Lost Omega

by Noah Harris

  “Have you managed to find any clues to Rajiah’s disappearance?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Arulean sighed heavily through his nose. “Blake managed to pinpoint the location of his phone, but we believe he may have dropped it and is no longer there.”

  “Lux and Viv are in the area,” Blake added. “I sent them the coordinates so they can check it out. We just have to wait for them to report back.”

  “Until then, perhaps our guests can shed some light on this situation.” Arulean started down the hall, his steps long and even, hands clasped behind his back. The guards at the door nodded as he approached, stepping back.

  Marcus pressed a kiss to Lucy’s temple, whispering in her ear. They exchanged small smiles before he stepped away to follow after Arulean.

  “I’ll fill you in later,” Blake said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Dylan’s lips.

  Dylan moved back, leaning away from the kiss and putting a hand to Blake’s chest to stop him. Blake blinked, confusion coloring his features. Dylan frowned. “I’m coming with you.”

  Blake’s brows furrowed. “But aren’t you—” he glanced down at where Lily stood, watching them expectantly.

  “This is important,” Dylan said, shoving aside the trickle of guilt he felt. “I need to be there. This involves me too.”

  Blake’s gaze flicked back to him, eyes searching Dylan’s face before moving down to his belly and back up. “But what about…”

  Dylan put a protective hand on his belly, fingers curling lightly into his sweater. He frowned. “I’m not that fragile, Blake. And you said yourself, they weren’t hostile.”

  “Not that we know of.”

  “I’m going into that room with you.”

  “What about Lily?”

  Dylan glanced down, his frown deepening. As much as he hated to admit it, Blake had a good point. They couldn’t just leave their daughter out here, but neither of them wanted to take her into the room with them. She was too young to be left to wander on her own, despite knowing the castle well enough to navigate its hallways. Still, Dylan didn’t want to miss the meeting. He resented being left out of mission developments, and he hated being treated like his condition made him fragile or weak.

  “I can take her.”

  They both turned to Lucy as she stepped up to them.

  “You don’t have to,” Blake said at the same time Dylan said, “Are you sure?”

  She waved them both off with a smile. “It’s no trouble at all. Really.” She held a hand out to Lily. “We’ll hang out, just us girls, yeah? Wanna see some of the cool new stuff we got since you were last here?”

  Lily’s eyes brightened, her tiny body straightening in anticipation. Her hand tightened its grip on Dylan’s shirt as she looked up. “Daddy, can I?”

  He nodded, glancing back at Lucy. “As long as Lucy is sure…”

  “Of course, I am.”

  “Thank you,” Dylan said. There was a slight sigh to his voice as he shot her a grateful smile.

  Blake bent down, planting his hands on Lily’s shoulders and pinning her with his gaze. “Now you be good for Miss Lucy, alright?”

  “Yes, papa.”

  “That’s my girl.” He planted a quick kiss on her forehead before standing. “Now you get going. Daddy and I have some business to take care of.”

  Lucy took Lily’s hand and led her away. She turned and waved over her shoulder as she went. Dylan gave her a small smile and lifted his hand in an awkward wave before they disappeared around the corner.

  “Well, then.” Blake turned, putting his hand at Dylan’s lower back. “Shall we?”

  Arulean led the way into the room, and they all filtered in behind him. All the witches froze as they entered, stopping what they were doing to turn and stare, all their expressions hard and wary. Conversation stopped, and as the door closed behind them, the room was thrown into silence.

  Arulean stepped forward, taking a seat on the couch across the coffee table from the witch who appeared to be their leader. She sat alone, poised in the center of the couch, back straight and legs crossed beneath her. Her hands rested easily on her knees as she eyed them.

  Another female witch sat to her left, perched on the arm of the couch. A male witch stood behind her and to the right, his hands on the back of the couch as he stood tall and protective. The other four were scattered around the room, but they were all silent and frozen wherever they had been just moments before.

  Marcus stood with his back to the door, silent, tall, powerful, and respectful. His legs were positioned shoulder length apart, hands clasped behind his back and chin held high. His face was expressionless, almost bored, but his eyes were sharp and calculating as they cast around the room taking everything in.

  Blake, never one to let the tension of a situation get to him, sauntered over to one of the armchairs. He sprawled out in it, legs stretched out comfortably in front of him, slouching a little, his arms hanging over the arm rests. His expression was relaxed and open, lips tilted just slightly into a smile.

  Dylan hesitated for a moment before walking over to Blake’s chair and positioning himself behind it. He rested his hip against it, half propped up on the back as he crossed his arms over his chest. His expression was similar to Marcus’s, but his posture was undoubtedly that of a mate, hovering over him, protectively. Blake’s smile quirked just a fraction wider.

  Then they waited. The silence stretched out. Arulean was the first to speak.

  “I welcome the seven of you to our home, though I must admit, your visit is unexpected and fairly unorthodox,” he started, sitting tall and regal on the couch, directly across from the witch leader. “My name is Arulean Black, and I am the leader of the Shadow Pack, where you now find yourselves.” His brow quirked. “Though, given that you are here and wished to speak with me, I assume you already know all of that. This is Marcus, my head of security, whom you have already met,” he said, gesturing to him. “And this is Blake and Dylan, my close friends and confidants.” His hand fell back into his lap, fingers relaxed and clasped loosely together. “Now all that remains is to understand who you are and what has brought you this far out of the way.”

  The witch on the couch shifted slightly, her eyes flitting to each of them before settling back on Arulean. She sat tall, her back pulling away from the couch as she lifted her chin. “I am Adalaide,” she said, voice confident and solid, but with an almost imperceptible waver to it. It was subtle and slight, but it gave away her nervousness. Dylan could see the slight shake in her hands and the way she clasped them tightly in her lap to try and hide it. So, the witch wasn’t as icy as she tried to appear, he thought. Interesting. “These are my friends, and…and my coven. What is left of it, anyway.”

  Her voice wavered again, and the man behind her put a steadying hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. She shot him a grateful look before turning back to Arulean. “We’re here to warn you, but also to offer our help.”

  Blake’s eyebrows rose at that, lips pursing into a curious frown. When he glanced over at Arulean, the man looked similarly perplexed. “A warning?”

  She nodded. “There is trouble brewing. Trouble that goes far beyond just you, me, your pack, or my coven. It could have devastating repercussions.”

  Her voice was grave, brows furrowed and lips curved into a frown. Silence filled the room. The witches shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Two of them settled in the window seat, while another slid into an armchair. The forth leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyes downcast. There was an air of melancholy about them, accompanied by shame and worry.

  “Well,” Blake said, cutting through the silence, he kept his voice light and teasing with an edge of seriousness. It was just enough to ease the mood, but not enough to derail the conversation. Dylan was forever in awe at how composed the man could be under any circumstances. “You’ve got our attention.”

  “Indeed,” Arulean mused, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the couch, str
etching his long legs out in front of him. His face was blank. “Do enlighten us to the danger.”

  Adalaide closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Her shoulders slumped a little, but when she opened her eyes, her gaze was firm and unwavering as she stared at Arulean. Dylan had to admit he was impressed. Few people had the gall to make solid eye contact with the ancient weredragon, especially upon their first meeting. He was an intimidating man.

  It was, however, a great way to earn the man’s respect.

  “Our original coven…there were, are, more of us…” she started to explain, speaking slowly and concisely, each word weighing heavily on her tongue. “Our home coven is big and ancient. Our ancestors date back centuries, and we have roots all over Europe. We were one of the covens allied with the dragons and shifters before the trials.”

  Dylan glanced at Arulean in time to see the flicker of recognition and understanding. “The Everlight Coven,” he whispered.

  Adalaide’s lips twisted into a wry smile, head tilting to the side. “The very same.”

  “I had heard your coven survived the trials, but there’s been little word of you since.”

  She nodded. “We, like most covens, went silent after the trials. We have signed ourselves to the Paranormal Pact, like the others, but other than that, we keep to ourselves. That is…actually why I’m here. Our old coven might break the Paranormal Pact.”

  Blake raised a brow. “Old coven?”

  Arulean mirrored his expression and tone of voice. “Might?”

  Adalaide nodded again. “We were…we weren’t quite kicked out, so much as we chose to leave. It’s my brother. The leadership of the coven has been in our bloodline for generations. Typically, it passes on to the oldest child of the generation, but we’re twins. Our coven was fine with a co-leadership arrangement, but Abel is…”

  “Power hungry,” mumbled the woman sitting on the arm of the couch.

  “Mad,” said the man standing behind the couch.

  “A tyrant,” said one of the witches by the window.

  Adalaide’s lips pursed into a frown. “He’s too eager and blinded by power. He thinks we’ve been idle for too long, he resents the Paranormal Pact and what it stands for. He doesn’t think we should cower. He thinks we should take a stand.”

  Arulean’s brows pinched. “We are…familiar with the type. What does your coven think of it?”

  She sighed, shoulders slumping further. Her eyes dropped to her hands, and she stared at her open palms. “They are…swept away by his visions of grandeur. Most of them don’t even think to question him and are afraid to leave. He knows how to rally everyone and build their hope with his overzealous promises. Most of them don’t see the downside to his plans, and that is mostly because he doesn’t share his plans completely.”

  “And you seven?”

  She looked back up, wry smile back in place. “We left. I challenged him, and I lost. I was given the choice to submit or leave. I chose to leave. My closest friends followed me.”

  “Abel is up to no good,” one of them said.

  “And we couldn’t let Adalaide just go off on her own,” said another.

  “Unfortunately,” Adalaide continued, “my brother wasn’t so willing to let us go. Especially since I knew the truth of his plans. He tried to stop us, but we escaped in the dead of night. It took us a while to make our way here, as we had to stay hidden from him and his spells, but we finally made it.”

  “You have,” Arulean said slowly, interested and curious, but wary and suspicious at the same time. “The fact that you have come to me, specifically, tells me that this involves more than just the Paranormal Pact. It tells me that this includes me, and my pack.”

  She smiled, but there was no humor there, and it didn’t reach her eyes. “I wish you were wrong. I wish we were just coming to seek refuge. Unfortunately, we need your help, and I think you could use ours.”

  “First explain how this involves me?”

  “My brother’s dreams might have stayed fruitless, falling to the wayside and eventually leaving him branded as a heretic, had he not found an ally. I believe you know him. His name is Thoric Jade.”

  There was a pause in the conversation, silence settling like dust in a still room as all eyes turned to Arulean. Dylan didn’t find the name familiar, and when he glanced at Blake, their eyes met and his mate only shrugged. Even Marcus looked confused.

  Arulean’s expression, however, was scrunched up in thought. Dylan watched him curiously, and saw the moment realization dawned on him. The moment his brows rose, eyes widening just a fraction. His lips parted as his jaw went slack, and he stared at Adalaide. Then, just as quickly as the expression came, it hardened. He closed himself away, his frown was back in place and there was a pinch to his brow.

  “I am familiar with him,” he said. Everyone seemed to wait for more of an explanation but it never came. “How does he have his hand in this?”

  Adalaide sighed. “I don’t know how they found each other, or how long they’ve been in contact, but my brother and Thoric have an alliance right now. A deal. Abel agreed to help Thoric with…his plans, and in return he would grant Abel access to power he’d never hoped to get his hands on before.”

  “And what’s the source of this power?” he asked, voice hard. “Our burial chamber? Where all the hearts of our ancestors lay?”

  She nodded, seemingly hesitant. “Yes, that…and you.”

  “Me?”

  “Thoric said he would hand you over to my brother so he could experiment however he wished on a living dragon. I believe…I believe Abel wants to find a way to syphon your power. You are, after all, one of the most powerful beings still alive.”

  “And how, pray tell,” Arulean said, words slow and voice low, dripping with danger, “does he plan to give me over to this witch?”

  Dylan felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, his instincts hearing the danger and triggering a response to run. He kept himself firmly planted, but he felt tense. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Blake was stiff in his seat, despite his easy posture. He reached out absently, and Blake’s hand met his halfway, holding onto each other in silent support and comfort.

  Surprisingly and admirably, Adalaide didn’t shy away from Arulean. She met his eyes steadily, refusing to shrink under his gaze. He could see her nervous ticks, but she still stood strong. A born leader. “He’s going to lure you into a trap.”

  Arulean raised one brow. “I am not so easily trapped,” he said dryly.

  “And that’s why they have the perfect bait.” She paused, and Blake watched her throat bob as she swallowed hard. When she spoke, her voice was softer, more wary. “They have your mate.”

  The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Dylan wasn’t even certain that anyone was breathing. He, for one, was holding his breath.

  “Come again?” Arulean asked, it was just a whisper into the silence, but everyone could hear it. The witches were tense, and only Adalaide remained relaxed.

  “They have your mate and your son,” she repeated, voice strong despite the subtle waver. When the room was quiet again, she continued. “They captured them while they were traveling. As far as I understand it, they plan to lure you out of the safety of your pack using your family as bait and then use our coven’s magic to trap you. With you out of the picture, Thoric plans to...mate with your mate and raise your child as his own. Once he rises in power, he can grant Abel access to your burial chamber.”

  Dylan could feel the anger rolling off Arulean in waves. He could see it in the tightness of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes. His whole body was tense, a spring ready to snap. His inner dragon roared, and Dylan’s wolf could hear it. His scent had become bitter and strong, and Dylan nearly choked on it, certain that even the witches could smell it. He automatically shrank away from the dragon, sinking further against the chair. Blake didn’t move, but his grip on Dylan’s hand tightened. Even Marcus looked nervous where he
stood by the door.

  “I see,” was all Arulean said. His entire body was as still as a statue, and Dylan had to strain to even see the rise and fall of his chest from his shallow breaths.

  “I’m certain they will both end up breaking the Paranormal Pact once they have what they want. This isn’t just a matter of your family and mine. This could have repercussions that could affect everything,” Adalaide continued, an urgent passion entering her voice. She leaned forward, holding Arulean’s gaze and refusing to back down. “Let us help you. We can help you track them down, and we can help neutralize Abel’s magic.”

  There was a long pause, one in which Dylan barely dared to take more than a few shallow breaths for fear of breaking the silence. No one moved. No one spoke. Their leaders continued to stare at each other, both expressions stony and cold, chiseled into determination and anger. Adalaide’s was pleading and Arulean’s was rage.

  “Blake,” Arulean finally said, eyes still on the witch.

  He started, jerking upright in his seat at the sudden bark of his name. He blinked, made wary eye contact with Dylan, and looked back to the dragon king. “Yes?”

  “You are good at reading people, and I trust your judgement. Is she lying?”

  Blake looked her over, his gaze turned calculating and sharp, he made small flickering movements as he took in everything about her. Blake prided himself on his ability to read people. Dylan had seen it in action time and time again. He watched his mate work, feeling a hot spark of pride.

  When he finally spoke, he did so with unwavering confidence. “No. She’s telling the truth.”

  Arulean nodded once. “I agree.” He stood then in one fluid motion, standing tall and dark, aggression and chaos rolling off him in his aura and scent. He was a terrifying sight to behold. “Now then,” he said, eyes sliding slowly around the room, taking a moment to pin each person with his gaze, “let us begin by finding my mate.”

  4

  Dylan was a man with simple needs and running was high on that list. Running was freedom to him. Running with a pack was even more exhilarating. To be able to feel the dirt beneath their paws and the wind in their fur was what it was like to truly live. Running with a purpose but without the urgency of danger made his heart soar and gave him strength.