Darius nearly snapped at the man standing in front of him. He waved his hand dismissively, jaw tightening as he squeezed his eyes shut. The weight pressing against his temples had been building for the better part of an hour, and the man’s prattle about vineyard plots and summer tariffs was the final stone atop it.
"Enough," Darius muttered, then more firmly, "I said enough."
The steward paled and bowed hastily. "Yes, Alpha Darius."
He left without argument, leaving Darius alone in the antechamber. The silence did little to ease the strain. He paced once, twice. The council chamber had long since emptied, and the night stretched late. It had not occurred to him at first, she had simply stepped out. But now...
Now it had been far too long, too long for his heart to remain at ease. Where had Serena gone?
He exhaled slowly through his nose, irritation giving way to unease. She had not said a word before slipping out to gods know wherever. Was it from Livia and her words? Or was it the could be from the council? Had he done enough to shield her from it all? ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel⸺fire.net
Darius swept from the chamber with long, urgent strides.
He began with the upper corridors, checking the halls she had walked before, the solar where she sometimes took tea. He found nothing. Her scent still lingered, roses with a wilder note beneath, like rain on stone but it was old, dulled by time.
He frowned and turned sharply down another passage, heading toward the library. The guards stationed along the gallery looked up in surprise, but none dared stop him. His steps echoed through the narrow stone hallway, past tapestries and arched windows casting moonlight upon the floor.
She was not in the library nor the chapel. Not even at the old observatory where she had once asked to stop at to look at the antics.
Panic began to take root in his chest, it annoyed his soul. Where could she have gone? Was it the council? Was it him?
He turned and descended the grand staircase, taking them two at a time. His boots rang sharply against the stone. The servants along the lower halls shrank back at the look on his face.
"Have you seen Lady Serena?" he demanded of the first.
The woman stammered, "N-not since supper, Alpha."
"Find Emmett. And Julian," Darius snapped. "Tell them to report to me at once."
The servant fled without question.
He moved again, this time heading toward the private gardens. The air there was cooler, the scent of moss and ash clinging to the hedgerows. He paused at the stone benches, eyes scanning the twisted shadows cast by moonlight, but nothing stirred.
The fountain dripped slowly in the center. It was empty.
He growled under his breath and turned back toward the inner courtyard, heart hammering faster now. He searched the council chamber again, the war room, even the servant passages, ignoring the startled glances of those he passed.
Her scent still lingered, taunting, ever-present, but never fresh.
Had she left? Had she truly left, without a word, without a note, without facing him?
His chest ached at the thought. Gods, had she believed those words Livia spat? Had she thought he believed them too? That he had only brought her here to toy with her pride?
He’d tried. He’d given her space, but brought her close when she seemed willing. He hadn’t rushed the bond, hadn’t spoken of it when she stiffened. He thought...
He stopped near the training hall doors and pressed both hands to the wooden frame, breathing hard. He let his forehead rest there, eyes closed. The memory of her face as she left flickered again in his mind, too composed as thought she was wearing a mask.
The same mask he’d worn, once, when he thought no one would ever understand what lay beneath.
He stood there for a long moment, the stillness wrapping around him like a shroud.
Then the hurried clatter of boots against stone broke the silence.
He turned swiftly to see a young steward approaching, panting, face flushed.
"She’s returned! She appeared at the stables, just now!"
Darius didn’t wait. He shoved off from the wall and bolted through the corridor, cape billowing behind him. He reached the castle doors in a storm of motion, nearly knocking aside a pair of startled guards as he pushed on.
The courtyard was bathed in the rays of the morning sun, the horses were being pulled out of the various pen to be exercised. Then he saw her.
Serena stood beside a dappled mare, her travel cloak draped over her shoulders, loose strands of dark hair curling down her cheeks. Dust smudged the hem of her gown. Her eyes met his.
She looked tired, withdrawn, but unharmed.
His heart thundered against his ribs, his feet nearly carrying him across the courtyard. He wanted, desperately to gather her in his arms, to crush her against him and feel her warmth and be certain she was real.
But too many eyes watched. Stablehands lingered, guards nearby.
So instead, he stopped just short and inclined his head in greeting, voice low but warm. "My lady."
Serena’s lips parted slightly in surprise, and then she gave him a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"I needed air," she said softly. "I thought the temple might be quieter."
"The Moonseeker’s?" he asked.
Darius exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. "Next time, tell me."
"I know," she murmured. "I didn’t plan to be gone so long."
"I searched the whole castle," he said, a touch too hoarse.
She blinked, her expression faltering. "You did?"
"Yes." His hand hovered at her elbow for a moment, not quite touching. "I thought-"
She stepped a little closer, and though they still stood with inches between them, he could smell the ash of temple incense on her skin.
"I am sorry," she said, more sincerely this time.
He shook his head. "Come inside. You must be cold."
And though he did not take her hand, his steps matched hers as they walked side by side beneath the wake up calls of the birds.