The sun had not yet risen over the Italian coast, but the palace was already breathing. Silas lay still on the silk sheets, his eyes fixed on the ornate ceiling. Beside him, Alaric was finally asleep. The Prince's arm was thrown possessively over Silas's waist, a heavy weight that felt like a shackle.
On Silas's neck, the mark throbbed. Every time Silas tried to move, a wave of comfort washed over him, begging him to stay. It was the "Golden Leash."
I can't stay, Silas thought. If I stay, I am just a trophy. He reached into the hidden seam of his discarded boot and pulled out a tiny glass vial. The Neutralizer. He swallowed it, and the warm "pull" of the mark went silent, replaced by a cold, hollow void. Now, he could think like a killer again.
Silas didn't just walk out the door. He knew the hallway was lined with elite Royal Guards—men trained to hear a heartbeat from ten feet away. He moved to the balcony, but he didn't jump immediately. He pulled a small, high-tech device from his belt—a Signal Jammer he had brought for his original mission.
With a click, the red lights on the security cameras across the garden flickered and died for exactly sixty seconds.
Silas stepped onto the stone railing. Instead of dropping to the ground, he grabbed a decorative ivy trellis, sliding down the side of the stone wall like a shadow. Halfway down, a guard's flashlight swept across the wall. Silas froze, pressing his body into the dark bricks, holding his breath until the light passed.
He hit the grass silently, but the real challenge was the Outer Perimeter. Two guards stood at the garden gate, their rifles slung over their shoulders.
Silas didn't use a weapon. He used a distraction. He tossed a heavy coin into the bushes on the far left. The metallic thuddrew both guards' attention for a split second. In that heartbeat, Silas sprinted in the opposite direction, staying in the "blind spot" of the garden spotlights.
He reached the high stone wall that bordered the palace. He didn't use the gate. He found the drainage pipe he had scouted earlier, climbing it with the agility of a man who had spent his life escaping the impossible.
As he reached the top of the wall, he looked back at the palace one last time. The Neutralizer was making his chest ache, and his heart felt heavy with the loss of Alaric's presence, but he was over the wall. He dropped into the dark forest outside, disappearing into the mist just as the palace's morning bells began to ring.
An hour later, inside the royal suite, Alaric's eyes snapped open. He reached out to touch the space beside him, but the sheets were cold. He couldn't feel Silas. The bond was a dark, silent hole.
"Silas?" Alaric's voice was a panicked roar.
He saw the note. He saw the drive. He saw the open balcony door.
Alaric stood up, his Alpha pheromones exploding in the room with enough force to shatter the glass on the nightstand. He walked to the door and pulled it open, finding the guards standing at attention, looking confused.
"He is gone," Alaric growled, his eyes turning a lethal, midnight black. "He walked right past you, and you saw nothing."
"Your Highness, the cameras... there was a glitch," the lead guard stammered.
"He is a Vane Ghost," Alaric said, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. "Alert the ports. Close the borders. Tell the King I don't care about the Crown. My mate is missing. And I will burn every city in this country until I bring him home."
The hunt had begun.