Henry’s POV
The morning sun was just filtering through frosted windows when I returned to Leila’s ruined chamber. The air still tasted of smoke and ash. Guards had swept through, but I needed to see with my own eyes. Liam and Elijah were elsewhere, Liam questioning the patrols and Elijah tracing faint scents beyond the door. I knelt by the splintered frame, carefully lifting a length of silvered silk from the shattered wood.
It glinted dully in the weak light, its threads unnaturally smooth. I pressed a fingertip to it and felt magic, old magic, not of our pack. I closed my eyes and let my training as a strategist take over. This was no simple kidnapping; it was planned, down to the tiniest detail.
I wrapped the silk carefully in a cloth and slipped it into my satchel. My next stop was
