The Search
1824 Words
The room felt smaller with every word Nick spoke.
He sat on the edge of the clinic bed, shoulders tense, jaw tight, his fingers digging into the thin sheet as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored. His father stood a few steps away, arms crossed, alpha aura simmering just beneath the surface. Luna hovered near the door, silent now, her worry etched deep into her face.
Nick swallowed hard.
“There… there was someone,” he finally said.
The Alpha’s head snapped up. “Go on.”
Nick let out an irritated breath, anger and disbelief twisting together in his chest. “It was Iva.”
The name fell into the room like a stone dropped into still water.
Luna stiffened. The Alpha didn’t move.
“She came up to me at school,” Nick continued, his tone defensive, almost scoffing. “Out of nowhere. Said we needed to talk. I thought she was just going to whine again, like she always does.”
The Alpha’s eyes narrowed. “And?”
“And she told me we were fated mates,” Nick said sharply, throwing his hands up. “Just like that. Said it with a straight face, like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “I thought she’d finally lost it.”
Luna inhaled sharply. “Nick…”
“She has been acting strange since her shift,” Nick pressed on, almost desperate to justify himself. “Withdrawn. Delusional. She’s the runt of the pack, for Moon’s sake. Weak. Small. Unremarkable. How could she possibly be—”
The Alpha’s growl cut through the room, low and dangerous.
Nick faltered but pushed on. “I told her it was impossible. That she was imagining things. I mean—you said it yourself, Father. She’s unworthy. She has nothing to offer the pack.”
The Alpha didn’t react.
That should have terrified Nick more than anger.
“And then,” Nick continued, his voice dripping with disdain, “she went even further with her lies. She claimed she was the Moon Goddess’ Messenger.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Can you imagine that level of delusion?”
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Nick frowned. “Father?”
The Alpha was frozen in place.
His face had gone pale, his eyes distant, as if he were staring at something only he could see. For a long heartbeat, he didn’t breathe.
Then—
“YOU ABSOLUTE FOOL!”
The roar shook the walls.
Nick recoiled as his father stormed toward him, fury blazing in his eyes like wildfire. “Why,” the Alpha snarled, “did you not tell me this immediately?!”
Nick jumped to his feet. “Because it was nonsense! She’s insane! There is no way she’s my mate—”
The Alpha grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. “There are tests, you i***t! Ancient rites! Ways to confirm a Messenger’s identity!”
Nick stared at him, stunned. “What…?”
“You dismissed her without a second thought,” the Alpha continued, voice raw with rage. “You mocked her. You rejected her outright.”
Nick’s breath hitched. “I didn’t reject—”
“You did!” the Alpha thundered. “And you may have damned us all because of your arrogance.”
Luna stepped forward, trembling. “Are you saying… she could truly be…?”
The Alpha didn’t answer her.
Instead, his eyes glowed faintly as he reached out with his mind, searching, commanding.
Iva.
Nothing.
His frown deepened.
He tried again, pushing harder.
Still nothing.
A cold, sinking dread settled in his gut.
“No,” he muttered. “That’s not possible…”
His eyes snapped open.
“I never initiated her into the pack,” he realized aloud, horror creeping into his voice. “She has no official link.”
Nick’s heart began to pound. “Father…?”
The Alpha turned sharply and mind-linked Gamma Rhys.
“Bring your daughter to me. Immediately.”
Seconds stretched into an eternity.
Then Rhys’ voice came back, strained, panicked.
“I can’t find her anywhere, Alpha.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“I can’t find her,” the Alpha repeated between his teeth.
A memory flashed through his mind—the strange disturbance he’d felt earlier, the sudden ripple in the pack bond, the chaos at the ceremony.
His eyes widened.
“No,” he whispered. “Impossible…”
But deep down, he already knew.
The Alpha straightened, power flooding the room as his aura surged outward like a shockwave.
“All pack members,” he mind-linked, his voice booming through every connected mind, “this is an Alpha command.
Find Iva.
Now.
I need to speak to her urgently.”
Nick stood frozen, his chest hollow, the emptiness inside him throbbing painfully.
For the first time, the thought struck him with terrifying clarity—
What if she was telling the truth?
--
Hours passed, heavy and merciless, grinding down everyone’s nerves one by one.
At first, the Alpha had been certain it was only a matter of time. Iva could not have gone far. She was young, newly shifted, untrained in stealth compared to seasoned wolves. Fear, he thought, would slow her down. Confusion would make her careless.
He was wrong.
As the moon climbed higher and then began its slow descent, the truth started to settle like a suffocating fog over the pack.
Iva was gone.
Not missing.
Gone.
The pack territory was sealed within minutes of the Alpha’s command. Patrols doubled, then tripled. Borders were reinforced. Trackers fanned out in perfect formation, noses to the ground, eyes sharp, muscles coiled for pursuit.
And then came the first shock.
“There’s no scent,” one of the senior trackers said, confusion creasing his weathered face. “None. It’s like she… vanished.”
The Alpha snarled. “Impossible. Try again.”
They did. Again and again. Along the borders. Near the ceremony grounds. By the forest line. At the roads leading out of pack land.
Nothing.
No panic scent. No fear trail. No residual wolf signature.
It was as if the land itself had swallowed her whole.
Inside the Alpha house, the atmosphere was tense enough to crack bone.
Rana sat stiffly on the edge of a chair, hands clenched in her lap, her face pale and drawn. Rhys stood near the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. Teachers from the high school were brought in one by one. Guards. Students. Anyone who might have seen her last.
The questions repeated endlessly.
“When did you last see her?”
“Did she say anything unusual?”
“Did she seem afraid?”
“Did she mention leaving?”
No one had answers.
Her teachers shook their heads. “She attended class. Quiet. Distracted, maybe, but that’s all.”
Her classmates offered shrugs, awkward glances. Some smirked. Some looked uncomfortable. None had noticed her slipping away.
Then they searched her room.
At first glance, everything looked… normal.
Her bed was neatly made. Her clothes were folded. The shelves were orderly. No obvious signs of panic, no overturned drawers, no rushed packing.
For a brief, foolish moment, Rhys exhaled in relief. “See? She’s just hiding somewhere. She’ll come back.”
Rana didn’t respond.
She moved slowly, methodically, her eyes scanning the room with a mother’s instinct. She opened drawers. Checked boxes. Ran trembling fingers along familiar edges.
Then she froze.
“No,” she whispered.
They all turned to her.
Her hands shook as she pulled open the small wooden box Iva had kept tucked beneath her bed. The one she rarely touched. The one that held the pieces of her official existence.
It was empty.
Her birth certificate.
Her identification papers.
Gone.
Rana’s breath hitched as the reality slammed into her chest. “She planned this,” she whispered brokenly. “She planned everything.”
The room erupted.
“She ran?” someone gasped.
“Impossible—”
“She wouldn’t dare—”
The Alpha’s face darkened, fury and something far colder bleeding into his expression.
“She didn’t run,” he said slowly. “She escaped.”
His voice dropped to a dangerous calm. “Send in my best trackers. Every single one.”
They came.
Veterans who could follow a trail weeks old. Wolves who could track through storms, through rivers, through blood and ash.
Hours later, they returned.
Empty-handed.
“No scent,” their leader said grimly. “None at all. It’s masked. Completely.”
The Alpha’s fingers curled into fists.
Then came her devices.
Her phone. Her laptop. Every digital trace she might have left behind.
IT combed through everything. Search histories. Deleted files. Draft emails. Hidden folders. Cached data.
Nothing.
No plans.
No messages.
No goodbyes.
It was as if she had erased herself with surgical precision.
“That’s not possible,” the Alpha muttered. “She’s eighteen.”
But the evidence mocked him.
Finally, there was only one person left.
Lori.
She was brought into the Alpha house pale and shaking, her hands clenched together so tightly her knuckles were white. Her parents flanked her, fury and fear burning in their eyes.
“Sit,” the Alpha commanded.
Lori obeyed, swallowing hard.
“You were her closest friend,” the Alpha said, his voice sharp as a blade. “You knew her better than anyone. You will tell me where she went.”
“I—I don’t know,” Lori said, her voice trembling but sincere. “I swear. If I did, I’d tell you.”
The Alpha slammed his palm against the table. “Enough lies!”
Her parents surged forward. “Alpha, stop this—”
“She knows something,” he snapped. “She has to.”
Lori’s breath came faster. “Please,” she whispered. “I don’t know anything.”
The Alpha’s eyes flared.
“Then I will make you,” he said coldly.
Power flooded the room.
“No!” her mother cried. “That’s unnecessary pain!”
“She’s a child!” her father shouted. “You have no right!”
But the Alpha was beyond listening.
His voice dropped into command, heavy with dominance.
Tell me where Iva is.
The words slammed into Lori’s mind like a hammer.
She cried out, collapsing to her knees, clutching her head as tears streamed down her face.
“I don’t know!” she sobbed. “I swear on my wolf, on my life—I don’t know!”
The command recoiled.
Empty.
Truth rang through her bond.
The Alpha staggered back a step, dread finally sinking its claws into him.
Silence fell.
Slowly, horrifyingly, the realization dawned.
Iva had outplanned them all.
The Alpha closed his eyes briefly, jaw tightening as a bitter truth settled deep in his chest.
He had underestimated her.
- Writer
