A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 129: The Search Begins
[Ace’s POV]
The sight of Ann and Ray standing together in the crowd sent a wave of momentary, desperate relief crashing over me. They were unharmed, anchors in the swirling chaos. But the relief was instantly swallowed by the raw, panicked pounding of my own heart, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs that threatened to crack them. The void where Ovelia should have been was a physical ache, a cold hollow in my chest that no amount of deep breaths could fill.
I closed the distance to them in a few long strides, the festive music and laughter now a grotesque, mocking soundtrack to my terror. "Ann, Ray," I blurted out before they could even greet me, my voice ragged. "Have you seen Ovelia?" The question was a plea, a fragile hope thrown into the air.
Ann’s eyes, which had been scanning the area with a hunter’s cool assessment, snapped to mine, sharpening with immediate concern. "What happened to Lady Ovelia, Sir Ace?" she asked, her voice tight. "Didn’t I leave her in your care before I departed?" There was no accusation in her tone, only a stark, terrifying need for facts.
The simple, logical question was a gut-punch. "I... I only looked away for a few seconds," I confessed, the words tasting of bile and failure. "A child collided with me. When I turned back..." I gestured helplessly at the empty space beside me. "She was gone. Just... gone." I dragged a trembling hand through my hair, the silver strands catching on my fingers. "I called for her. I looked. I can’t... I can’t find her." My wolf, Fenrir, was a raging storm of anxiety in my mind, his silent howls echoing my own panic, urging me to transform, to tear through the crowd until I found our mate.
Ann’s hand flew to the hilt of her dagger, her knuckles white. Her professional composure didn’t crack, but her eyes went flat and cold, the eyes of the weapon she had once been. "I will find her," she stated, the words a vow carved in ice. Before I could issue an order or form a plan, she turned and was gone, melting into the throng with a speed and silence that left no trace.
I turned to Ray, my silver eyes wide, the plea in them naked and desperate. "I was trying to locate Gale, too," I said, my voice dropping to a strained, private whisper. The confession felt like another failure. "I can’t find him either. If he were here, with their bond... he could pinpoint her in an instant." I stared down at my empty, useless hands. A more profound truth, uglier and more damning, clawed its way up my throat. "No. That’s not it. If I had just... if I had accepted her as my true mate and marked her when I should have, I would be able to feel her. I could track her through our bond." The words were a vicious whisper. "I failed her before any of this even began."
Suddenly, Ray’s large, strong hands came down on both my shoulders, their weight firm and grounding. He gave me a slight, deliberate shake. "Put yourself together," he commanded, his voice low and serious, cutting through the spiral of my thoughts. His orange eyes held mine, allowing no escape. "This isn’t the Ace I know. The Ace I know is a strategist. He doesn’t panic; he calculates." Then, his expression softened, the stern general giving way to the protective older brother. He released one shoulder to ruffle my hair in a rough, affectionate gesture. "Stay calm. We will help you find her. All of us." He offered me a genuine, reassuring smile that held the weight of a hundred battles fought side-by-side.
I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, the cold night air scraping my lungs. "Thank you, Ray," I managed, the words thick.
He gave a single, firm nod, his smile fading back into the focused intensity of the hunt. "I’ll sweep the western lanes and the merchant square," he said. And then he, too, was moving, his broad shoulders and imposing presence carving a swift, clear path through the crowd as he headed west.
Alone again, the panic threatened to surge back, a tidal wave waiting to drown me. I had been so consumed by fear I couldn’t think. Transforming into my full werewolf form would cause mass panic, create a stampede, and make finding her in the chaos even more impossible. It was the worst thing I could do.
I am a half-witch, I reminded myself, forcing the analytical thought through the noise. All my senses are enhanced because of that blood. My hearing, my sight, my smell—they are sharper, more acute than any pureblood werewolf’s. I closed my eyes for a single, focused second, reaching inward past the human fear. Fenrir. You need to be calm, too. Panic makes us blind. Deaf. Stupid. We will find her. We have to. I felt the restless, seething energy of my wolf slowly, grudgingly, begin to bank its chaotic fires. The raw panic churned and refined itself, funneling into a single, diamond-sharp point of focus. It was a cold, silent hunting focus I had never needed to summon for her before.
This time, I would not fail.
[Ann’s POV]
The moment the words left Sir Ace’s lips—I can’t find her—the world dissolved. The crowded lane, the flickering lanterns, the murmur of voices, all of it receded into a distant, gray haze. Only the objective remained, glowing with a white-hot, terrifying clarity.
Lady Ovelia is missing.
My wolf’s consciousness, usually a low, watchful rumble in the back of my thoughts, surged forward.
With a powerful push of my legs, I launched myself onto the low roof of a nearby vendor’s stall, the thatch groaning under my weight. From there, it was a series of silent, fluid leaps from one rooftop to the next, my boots scraping on clay tiles and wooden shingles. I didn’t care if people below pointed and shouted. I didn’t care if the village watchers saw me and gave chase. Let them try.
From this vantage point, the festival was a moving tapestry of color and light, the music a dull throb from below. Using my sense of smell to track her was hopeless; the air was a solid wall of cooking smells, perfumes, and sweat. But from up here, I could use my eyes. I scanned the sea of faces, my gaze darting from one blonde-haired head to another, searching for a flash of the dress she wore.
I need to find Lady Ovelia. The objective glowed, white-hot. I will keep her safe. I cannot break another promise. A dark, competitive fire sparked beside the fear. I cannot lose to Gale. Not in this. Finding her, bringing her back—this is my purpose now, not his. My vision sharpened until every detail below was painfully clear. I will definitely find her.
[Ray’s POV]
As I moved away from Ace, the ghost of his panic clung to me. That raw, unguarded terror on his face... it was a reflection of a feeling I knew too well. I had felt it years ago, holding my mother as her life faded in my arms—that same frantic, helpless, world-ending fear. It was the very reason I had built walls around my heart, why I refused to entertain the idea of a fated mate. Love felt like the blueprint for that kind of pain. To open yourself up to someone was to hand them the knife that could one day gut you.
Seeing Ace broken open by that same fear, though... a harsh, uncharitable part of me hoped this crisis would finally shatter his own careful denials. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, not when the mere threat of losing Ovelia had flayed him down to his most primal, honest self. The bond he fought was now the only thing that could have prevented this agony.
My path through the crowd was less frantic but just as determined. I wasn’t just searching for a political symbol of peace. I was looking for Ovelia, the girl who smiled at simple foods, who had somehow woven herself into the ragged fabric of our strange little family. She was our friend. She was family.
The festive atmosphere now felt like a thin veneer over something darker. The masked men, the black market dealings—they were all connected threads in a shadowy design. But for now, the design could wait. The mission was singular.
We will find her, I thought, my jaw set, my own senses stretching out as I moved through the lantern-lit streets.
