Chapter Twenty-Six
THE RIDE BACK to her place carried a weight that kept building mile by mile, my head locked on the same pieces like I was missing something right in front of me, because even after what Mystic said, even with how clean it all lined up, none of it settled the way it should’ve.
I didn’t kill the engine right away when I pulled in, just sat there for a second looking at the house like I was seeing it different now, like something about it should’ve changed if what I’d just heard was true, but it hadn’t, it was still dark, still quiet, still hers.
My jaw tightened as I finally cut the engine and swung off the bike, moving toward the door without hesitation this time because whatever this was, I wasn’t standing outside guessing anymore, knocking once out of habit before testing the handle and feeling it turn under my hand without resistance.
Unlocked.
That was the first thing that didn’t sit right, because Evie didn’t leave things like that, didn’t forget, didn’t slip, not her, and that thought followed me as I pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, the quiet hitting me all at once, thicker than it should’ve been, the kind that felt wrong the second it settled.
My eyes moved automatically, taking everything in without stopping anywhere too long, because nothing looked off at first glance, nothing broken, nothing disturbed, no signs of a struggle, no rush, no mess, just stillness, too much of it.
I closed the door behind me without thinking, the soft click sounding too loud as I moved further in, my boots quiet against the floor while I checked the space piece by piece the way I’d been trained to, the way I always did when something didn’t sit right, clearing the living room, then the kitchen, finding nothing that pointed to anyone else being there and nothing that suggested she’d been dragged out.
Which meant something else.
My jaw tightened as I turned down the hall, already knowing where I was going before I got there, my pace picking up just slightly even though I didn’t want it to, even though something in me was already bracing.
Her bedroom.
The door was open, and the second I stepped inside, and I noticed the packed suitcase laying on the floor. Why would she pack and then leave it behind?
My chest tightened as I stepped further into the room, my gaze slowing now, more deliberate as it moved across the space piece by piece until it caught on the nightstand, on the folded paper sitting there like it had been placed, not forgotten.
Left.
For me?
I stood there for a second without moving, staring at it like it might disappear if I looked too hard, like it might not say what I already knew it would, because whatever was in that note wasn’t small, it wasn’t something that left things the same.
I crossed the room slower this time, reaching for it before I could second-guess it, feeling how light it was in my hand as I unfolded it carefully, my eyes moving over the words once and then again, slower the second time, taking in what she’d written.
My jaw tightened as something shifted under the surface, the pieces rearranging themselves into something different than they’d been minutes ago, because she’d been leaving, that part was clear, but she hadn’t ridden off with that Fire Dragon because she had chosen it.
She’d been trying to get away.
And that changed everything.
My chest pulled tight as my mind snapped through it faster now, focused, cleaner, every detail hitting differently, she didn’t answer, Ruby didn’t answer, Mystic saw them get picked up, not leave… picked up.
My grip tightened slightly on the paper as something colder settled in, not the same anger from before, not the clean edge of betrayal, but something heavier, more complicated, something that didn’t give me an easy answer.
“She didn’t tell me,” I muttered under my breath, more to the room than anything else, my gaze dropping back to the note. “Didn’t trust me with it.”
That hit hard, because it meant she knew, knew something was coming, and she still didn’t come to me, didn’t give me the chance to fix it or stop it or do the one thing I should’ve been able to do, and yeah, she left the note, left me something to go on, but that wasn’t trust, not really, and it sat wrong in my chest in a way I couldn’t shake, my hand dragging over my mouth as I let out a breath that didn’t do a damn thing to settle it, because none of that mattered now.
She was in trouble.
That was it. That was the only piece that counted, and everything else shifted around it, because this wasn’t betrayal—not the kind I’d thought, not something simple I could get mad at and walk away from—but something bigger, something that had already been moving before either of us caught it, and I went still for half a second, then moved again, my attention dragging back across the room like I’d missed something the first time.
And I had.
It was small, easy to overlook, down near the floor, a scuff that didn’t belong to her, didn’t belong to anything that should’ve been in this house, and the second I saw it, it hit.
Someone else had been here.
She didn’t leave.
They took her.
My hand tightened around the note before I forced myself to fold it, slower than I felt, sliding it into my pocket because I was going to need it again, then I turned for the door, already moving faster, harder, everything inside me starting to line up in a way I didn’t like, because this changed things, not just with her, not just between us, but everything, and my jaw locked as I pushed through the house and out into the yard, not slowing as I got on the bike and brought it to life, the engine kicking under me while something in my chest settled into something colder.
Because none of us saw this coming.
Drago.
Alive.
That thought landed hard and stayed there as I pulled out, pushing the bike faster than I should’ve, the road stretching out in front of me while everything else fell away, because whatever this was now, whatever I’d been dealing with before, it wasn’t just about Evie anymore.
This was war.