. That someone would find him.
But he was six. And this place was a maze.
I tightened my fists in my lap, trying to keep my breathing slow. Quiet.
Come on, baby. Just a little more time. Go, go, go.
Then-
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Footsteps.
Not far. Close. Two sets.
I froze.
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The soft scrape of boots on tile echoed outside the door. Muffled voices. Then a pause.
Right in front of my door.
I couldn’t breathe.
If they opened it-
If they looked in—
J
They’d see the empty space beside me. The rumpled blanket. The dent in the cot where my
son had been.
The knob rattled faintly.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
One of the voices said something I couldn’t make out.
Then-
Footsteps again.
Fading.
They didn’t come in.
The door never opened.
My lungs finally moved. I pressed a trembling hand to my chest and stared at the door,
wide–eyed and shaking.
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I looked back at the vent.
Still open. Still quiet.
Please, I whispered in my mind. Keep going, baby. Go get help.
AIDEN
The desk leg dug into his ribs, but Aiden didn’t move.
He lay curled beneath it, arms wrapped tightly around his middle, breath held so long it made his head feel dizzy Two pairs of boots thudded into the office, loud and careless.
One walked with a heavy stomp. The other dragged slightly, like the man favored one leg.
“Boss said it was in here,” the limping one muttered. “Check the drawers.”
Aiden’s heart pounded so loud in his ears he was sure they’d hear it. He pressed himself flatter to the floor, barely daring to blink.
A drawer slid open directly above him with a sharp scrape of metal. The weight of one of the men shifting overhead made the desk creak.
“I gotta say,” the first man said, “I still don’t get it. You think the boss was serious? About ransoming the kid?”
“Why not?” the other replied. “Kid’s Moonstone blood. Alpha blood’s always good currency,”
Aiden’s stomach twisted. He fought the urge to gag. To pee his pants.
But he would be brave. He would be brave.
“Still think we should’ve just killed him,” the man added casually.
“Not yet. He’s leverage.”
Another drawer slammed shut.
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Aiden clenched his jaw. His whole body had gone tense–his shoulders, his back, his legs. If he moved even a little, if he made a sound…
“And I do kinda like the plan for the lady,” the limping man said with a grin in his voice.
“What, you mean killing her?”
Aiden’s blood ran cold.
“No,” the other laughed. “I mean when he forces her to change and sends her dad her wolf’s head.”
Laughter bounced off the walls.
Aiden closed his eyes.
He wanted to disappear.
He wanted to be anywhere else.
But he didn’t move.
Then–suddenly-“Wait. Here it is!”
One of the men yanked something from the bottom drawer. The boots turned. The voices faded.
The door shut behind them.
Aiden didn’t move.
He counted to ten.
Then twenty.
Only when the sound of footsteps faded completely did he finally crawl out from under the desk, limbs stiff and trembling. His knees ached from being pressed against the carpet. His whole body felt tight, like every muscle had forgotten how to relax.
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He sat down hard on the floor, leaning his back against the side of the desk.
His arms were shaking,
His chest rose and fell too fast.
His throat felt tight and dry, like someone had poured dust down it.
He stared at the phone, sitting on the desk above him, just out of reach. His fingers twitched toward it—but he didn’t move. Not yet.
His heart was still thudding in his ears.
I can’t do this.
a
The thought came in a rush, sharp and loud in his mind. He felt too small. Too young.
Like maybe this had been a mistake and he should’ve stayed hidden under the cot. Maybe Mom should’ve gone instead. Maybe someone bigger. Someone braver.
But he was the only one who would fit in the duct system. He was the only one who could
help right now.
His eyes burned.
A sound escaped his throat–too close to a sob–and he slapped a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut.
Don’t cry.
Big kids don’t cry.
He could do this. He could make a phone call. It was just a phone call.
But his mind felt scrambled. He tried to think. Who should I call?
The numbers–Mason’s, Grandpa’s, even Logan’s–were just empty holes in his memory. He couldn’t find them.
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And they weren’t at home. He remembered his mom telling him that you couldn’t call 911
in other countries. You had to know the right number.
He didn’t.
His chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths.
He thought of his grandpa, tall and calm, with those quiet, steel–blue eyes. He thought of
Mason, who never got scared, even when things got loud. He thought of Logan, who always had a plan.
Of Derek, who always showed up.
Aiden opened his eyes.
Then looked down at his hoodie.
It was the one he’d worn when Derek came to the Moonstone house. The one he’d insisted
on packing for the trip. The one Mom said needed to be washed, but he’d stuffed into his
suitcase anyway when she wasn’t looking.
He reached into the front pocket with shaking fingers, hoping–praying–there was still something there.
His hand closed around a sticky wrapper.
Then a little rubber dinosaur.
Then a crumpled napkin.
He almost gave up.
And then-
Cardstock.
He pulled it out slowly.
A little wrinkled. A little bent.
Chapter 97
But there.
Derek King – Alpha, Silverclaw Pack
Emergency Line: (555) 728-9972
Aiden stared at the numbers.
He could do this.
He had to do this.
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He wiped his palm on his jeans, stood on shaky legs, and picked up the receiver. He dialed the numbers one by one, mouthing them softly as he pressed each button.
He could hear movement outside the office again.
Voices. Footsteps.
His stomach gurgled. He was so scared.
The line clicked.
The phone began to ring in his ear.
Once.
Twice.
His hand clenched around the receiver.
Please, Derek, he thought. Please pick up.
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