He rushed down the corridor. The moment he reached her room and saw the empty bed, his blood ran cold.
Then he saw it, no guards. No doubt they were enjoying Akira's party.
He searched the tunnels and found Yleva and the guards. They had wolf marks on them. Wolf marks?
A slow, burning rage twisted through him.
Impossible.
He had set up those wards himself, shields no wolf or witch could break. No wolf should have been able to slip through them without tearing half the fortress apart.
Unless…
Unless she'd had help.
His jaw tightened.
There was only one person who knew the structure of the wards… only one person who understood the weak points he hid in every spell. And the only one foolish — or loyal enough to break them for Neriah.
Mira. His daughter.
He dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head.
Of course. Mira adored her.
And Neriah… Neriah had a way of making even stone bend toward her.
He let out a breath, a reluctant, bitter sound.
He was in love with her.
