It certainly wasn’t.
Every second wasted was another second Reiyana slipped further out of reach.
And then, a couple of days later, theyfoundsomething.
A bounty—a single slip of parchment, nailed inside a gambling house where men placed bets on the misfortunes of others. The description was brief but unmistakable.
An unclaimed Omega of noble blood. Golden hair. Blue eyes. Fair skin. Possibly washed ashore between the kingdom of Lioria and Bashkor.
A reward of one hundred thousand solaris.
The moment Kaelen’s eyes landed on it, he realized they weren’t the first to see it.
At least a dozen men lingered nearby, some openly reading the notice, others hunched over tables, discussing routes and possibilities in low, urgent tones. A burly mercenary with a scarred jaw traced his finger along a map spread across the table, murmuring about possiblevillages she could’ve passed through. Another, younger and leaner, flipped a dagger between his fingers, his gaze speculative.
They were already planning. Already moving.
Alarik had yanked the parchment down before Kaelen could tear it from the wall himself.
Now, as they stood in the heart of the market, Alarik turned the crumpled bounty over in his hands. “Thisisher.”
Kaelen scanned the bustling crowd, restless energy coiling in his chest. “Who put this up? If her family had, it would’ve been a royal decree. If it was Castiel, why wouldn’t he be with her?”
Alarik’s gaze was unreadable. “Either way, someone wants her found, and they’re willing to pay an enormous sum.”
Kaelen’s grip tightened. “Then we find her first.”
But even as he plotted their next move, his gaze flicked to his brother.
Before they left on their search, Alarik had been the one reminding him that Reiyana had made her choice. That she’d walked away.
Yet, earlier, he’d been the first to grab the bounty notice. The first to realize the implication.
Someone wanted her found. That meant she wasn’t safely hidden away with Castiel. That meant something had gone wrong.
That meant she might not have left by choice.
Kaelen let the realization settle. He could see it—the first crack in Alarik’s resolve.
If Reiya hadn’t left by choice, maybe she needed help after all.
Alarik murmured, “The bounty does tell us something we didn’t know before.”
He met his brother’s gaze. “If someone’s looking for her, it means she’s still out there—free.”
“And she’s not in Bashkor.”
The Great Salt Road stretched beyond the city, a timeworn ribbon carved along Issoirea’s eastern coast—leagues of dust and trade, stitched with outposts and villages worn thin by the passage of countless feet.
Kaelen hoped she hadn’t strayed inland. Beyond the coast lay the Veilstrom Crest—jagged peaks and treacherous passes, a place evenseasoned caravans avoided when they could. For an unclaimed Omega, it was worse than unforgiving. Bandits and raiders prowled the mountain roads, always eager for vulnerable prey. Alone, without protection, she’d be easy to take, easy to keep.
And no one would find her once the mountains swallowed her whole.
He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening. “Then we start along the road. Town by town, outpost by outpost—until we find her.”
Alarik arched a brow. “That’s a lot of ground to cover.”
Kaelen smirked. “What, suddenly worried about a little distance?”
