26. Alaric
Alaric
The silence in Raph’s office is broken only by the relentless ticking of the clock.
Ten hours. Of not knowing. Of imagining the worst.
Each hour feels like a day.
Raph sits at his desk, his head buried in his hands. The usual power that radiates from him has crumbled away. His shoulders tremble with each breath, and the scent of his distress burns my nose like smoke.
“Leo’s still calling businesses,” I say, desperate to break the silence. “Looking for any security footage that might give us a lead.”
Raph nods without lifting his head. “And my investigator is digging into that hacker angle,” he mutters against his palms. “Seeing if his contact can trace the breach back to the source.”
“That’s good,” I murmur. “It’s a solid lead.”
The words taste like ash in my mouth.
Finally, Raph looks up, and the raw anguish in his eyes breaks my heart.
“I can’t lose her, Al ,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Not like this. Not after—” He chokes on the words, his scent flooding with grief.
Five years of buried wounds resurface all at once, and suddenly we’re back there. Those endless nights of searching, watching hope die in his eyes day by day, feeling the rage and guilt pour off him.
“You won’t lose her,” I vow, crossing the room to him. My hand finds his shoulder and it feels like a spring ready to snap. His skin burns fever-hot through his shirt. “We won’t. We’ll find her, Raph. She’ll be fine.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s what I told myself about my sister too.
That she’d survive. That I’d find who shot her for her wallet and make them pay.
” His hands clench into fists, knuckles white against his desk.
“But I couldn’t do a damn thing. I was powerless then, just like I’m powerless now. ”
“You’re not powerless,” I insist, tightening my grip on his shoulder. “None of us are. We’re doing everything humanly possible to bring her home. Something will take.”
He meets my gaze, his eyes grim. “What if we’re already too late?”
The silence stretches between us.
“How do you do it, Al ? How can you keep faith after seeing how shit it can all turn out? I mean, with that client of yours…” His words send a jolt through me. “Even then, you stayed strong.”
Suddenly I’m back in my office, staring at Sarah’s empty chair. The guilt rises like bile in my throat. I push the image away, forcing myself to focus on Raph.
’This is different.” I say, the words scraping my throat. “We have a lead, resources—”
He looks up at me. “How am I supposed to keep going after losing someone I was supposed to protect?”
The question hits harder than I expected. My throat tightens as Sarah’s last message plays in my mind. The one I’d been too busy to answer. “I…”
“I’m sorry,” Raph says quickly, catching the shift in my scent. “I shouldn’t have—”
No, it’s…” I swallow hard, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “For a long time, I blamed myself.” I hesitate, exhaling slowly. “I know now it wasn’t my fault. But back then… I kept thinking if I’d just been more attentive, more available…”
Raph’s hand finds my wrist.
I take a deep breath. “Let’s not lose it, Raph. This is different. Lily… I’ve seen how far she’s come, the fire that’s built up in her eyes. She’s fought tooth and nail to reclaim her life. She’s not that scared, helpless Omega who first walked into my office.”
Raph’s shoulders sag. “I want to believe that,” he whispers. “I want to believe she’s out there, holding on.”
“She is,” I say, pouring every ounce of certainty I can muster into the words. “She has to be.”
I know if Raph sees me crumble now, that last thread holding him together will snap.
So I keep my voice steady, even as doubt gnaws at my mind.