The search lasted hours, but there was still no sign of Lyra—no scent, no trail, no trace. It was as if his little sister had never existed, vanished under his very nose without a trace.
By then, Orion was no longer himself. Rage had hollowed him out, regret clawing at what was left. He should never have brought her to the West, not when the threat of a war still lingered in the shadows.
And now, Chancellor Dawson could no longer deny his people's hand in the killings, not when his blood had gone missing in their territory. The thought alone made Orion's vision darken with murderous rage.
Diplomacy was dead.
He didn't care for the damned treaty, for peace, or for reason. All he cared about now was finding Lyra and making whoever took her pay with their lives.
So when his senses led hi
