CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.

(GABRIEL'S POV)


It had been three long, agonizing months since my beloved mate, Liora, had inexplicably left the hospital against medical advice, disappearing without a trace. Three months of relentless questioning, frantic searches, and dead ends at every turn.

I sat alone in the dimly lit confines of my office, elbows propped on the polished wooden desk as I stared unseeingly at the blank sheet of paper before me.

The nurse's promise to contact me if Liora returned had proven empty – not a single word had come through on the secure line I'd provided.

Which could only mean one of two possibilities: either my mate remained deliberately in hiding, her instincts warning her against placing trust in anyone...or something far more sinister had befallen her tender soul out there in the great anonymous expanse beyond my lands.

A low, anguished keen echoed through the deepest recesses of my psyche – the mournful cry of my wolf, Draco, giving voice to the profound sense of emptiness that had been my constant, gnawing companion these past weeks.

"What do we do?" I found myself murmuring aloud, raising haunted eyes to search the shadowed corners of the room as if Draco's corporeal form might materialize before me.

Only eerie silence answered, as empty and devoid of warmth as the hollowness rapidly consuming my tattered heart with each fruitless day.

Until now, I'd been operating under the assumption that Liora's disappearance was a consciously chosen act – that she knew the risks of placing her safety in my hands too readily after the incident that had nearly claimed her life. That she would ultimately find her way back to me once she felt her vulnerabilities had passed.

But with the growing stretch of deafening stillness where word of her whereabouts should be, a horrible new consideration was beginning to take insidious root.

What if she wasn't alright at all? What if those same malicious forces were still actively hunting her, and had at last succeeded in their vile mission?

The thought caused an icy fist of dread to clench around my pounding heart. No...I couldn't succumb to that bleak outlook, not without exhausting every feasible recourse at my disposal.

Jaw setting in a mulish line, I snatched up my secure phone and mashed the keypad with a touch more vehemence than intended, composing a terse summons to my most trusted subordinate.

"Patrick, I need you in my office at once," I typed out, keeping the message as devoid of context as possible – an ingrained habit when seeking privacy.

Barely a minute had elapsed before a crisp rap sounded on the thick oak door. I didn't wait to grant entrance before the tall, powerfully-built beta slipped inside with a respectful dip of his graying head.

"You wished to see me, Alpha?" he rumbled in his gravelly baritone, studying me with keen eyes.

I inhaled slowly, steadily before replying. "Do you know if we have anyone skilled enough to visually recreate a person's appearance through descriptions alone? I need someone to draw a woman for me."

Patrick's brow furrowed ever-so-slightly in brief contemplation before he responded. "Aye, I think we might just have the right man for that. Liam's got quite the artistic talent – I've seen him render pack members' portraits down to the finest details just from memories."

"Good," I said with an approving nod. "Then go fetch him at once, if you would. It's of the utmost urgency."

"As you command, Alpha," Patrick replied respectfully, turning to depart.

"And make it discreet!" I called out as the oak door swung shut behind him. "This matter requires absolute discretion."

Within a handful of minutes, his reappearance heralded the arrival of a lanky, bright-eyed youth with an aura of quiet intensity. Without preamble, I gestured to the young wolf to claim the single vacant seat across from me.

"I need you to draw a woman for me as I describe her," I stated in a low, even tone, studying him carefully for any hint of hesitation or uncertainty.

Finding none, I continued when he merely inclined his head in mute acquiescence. "Her hair is a rich, charcoal black, thick and fairly long, falling in loose waves past her shoulders..."

One by one, I recited each and every exquisite detail about Liora's visage that had been seared into my very soul – from the depths of her soulful emerald eyes and the pert, delicate slope of her nose to the gentle curves of those full, rosy lips that had been meant for my kiss alone.

For nearly an hour I wove the verbal tapestry, watching in silent awe as the young artist's deft strokes gradually transformed the blank canvas into a shockingly accurate rendition of my beloved's ethereal beauty.

At long last, Liam sat back with a weary exhalation, rolling his shoulder before extending the sheaf of parchment towards me with an inquiring look.

Numbly, I accepted the proffered rendering, an almost painful lump swelling in my throat as I drank in the sight – from the tumble of shining, silk-like tresses to those enormous, soulful eyes that seemed to stare back at me with all the gentle compassion and warmth I remembered.

"Yes..." I managed in a bare rasp of sound, clutching the image against my heaving chest with one hand while reaching for my coin purse with the other. "This is her life."

Pressing a generous handful of gold and silver into the young wolf's calloused palm, I inclined my head towards him in gratitude. "You've done phenomenal work here," I praised hoarsely. "Thank you. The pack is lucky to have one of your talents among us."

A visible flush crept up Liam's neck at the effusive commendation, but he ducked his chin in modest acknowledgement before slipping from the chamber.

Only after the door had clicked softly shut did Patrick finally dare clear his throat, drawing my attention his way with a meaningful look.

"And what are your intentions with this, if I may be so bold as to ask?" he inquired carefully, having likely pieced together the larger implication from the reverence with which I'd handled the simple portrait.

For a protracted beat, I could only sit mesmerized by Liora's likeness, tracing the delicate contours of her face with one trembling fingertip.

"I want this image copied as much as you can," I said at last in a low voice, brooking no argument. "To whatever shadowed corners and discrete channels access can be bought."

Patrick inclined his head solemnly at my steely tone. "And the message to accompany it?" he prompted.

My lips peeled back in a feral semblance of a smile, baring a hint of the wolf lurking just beneath the surface as an ominous sense of something darker than mere possessiveness stirred within me.

"Tell them the Lycan King has issued a generous bounty for the safe retrieval of this woman - and I don't care what means are required to secure her, so long as she remains wholly unharmed throughout," I growled, the command resonating with an undisguised threat.

As the burly wolf departed to carry out my edict, I remained seated, clutching Liora's rendering with a reverence bordering on the sacred as I repeated the solemn vow I'd sworn so many sleepless nights before.


"My mate was torn from my grasp , though no fault of her own but out of ignorance. But soon I'll get you back."

"Soon, beloved," I whispered fervently to her placid, painted features. "Soon, we shall be reunited – no matter how many lives or sins I must claim to reclaim you as my own."