Chapter 86
Arthur
As the sun began its descent on the city, a sense of unease settled upon Arthur's heart. The evening air seemed to grow colder, carrying with it a disquieting hush that echoed through the empty rooms of his home.
Almara hadn't returned as she always did. Panic took root, gnawing at his insides, as the minutes stretched into hours, each one etching deeper lines of worry onto his face. He had tried so many times to reach out via the mate bond, but there had been no answer.
The only solace he had was that he could feel she was alive. But he should have been able to feel so much more. The mate bond should have connected them no matter how far apart they were. Something was definitely wrong.
His trembling fingers dialed Almara's parents, his voice strained as he tried to keep his composure. The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. No one had seen or heard from her since the morning.
Anxiety gripped him like a vice, and with each passing second, the world seemed to blur into a frenzied whirl.
Next, he reached out to his grandmother, a sage presence in his life, a source of wisdom and comfort. Her voice trembled with concern, mirroring the turmoil in his own heart. Together, they waded through memories and half-formed suspicions, trying to find a shred of hope, a clue that might lead them to Almara's whereabouts.
The ticking of the clock became a relentless drumbeat, a reminder of time slipping away. Arthur's mind raced, conjuring scenarios both terrifying and improbable. He refused to let despair take hold, clinging to the belief that Almara was out there, somewhere, waiting to be found.
A desperate resolve took over. Ignoring the gathering shadows outside, he dashed to his car, the engine's roar a discordant symphony to his racing thoughts. Noah's house, that was the next logical step. Maybe, just maybe, Noah held the key to this puzzle.
The journey felt interminable, the road stretching out like a ribbon of uncertainty. Each turn of the wheel was a heartbeat, each mile marker a question mark etched in the asphalt. When Arthur finally arrived, the sight that greeted him sent shivers down his spine. The house stood in eerie stillness, a sentinel guarding its secrets.
He knocked, his knuckles rapping against the door like a plea for answers. Silence answered him, and his heart sank. Fear threatened to consume him, but he pushed it back, steeling himself against the growing dread.
With a trembling hand, he tried the doorknob, a desperate hope that it might yield to him. The latch clicked open, and he stepped into the shadowed interior. The air hung heavy with the scent of familiarity, mingled with an undercurrent of foreboding.
Rooms seemed frozen in time, as if holding their breath, waiting. Searching became a methodical dance, each step a prayer for a sign, a clue, anything. Yet, the rooms yielded nothing, only echoes of laughter and whispered secrets.
Arthur's senses were heightened, every creak of a floorboard, every rustle of curtains a symphony of potential revelation. He could feel Almara, a distant pulse in the recesses of his mind, assuring him that she was still alive. Their mate bond, the unbreakable connection between their souls, was a lifeline in this sea of uncertainty.
Hours slipped away, the boundary between night and day growing thin. The moon hung in the sky, a pale witness to his frantic search. He could feel the exhaustion creeping in, gnawing at the edges of his determination. Yet, he couldn't stop. Not now. Not when Almara's presence was within reach, yet so far away.
In the heart of that empty house, Arthur's desperation met the void of the unknown. Time stretched and contorted, the boundaries of reality blurred. He couldn't shake the feeling that answers were just beyond his grasp, taunting him from the shadows.
He could smell her here, in this house. Her scent was all around him. He found where her scent was strongest and curled up in what must have been her favorite chair. He had been searching all night and he was exhausted.
He knew that he would need all of his strength to find ehr. WHile he’d been tearing Noah’s house apart, he had called several of his people. There were others out looking for her. He wasn’t alone in this. As much as he wanted to continue looking, he knew he might overlook something due to being tired.
And who knows? Maybe Noah would show up and be able to shed some light on her whereabouts. But Arthur had a sneaking suspicion that Noah had something to do with her disappearance.
He never should have trusted him with Almara. Arthur knew how much Noah wanted his wife, but he had respected their friendship. He had respected Almara’s wishes to continue to be Noah’s assistant.
Arthur pressed his lips together in a thin line. If Noah really was behind it, Arthur was going to do what he should have done a long time ago. He was going to rid the world of Noah Cunningham.
Almara
In the dimly lit room, I sat in silence, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Noah's voice, tinged with a strange mixture of vulnerability and determination, washed over me like a tide of secrets.
I listened, my eyes fixed on the floor of the cellar, absorbing every word as he unraveled a truth stranger than any tale I'd ever heard. Either his delusions were deeper than I thought possible or he was telling the truth.
He explained how his mother had been a werewolf and had somehow become impregnated with him. He was the only one of his kind and the mixing had given him unparalleled powers.
The revelation struck me with a mixture of awe and disbelief. It was as if the floor had given way beneath me, and I was left teetering on the edge of a precipice.
Noah's story unfolded like an ancient manuscript, revealing the chapters of his life that he had long kept hidden. Once, he had been the vampire prince, a title that resonated with power and authority. Yet, he had chosen to relinquish it all. Loneliness, a sentiment that seemed incompatible with his otherworldly existence, had driven him to this extraordinary sacrifice.
As his words lingered in the air, I grappled with a torrent of emotions. The weight of his revelation pressed upon me, threatening to suffocate reason and sense. A part of me yearned to embrace this newfound reality, to accept the fantastical and inexplicable. But another part recoiled, instinctively seeking refuge in the familiar, in the tangible.
I stole a glance at Noah, his features etched with a blend of hope and trepidation. His eyes, once pools of mystery, now bore a vulnerability. He had bared his soul, exposed his true self, in a bid for us to be together.
How had I managed to get myself mixed up into this? Before Arthur, I was just some nobody waitress. Now, not only was I the luna of the most powerful werewolf pack, I was also the object of desire for a werewolf/vampire hybrid that should have never existed.
A small part of me wished I had never met Arthur. That none of this had happened to me, but guilt tore at my heart. I rubbed my belly in an apology. I hadn’t meant it.
In the midst of my internal turmoil, I mustered the courage to speak, my voice trembling like the fragile wings of a butterfly. "Noah, this is... beyond anything I could have imagined. I need time to process all of this."
My gaze met his, searching for understanding, for a glimmer of recognition that this revelation was not easily digested.
He nodded, his expression a mixture of resignation and empathy. "I understand. Take all the time you need. This is a lot to take in, I know."
That was the understatement of the century. How many more truth bombs was he going to drop on me in a single day? Or night? I wasn’t sure how long I had been down here. I could only pray to the Moon Goddess that I got out of this in one piece.
