It took a few hours to calm Alara down. Nik never left her side. He was surprised she was able to pull herself together in that length of time. She had to be traumatized. The king might have been psychotic as hell, but he was still her father.

They all sat in one of the meeting rooms, being tended to by physicians. Jason and Shawna had been rescued from the dungeons. They had been given the same sedative Gerard had given Alara. It was almost entirely out of their systems now, a process that had been sped along by a counter-elixir they’d been treated with.

Gerard was nowhere to be found. Neither was the dagger that had almost taken Nik’s mate away from him forever. They’d all assumed he’d snatched it up during his escape.

Guards and DPI agents swarmed about the place, turning it over for evidence of the king’s involvement with the witch mafia. Apparently, right before the ritual, the king had enchanted the guards so they were literally asleep on their feet. The spell had broken once the king had died. The guards had no idea what had happened.

All of them were still treating Alara as the acting leader. She’d told Nik what the king had revealed to her about her parentage. Since she was a bastard, she was ineligible for the crown. It fell to the next pureblood in line, which would be Izzy.

If only they could find her.

Alara had insisted on searching for her too, but her legs kept giving out. The aftereffects of the sedative, coupled with her shock, had taken a toll on her body, and she was forced to stay behind, at least for now, and rest.

Nik could tell it made her incredibly anxious, though. It would have driven him nuts too, if Gage were missing and he was unable to search for him himself.

Nik rubbed Alara’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. They’ll find her.”

“What if they don’t?” she said despondently. She had her elbows propped up on the table and was chewing on her nails. “What if she’s already dead?”

He’d considered that possibility, but no way was he going to voice it out loud. Alara needed encouragement, not heartbreak. “She’s not. I bet any minute now, we’ll hear word she’s been found and is alive and well.”

Alara grunted, not looking like she much believed him. It was the same reaction she’d had when the DPI told her they’d found the queen’s body. She’d stared blankly ahead, not looking like she was really there. He couldn’t imagine the shock she’d endured. It was like her brain had shut down, refusing to process anything. He remembered feeling that way when Verika left, after his father died, when his mother left… all the times he’d ever felt alone in the world. The grief would hit later. And he planned on being there to support her when it did.

An agent entered the room. Like the others, she was dressed in a freshly pressed pantsuit. Her hair was worn up in a tight bun that pulled at her face. He hadn’t seen any of the agents crack a smile. It was what made Verika stand out among them. She wasn’t like the others. She felt more human and less robotic.

“We’ve subpoenaed the phone calls on the king’s private line. We thought you should have a look at this.”

To Nik’s surprise, she handed the phone records not to Alara but to Gage. He took them, frowning deeper as he read. “This can’t be possible.” His eyes met Nik’s. “Crescent Manor’s number is on here.”

“What?” Nik reached for the paper, and Gage handed it to him. He quickly scanned it, finding Crescent Manor’s number listed more than once. It felt like someone had slapped the breath out of him. “Shit.”

“Mr. Johnson,” the agent said, addressing Gage, “As you know, we have been unable to find any more leads on the calls you had us subpoena from your manor. Not only were they untraceable until now, they were also encrypted by cloaking magic.” She looked proud. “Since we now know where the calls were going to, we’ve been able to successfully break the spell masking those interactions.”

“And?” Gage said quietly. He was perfectly still, as if bracing himself. Danica rested a hand on his arm and squeezed.

“We’ve listened to the calls,” the agent said, crossing her arms. “Do you know an ‘Erik Lacross?’”

“No fucking way,” Nik and Gage swore at the same time.

Danica’s eyes widened with recognition. “Is that the same Erik…?”

“Yes,” Gage said. He ran a hand over his face, which had gone white with shock. “He went with us to the witch’s cabin.”

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, sitting back and covering her mouth with her hands.

Alara looked at Nik, a question in her eyes and a frown on her lips. He shook his head. I’ll explain later, he told her.

“He talked to the king twice, it looks like,” the agent explained. “The king paid him to inform him when you”—she pointed to Gage—“started your mating Fever. He wasn’t given any other details as to why the king wanted to know this information.”

“So it wasn’t the mafia who put out the hit on Danica,” murmured Gage. “It was the king. But why?”

“We’ll do some more investigating and let you know if we find out anything else.” She left, leaving the room in stunned silence.

“Wow,” Nik finally said. His mind was blown. Never in a million years would he have thought noble Erik would be capable of being bribed. Then again, he did have a sick little sister a few states away to financially support. A little sister the pack now fully supported since he was gone. It was the least they could do for his service to the pack, traitor or not. They girl didn’t do anything wrong.

“I can’t believe it,” Gage finally said, shaking his head. “I trusted Erik with my life. Now I know he was responsible for setting off the assassination attempt on my mate.”

“The question is why?” Nik muttered darkly.

The room stewed on that a bit. First, Danica was almost murdered by the king. Then the bastard ordered hits on his own family. That plan failed, so he attempted to complete the ritual on his own.

What the hell was the Underworld coming to?

The hairs along the backs of his arm pricked like they did when a storm was coming and electricity was in the air. The question was, what exactly did this Mistress Black hope to achieve with all this bloodshed? What was her end game?

There was a lot of movement out in the hall. Voices rose as conversations were thrown about. One piece in particular stood out to Nik.

They were talking about the missing princess, Isabelle.

Alara heard it too. Her head snapped up, and she bolted out of her seat so fast the chair nearly toppled over.

Nik followed after her.

She tore the door open. “What’s happened? Have you found Izzy?”

“I told you to keep your voices down,” snapped one of the agents. Then she muttered something about “Damn werewolf hearing” before smiling. It looked fake, like she was out of practice. She probably was. “We have located Princess Isabelle.”

“Well, where is she?” Alara interrupted, trying to see around the woman.

The agent’s smile faltered. “Ma’am, I need you to calm down.”

Oh, shit. Anytime a law enforcement officer said those words, you knew they were prepping you for something bad.

Alara grew more hysterical. “I want to see her. I need to see my baby sister!”

When the guards tried to restrain her, she tore off past them, running down the hall.

The agent spoke into her walkie. “The princess is coming your way. Stop her from getting through at all costs.”

“Why?” Nik said. “What’s going on?”

The agent turned her nose up at him. “And who are you?”

“I’m her mate, dammit,” he growled. “Now tell me what the hell is going on.”

The agent blinked in surprise. She opened up her mouth to speak when Alara’s scream echoed down the hall.

At first, Alara didn’t want to believe what she was seeing.

“Izz…y,” she whispered in horror.

Her knees gave out and she started to go down. Two strong arms wrapped around her. The smell of the woods enveloped her—Nik’s smell.

She heard him swear as he tried making her look away, but she refused. They were sitting in a secret room at the end of one of the castle’s many hidden passageways. Izzy must have been kept prisoner here. Alara couldn’t imagine how alone and scared she must have felt, in the darkness by herself, waiting to die.

Her sister had been laid on an altar similar to the one she herself had been strapped to. Alara couldn’t tear her eyes off her sister’s bloody body, the dagger still embedded in her chest. Gerard must have found the knife and finished what her father started. Her sister’s eyes stared back at her, as if to say, “Why didn’t you try to protect me?”

Behind her, on the wall, was a message scrawled in blood.

The ritual is complete. Beware the coming darkness.

The ritual… three royal werewolves. Her mother, father, and now her baby sister.

Alara was an orphan. In one fell swoop, she’d lost her entire family.

The shock slowly wore off, replaced by something darker. Something with more purpose.

Rage.

Seething, she stood on one shaky leg at a time.

Nik hovered near her elbow. “Come away, Alara.”

“No,” she said firmly, staring down at her sister. “I need to see this. I need to remember who’s done this to me so I’ll be strong enough to face what’s ahead.”

“You’re not making any sense, love,” he murmured.

Feeling cold fury burning through her veins, she turned and looked her mate dead in the eyes.

“I’m going to kill Mistress Black.”