Ronan pov
“Nothing?”
Beta car Marcus shifted uncomfortably. “We searched every tent, Alpha. Checked every refugee against the registration logs. The dogs found no trace of witch magic.”
I stared at the map spread across my desk, at the marked locations where Alex had found evidence of the border crossing. Burn marks. Footprints. Clear signs someone had fled into our territory using fire magic.
“The evidence was fresh,” I said, keeping my voice level despite the frustration building in my chest. “Two days old at most. She couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Perhaps she moved on. Went deeper into the wilderness rather than risk the settlements.”
“Or she’s hiding better than we anticipated.” I traced the route from the border to the refugee camp. “Magic could conceal her. Glamours, disguise sp
