The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 213: Nowhere to be Found

Sebastian~

5:40 AM

The shadows in my home stretched and danced like ghosts across the floor. I’d walked every corner, torn through every drawer, checked and rechecked every door, closet, rooftop—hell, even the chimney. Nothing. Not a single hair. Not a footprint. No scent. Just... absence.

Cassandra was gone.

My mind spiraled. I sat on the edge of the couch one second, paced the kitchen the next, then found myself standing in my now-empty room again. My fingers brushed the corner of the dresser she always leaned on when she smirked at me. The jacket she loved so much—gone. The boots I used to tease her about—gone. Even her damn silver dagger was gone.

I was unraveling. Completely. Utterly.

Then, twenty-five minutes later—though it felt like hours—I heard the faint thudding sound of rotor blades in the distance. My head snapped toward the noise like a hound scenting blood. It grew louder, sharper, until the air itself vibrated.

The chopper.

I bolted out of the house barefoot, ignoring the biting cold of the marble floors underfoot. Out in the yard, the sky was still bleeding dark blue, dawn barely brushing the horizon. The trees around my compound bowed under the weight of wind as the sleek black helicopter descended, blades slicing the silence open. It landed with practiced ease in the open field near the courtyard fountain, stirring leaves and gravel into a frenzy.

I saw him the moment the door opened. Zane. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and combat pants, not a wrinkle in sight, as if he hadn’t just jumped into a helicopter at 5:00 a.m. to deal with my crisis. In his hand, he held a small, sleeping figure. Alexander. The kid’s curly blond hair was flattened on one side, his face soft with dreams, his hand still clasped tightly in Zane’s.

Zane looked like hell—but the determined kind. The kind that could tear through a battlefield just to get to you.

He didn’t even hesitate. Once the helicopter’s runners touched down, he stepped out, adjusted Alexander’s weight in his arms, and started toward me.

I met them halfway, running like something possessed. I didn’t even say hello. I just stopped a foot in front of him and choked out, "She’s really gone."

Zane’s eyes flicked over me. "You look like you’ve been punched in the soul."

"Feels worse," I said, voice hoarse.

He nodded solemnly, adjusted Alexander again, and said, "Let’s go inside."

The helicopter took off behind us, wind kicking up my robe like I was some kind of deranged vampire Cinderella.

Inside, I led him to the kitchen. The place was a mess. Broken glass from when I’d accidentally flung a wine bottle across the room. Papers everywhere. My coat hanging on a chair like I’d tried to put it on and given up halfway through.

Zane set Alexander gently on the couch, covering him with a throw blanket. The kid didn’t even stir.

"I didn’t want to leave him alone," Zane said quietly. "If he woke up in that oversized bed without me or Natalie, he’d panic."

I just nodded, then slumped into a chair like my bones had finally betrayed me.

Zane sat across from me, folding his hands. "Sebastian... will you involve your coven? Maybe they can track her, like before?"

"No." I didn’t even hesitate. "I don’t want them anywhere near this. They’ll find out about my involvement with her, Zane. Or worse. I never told them about her being my mate. If they find out, they’ll hate me. Let them think I’m still their good master with no strings to the woman who murdered many of them."

His brow furrowed. "So what do we do now? There’s no trail. No footage. No message. She vanished like smoke."

"And Cassandra’s supposed to be in hiding," I muttered, gripping my hair. "If we go big with the search, we might as well paint a target on her back for Kalmia."

We sat in silence for a moment. The weight of it threatened to crush the air out of me.

Then Zane stood. "I’ll call Abel and Roland. Have them quietly mobilize some of my men to scan the city. Discreetly. No noise, no questions."

I nodded, shoved my chair back, and went to the study. I pulled up the most recent photo I had of Cassandra—she was mid-sneer, annoyed at me for taking a candid. Gods, I missed that sneer. I sent it to Zane, and he forwarded it to his people.

We began searching ourselves after that.

Zane carried Alexander in his arms the whole time, never complaining once about the weight. Not when we checked the old safe house near the docks. Not when we combed through the abandoned church in the woods. Not when we went to the penthouse of the hotel where Cassandra and Griffin once hid. The kid slept through it all, bundled in his father’s arms, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing.

I called my secret agents—ones even Cassandra didn’t know about. Told them to scan every CCTV feed in the city and beyond. Traffic cams, airport footage, border exits. Every goddamn lens in existence.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

By 9:00 a.m., we were sitting in my car, doors shut, engine off, parked just outside a vacant warehouse we’d checked twice already. Alexander still lay curled in Zane’s arms like a warm little anchor. Zane stroked his hair absently while staring at his phone. I watched him, the ever-calm prince, and finally let out a breath that felt like it would rip me in two.

"You know, I tried calling Jacob immediately I found out she was missing," I muttered.

Zane’s eyes flicked to mine.

"No answer," I continued. "Tried mind-linking Fox. Tiger too. Nothing. Like they’ve all gone silent."

Zane leaned his head back against the seat. "The ethanal siblings are all going through a rough time, Seb. Natalie, Jacob and the others... it’s complicated right now."

"Everything’s complicated," I whispered. "Everything except how much I love her."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard. "I don’t care if she’s a rogue. I don’t care if she killed hundreds of people. I don’t care if Kalmia is hunting her. I don’t care if she thinks she’s cursed. I want her here. Safe. Breathing. Sarcastic. Stubborn. Mine."

Zane glanced at me and gave the faintest smirk. "There’s the Sebastian I know. Dramatic as hell. Still handsome, even while unraveling."

I cracked a weak laugh. "Don’t lie to me, Prince Broody. I look like a corpse that lost a bar fight."

We both turned back to our phones. Still no messages. No calls. Just digital silence screaming louder than any alarm.

Then—

A sudden weight shift.

A scent of wolf.

And a voice—drawling, casual, infuriatingly amused—broke the tension like thunder cracking through glass.

"Well, well, well... Did someone say Ethanal siblings?"

We both jumped.

I twisted in my seat—and there he was.

Jacob Bartholomew. Mist himself. In the back seat like he’d been there all along, legs stretched out, head tilted, that maddening half-smile on his face.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Zane, ever the one to recover faster, glared and growled lowly, "Do you always have to make an entrance like a damn ghost?"

Jacob grinned wider, teeth flashing. "Of course. But this time? I come bearing news."

I leaned forward, heart pounding. "You found her?" I asked, even though I hadn’t told him a damn thing. Somehow—I just knew he knew.

"No time for questions," he said, waving a hand. "Drive back to your house, Sebastian. Your solution’s there."

Zane narrowed his eyes. "You better not be screwing with us."

Jacob shrugged. "When have I ever not screwed with you?"

I glared at him. "Jacob, I swear on your immortal eyebrows—"

"I said drive, vampire," he interrupted, suddenly dead serious. "Your solution lies in your house."

My heart kicked. Hard.

I threw the car into reverse so fast Zane had to clutch Alexander tighter to keep him steady.

The wind howled as I sped us back toward the house, mind racing, hope flickering like a candle in a hurricane.

Cassandra. You better not be gone. You better not be dead. Because I’m coming. And I will burn the world down to bring you back.