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The search had again proven futile, not even producing a scrap of her dress or a trace of the car. It was another disappointing evening when I headed back toward Ironhelm Place.
All the local sheriffs and police precincts came up empty, and every sighting on social media proved to be a dead end, wasting more time and resources. This was proving to be a lost cause.
Morphing back into my fae form, I stopped at the gatehouse to find a pair of pants and a shirt. In bare feet, I padded back up the bridge, nodding at the stationed guards, who bowed fully.
“Alpha,” they greeted me.
I eyed them speculatively, waiting for them to add news, but the disappointment I should have expected twinged at me as they set their sights ahead again. Zephy had not returned.
Sighing, I re-entered the palace, and in the grand foyer, I immediately saw Aradia… and a snowy-haired male who made my heart freeze. He was nothing to look at from the side, old, wrinkled, fading in a poorly kept suit and shoddy footwear. But knowing who he was churned my stomach.
A warlock. In my house.
I wished she hadn’t brought him inside the palace. I would rather have arranged a meeting outside. But it was too late now. He was already in the doors.
“Alpha,” Aradia said formally, now that we were in the presence of outsiders, her manners recalled. “May I present Sandor of Lychem?”
I stared at him, nodding curtly. “Are you able to do a locator spell?” I asked without preamble.
Sandor smiled pleasantly, removing the tiny hat I hadn’t noticed until that moment from the crown of his head, placing it at his heart.
“Yes, Alpha. I’m certain I can locate your runaway bride for you.”
I cringed in annoyance, the label irking me. I glanced at Aradia, who cast me a warning look, and I choked back a biting response.
“What do you need from me?” I asked the warlock.
“Anything personal of the missing will suffice. A comb? An unwashed piece of clothing? A toothbrush? Something with her scent and feel.”
Again, I was overwrought with a sense of disgust, using this warlock for this feat, but without any other way to find my lost love, I didn’t know where else to turn. It only enhanced my sense of helplessness and upset.
It was an infuriating reality, having to deal with the warlocks, but a necessary evil, their ancestral knowledge of geology, herbs, and nature grounding them more to the realm than magic ever could.
Practicing warlocks could locate up to a thousand miles away and through a shroud of protection. But to deal with them meant a trade, regardless of who made the deal. Even as the king, I wasn’t exempt from whatever the price might be. It was an age-old rule as stupid as the blood oath that had gotten us here in the first place.
“I’ll see what I can find. Aradia, take Sandor to my study and see what else he needs. I’ll join you shortly when I’ve retrieved what I can of Zephyrine’s.”
“Yes, Alpha.” Aradia extended her hand toward Sandor, and the shuffling, emaciated warlock followed after her as I watched him go.
What will he demand of me for this?I wondered. I realized I didn’t care, as long as it got me Zephyrine back. I would have given him the entire palace if he demanded it at that moment.
I moved toward the intricate main stairwell, my bare feet pounding against the runner until I entered the suite of rooms Zephyrine and I had shared. Her clothes still hung neatly in the walk-in closet, blouses, dresses, pants, and even some athletic gear. Most of her toiletries were scattered and still tucked neatly in the crevices of the six-piece bathroom, her fancy soaps and conditioners lined along the jacuzzi tub. I couldn’t bring myself to put anything away, wanting to leave everything for her when she returned.
If she returned.
Not for the first time, I stared around the room, noting how she had not returned to the suite to pack anything of her own. The departure had not been pre-planned. She hadn’t schemed it all out to take off on the night of the rehearsal dinner, weeks in advance. Someone had spoken to her that day, said something to her which made her flee the palace. But who or what was still as much a mystery as her whereabouts.
I picked up the pajamas she had worn on our very last evening together, her succulent aroma barely lingering on it anymore. She was fading from the palace. I was losing her in more ways than one.
Pivoting, I hurried out of the suite and back down the corridor, one hand clenched to Zephy’s pajamas, my other trailing over the banister as I headed back down the steps. The servants stepped aside, reading the determination on my face, and I burst into my office, thrusting the dress toward Sandor, who jumped at my sudden arrival.
He rose hastily, bowing humbly. “Alpha.”
“Never mind the formalities, warlock. Just enact the spell and find Miss Zephyrine,” I commanded. “Will this do?”
Aradia clucked reprovingly with her tongue, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t trying to make friends with the warlock. Sandor was there for one reason only, and then I hoped to never see him again once our accounts were settled.
Sandor reached out to take the silken ivory pajamas from my hand, inhaling with far too much pleasure for my liking, but I again stifled my anger, clenching my fists to the side.
