Marco's POV
"Hey. Look at yourself first." My father's hand settled on my shoulder before I could begin the briefing. "I think you needed a break, Marco."
The suggestion almost sounded absurd. Rest felt impossible when every waking hour had been spent searching, planning, and failing to find even a trace of the two people who meant the most to me.
I stood at the head of the war room, surrounded by pack leaders, counselors, and what remained of my reliable warriors. The map table glowed with countless markers showing every land we had scoured. Three months of relentless pursuit left me with no victories, only frustration. Three agonizing months without Lara. Three months without my son. Each day had carved a deeper ache into my chest.
As my gaze moved across the room, uneasiness crept beneath my skin. Corbin's seat was unoccupied. Even a portion of my elite fighters, wolves who had always been present, were nowhere to be found. Their absence felt wrong, especially now.
