Chapter 38: Shadows Beneath the Stone
The morning sunlight streamed in muted streaks through the frosted windows of Rowan’s office. Despite the hour, the fire in the hearth had burned low, the chill of lingering winter creeping through the stone walls of the packhouse. Rowan sat behind his desk, a map of the territory spread before him, though his focus was elsewhere.
The morning sunlight streamed in muted streaks through the frosted windows of Rowan’s office. Despite the hour, the fire in the hearth had burned low, the chill of lingering winter creeping through the stone walls of the packhouse. Rowan sat behind his desk, a map of the territory spread before him, though his focus was elsewhere.
His jaw clenched as he drummed his fingers along the arm of his chair, thoughts tangled in the frustration of the Elders’ interference, the still-missing Giselle, and the puzzle of betrayal he couldn’t yet piece together.
A knock at the door broke through the storm in his head.
“Enter,” he called sharply.
Sylah stepped in, her usual confident stride tempered by curiosity. She closed the door behind her.
“You asked for me, Alpha?”
Rowan nodded and motioned toward the seat across from him. “Have a seat. I need an update.”
Sylah sat, crossing one leg over the other. “This is about Elia.”
Rowan met her gaze, steady and hard. “Have you been keeping an eye on her, like I asked?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Closely.”
He leaned forward slightly. “And?”
“She’s careful—too careful,” Sylah replied. “She hasn’t done anything outwardly suspicious, but she’s been leaving her quarters late at night. Never through the main halls. Always out the side exits or slipping down back staircases.”
Rowan's brow furrowed. “Where is she going?”
“I can’t say for sure yet. The night of the celebration, I noticed Elia leaving the festivities early. She seemed anxious, constantly looking over her shoulder. I followed her discreetly and saw her heading back to the packhouse. I followed her to the lower levels—but she disappeared before I could see where she went.”
Sylah hesitated for a moment before continuing on. “I believe she went down into the cells that night before disappearing for the remainder of the events that came next."
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "The cells? That's unusual."
"I thought so too," Sylah replied. "Especially since there was no reason for her to be there."
“Yes. I have another question. About the night Giselle disappeared.”
Sylah’s shoulders stiffened slightly, though her expression remained calm. “Of course.”
“You said you saw Elia head into the lower levels of the packhouse that night. Down near the holding cells,” Rowan said, stepping closer. “But did you see anyone else? Anyone entering or leaving the cells after that?”
Sylah paused, thinking carefully. “I stayed in the corridor near the old stairwell for a while. I saw Elia slip down the hallway, but I didn’t follow. I didn’t want to alert her. She was acting... odd. Looking over her shoulder constantly, like she was nervous.”
Rowan nodded once. “I need to know if you saw anyone leave the holding cells after that. Specifically, Giselle.”
Sylah's brows pulled together. “No. I didn’t see Giselle. I didn’t see anyone come out from the cells, either. But...”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “But?”
She hesitated before speaking. “There’s a chance I missed something. I followed Elia’s trail as far as I could, but she disappeared near the old wine cellar door. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but—”
“That’s when Giselle was taken,” Rowan muttered, his hands tightening into fists. “And no one reported seeing the cell doors opened. Not a single damn guard.”
Sylah’s jaw clenched. “You think Elia released her?”
“I think someone did,” Rowan said, his voice low and dangerous. “And Elia just happened to vanish below the packhouse right before it happened.” Rowan’s jaw tightened. “She hasn’t returned to the cells since then?”
“No,” Sylah said. “But there’s something off about her behavior. She’s either hiding something or being very careful about what she lets anyone see.”
Rowan moved to a cabinet, pulling out old architectural plans of the packhouse. Spreading them on the desk, he scanned the detailed drawings.
"Here," he pointed to a section of the blueprint. "There's a passage leading from the cells to an old storage area. It's been sealed off for years."
Sylah leaned in, examining the plans. "Do you think Elia used it?"
"It's possible," Rowan said. "We need to check it out."
They made their way to the cells, the air growing colder as they descended. The scent of damp stone and old memories filled the space. Rowan led the way to the far end, where a wall bore the faint outline of a sealed door.
With effort, they managed to pry it open, revealing a narrow, dust-laden corridor. The passage stretched into darkness, the air thick with secrets.
"Stay close," Rowan instructed.
They moved cautiously, the only sound their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The corridor eventually opened into a chamber, its purpose long forgotten. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and old crates lined the walls.
Rowan's gaze settled on a set of footprints in the dust, leading to another exit.
"Someone's been here recently," he murmured.
Sylah nodded. "And they left in a hurry."
Rowan's mind raced. If Elia had used this passage, where had she gone? And what was her connection to Giselle's disappearance?
He turned to Sylah, determination in his eyes. "I need to find out where this leads. And fast."
Sylah stepped forward. “Do you want me to press the guards? See who was stationed where that night?”
Rowan nodded slowly. “Yes. Quietly. If someone’s lying, I want to know who and why.”
She didn’t ask why it mattered—she knew. Rowan’s mate had been taken from under his nose, and it wasn’t by chance. Not anymore.
Before Sylah turned to leave, Rowan stopped her with one more question. “If you had stayed longer—watched closer—do you think you would’ve seen it?”
Sylah looked away for just a second, regret flashing across her face. “Maybe. But I thought I was being careful.”
Rowan’s voice softened just a bit. “You were. This isn’t on you.”
But the tightness in his chest said otherwise. Someone had been one step ahead of them all. And he was going to find out who.
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