AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Never a dull moment, Fadon kept saying to himself as he searched the streets, backtracking the path he’d already made an hour ago. Still no sign of Sierra. Not only was he lost in the literal sense, but also figuratively. One moment he was preparing to hear out Lucius Fucking Dega at the meeting spot, then was floored by discovering the asshole had stolen Sierra from him yet again, and now he was part of a search party looking for a very distraught Sierra, who had someone disappeared out of thin air.
There’d been no explanation, just Lucius and Ander urging everyone to go search for her. Over twenty Ongahri scrambled through the snowy streets of Ghypsom City, scaring every passerby and merchant they passed. It would have been comical had it not been for the pain Fadon felt at the stunning news that Sierra had been claimed by the worst person on Titus. Even right now, lost and frustrated, there was a surging jealousy that frightened him.
And a deep sense of hurt.
She hadn’t waited for him. He had been so confident that she would. And the way she’d looked at him in that room, surrounded by so many alphas, looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen… He knew in his gut that she still felt something for him. And if that were true, then Lucius was to blame, not her.
Once they found her, he’d be having words with the House Dega leader.
“Anything?” the man in question asked breathlessly as he and Ander met Fadon at a crosswalk. Some of the others were catching up with them, too.
“Nothing.” Fadon addressed his answer to Ander, not trusting himself to meet Lucius’ eyes lest he kill the fucker right here in the street.
Fadon put his hands on his waist, turning in a slow circle, willing a woman with white hair and bright turquoise eyes to appear. There was no sign. She’d be easy enough to spot because there were barely any people around, what with this blasted weather; that or the appearance of the Ongahri running through their streets was the cause of everyone hiding indoors.
“I’ll try the villa again,” Fadon heard Lucius say. The tone of his voice made Fadon reluctantly turn to him this time. The man looked pale, worry painting his forehead and eyes. Defeat and terror.
Was it possible the leader loved Sierra?
Fadon frowned, but then scoffed. Lucius didn’t know what love was. Love would have kept her safe. Love would have put her first. Love would have seen that she deserved so much more than being conquered by a bastard with an ax to grind, and Fadon had no doubt that the meeting had been all for the intent at thumbing his nose at House Trajan, whom for some reason Lucius had a hard-on for.
“I’ll go with you,” Ander piped up. “Maybe Willow has an idea of where she could be.”
Lucius nodded, raking his hand through his hair. “Fine. Let’s go.”
“Why did she run?” Fadon felt his temper rising. “What did you do?”
“That’s between me and her, Captain.” There was the old Lucius. The arrogant stance, the smirk, the conceit. “Nothing but a misunderstanding.” He walked away. “Let’s go, Ander.”
Ander stepped toward Fadon first, though. “His villa’s on Peacock Lane, right outside the Commons. Meet us there in half an hour?”
“All right.”
Fadon watched them leave, his fingers tapping out a rhythm against his hip. He didn’t buy the explanation of a “misunderstanding.” Sierra wasn’t one to run from anything, not to mention her face when she’d left, the devastation on it. Lucius was lying: there was a lot more to it than a lover’s quarrel.
Lovers. Fadon shook his head, his ire building again.
Not only did he need to find her, so she’d be out of possible harm’s way, but he needed to confront her about what in Ongar had changed since he’d left Ordelpho.
He glanced to the right, where the road joined the Commons, and to the left where the city’s stables were. He’d go there. Before he could take a step, however, a flash of white robes came into view. Servants, at least four. Fadon cursed. If those robed fuckers were involved in this…
After gaining on the Servants, only to have lost them, Fadon turned the corner and almost ran into Phobius and Demos.
“Nothing?” he asked the pair.
“No.”
He told them about seeing the Servants, and how he’d followed, then lost them. “Is there a shrine here in the city to explain why the Owl were here of all places?”
“There is. So it’s probably just happenstance, nothing to do with her,” Demos explained, rubbing the back of his neck. All of them were soaked from the light snow that continued to fall, though, thankfully, the temperature just wasn’t low enough for the snow to stick, melting within minutes when it landed.
“Why would she run?” Fadon asked. It was mostly rhetorical because he knew they had no idea. But when he looked at Phobius, the dark-haired man was too straight-faced for Fadon’s liking, and alarm bells rang in his gut. He remembered then that Phobius had been standing right in front of Sierra before she’d paled and gasped, turning to Lucius and speaking quietly to him before running out of the establishment in a blur of lavender skirts.
“What did you say to her, Phobius?” he asked now, stalking toward the man until he and Phobius were practically nose-to-nose. He’d learned recently that Phobius was loosely one of Lucius’ business partners, and that he and Demos had known each other for years, and, in fact, had seemed closer than Fadon had realized. When the two were together, they communicated more like siblings than anything. But though both had blue eyes and were ridiculously attractive, they were opposites to one another: midnight to morn.
Phobius had just opened his mouth when Fadon heard the scrape of boots coming up behind him. It was Pateus, Lucius’ man, along with that weasel Pastorus, the man who shared information with the queen. Fadon respected no one who tattled, even though the information Pastoris had provided had served the House—you either were for something wholeheartedly or you weren’t. You couldn’t be both.
“What is it, Pateus?” Fadon barked out, meeting the man halfway. “Did you find her?”
