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Alaric’s POV
The office was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitors and the occasional shuffle of papers as Allesio sorted through reports. I stood by the window, staring out at the dark city. Its usual pulse of life felt muted tonight, like it was holding its breath alongside me.
Emilia was out there. Alone. Possibly hurt.
My grip on the glass of whiskey in my hand tightened until my knuckles went white. I hadn’t slept more than three days—not since she was taken. Every lead had been a dead end, every second wasted felt like an eternity, and every beat of my heart reminded me of what was missing.
Her.
“Alaric.” Allesio’s voice broke through my thoughts. He stood near the door, holding a stack of papers. His face was drawn, the lines of stress deepening. “We might hav
