CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the council building's marble steps as Knox and I emerge from what turned out to be a surprisingly successful first appearance.
As we approach our carriage, rapid footsteps echo behind us. We turn to see Astor running towards us with an urgency that immediately sets my nerves on edge.
"Knox!" Astor calls, slightly breathless as he reaches us. "We need to get back to the castle. Now."
The command in his voice cuts through the peaceful afternoon like a blade. Knox's entire demeanor shifts instantly from relaxed satisfaction to alert tension, his hand moving protectively to the small of my back.
"What's happened?" Knox demands, already guiding me toward the carriage with increased urgency.
"Young wolves," Astor says grimly. "Ones nearing their seasonal shift—they've been disappearing across various packs. Your father received word an hour ago and has called for an immediate emergency meeting."
The blood drains from my face as the implications hit me. Young werewolves, children approaching one of the most vulnerable times in their development, vanishing without a trace. The cruelty of targeting such innocent victims makes bile rise in my throat.
"How many packs are affected?" Knox asks as Astor helps us into the carriage with unusual haste.
"At least seven that we know of so far," Astor replies, settling his massive frame into the seat across from us. "The pattern suggests this isn't random—someone is specifically hunting children."
Knox's jaw clenches with barely contained fury, his green eyes blazing with protective rage. "How long has this been happening?"
"That's what the meeting is about," Astor says grimly. "Your father wants all the information gathered before we decide on a response."
The carriage lurches into motion, wheels clattering over cobblestone with a speed that mirrors the urgency of our return. Knox's hand finds mine, squeezing gently, but I can feel the tension radiating through his body like a live wire.
This is exactly what Jax needs, the calculating part of my mind whispers. High-level intelligence about threats to the kingdom, emergency protocols, potential military responses.
But as I watch Knox struggle with the news of missing children, his genuine anguish cuts through my mission-focused thoughts. This isn't just political maneuvering for him—it's personal. The idea of innocent young wolves being hunted clearly horrifies him in a way that seems utterly genuine.
How can someone with such compassion for children be the son of a monster?
The castle corridors blur past as we rush toward the emergency meeting, servants and guards stepping aside with practiced efficiency.
Knox's protective hand remains on my lower back as we navigate the familiar passages, but I can sense his mind is already focused on whatever horrors await us in that meeting room.
We reach the imposing oak doors of the king's private conference chamber, where two guards stand at attention with expressions more grim than usual. Knox pauses at the threshold, clearly expecting to enter alone, when King Alexander's voice carries through the partially open door.
"Is Aubrey joining us?"
The question hangs in the air like a test. I hold my breath, waiting for Knox's response, knowing this moment could determine whether I gain access to the kingdom's most sensitive intelligence.
Knox's voice rings out clear and firm, cutting through any doubt. "She will attend. She's my mate and future Luna Queen—these matters concern her as much as they do me."
Pride and guilt war in my chest at his unwavering support. He's fighting for my inclusion, trusting me with the kingdom's most secret business, while I'm planning to use that trust to destroy everything he holds dear.
This is what you wanted, I remind myself as the doors swing open. This is the opportunity Jax has been demanding.
But as we step into the conference chamber, anticipation quickly transforms into horror.
The room carries the acrid scent of preserving magic, similar to what I encountered at the Ancient Heart but stronger, more concentrated. Maps and documents cover every surface, but it's the shrouded form on the central table that makes my blood turn to ice.
Even beneath the white cloth, I can see the small size of the body. A child. A young wolf who should have been playing, learning, preparing for their first shift instead of lying dead on a council table.
King Alexander stands beside the covered form with Noah and several other advisors, their faces etched with grief and fury. The atmosphere in the room is heavy with rage and sorrow—the primal response of adults confronting violence against children.
"Seven packs confirmed so far," Noah reports, his voice tight with controlled emotion. "All victims were between twelve and fifteen years old, all within weeks of their anticipated first shift."
Knox moves closer to the table, his jaw set with grim determination. "Show me."
King Alexander nods to one of the advisors, who carefully draws back the white cloth. The sight that greets us makes my stomach lurch violently, forcing me to press a hand to my mouth to keep from retching.
The sight that greets us makes my stomach lurch violently.
The young wolf's body shows signs of unnatural preservation, with blood tears streaming from vacant eyes, but most disturbing is the expression of agony frozen on the child's face.
Even in death, their features are twisted with pain, suggesting they suffered terribly before the end.
But it's not just the visual horror that makes my knees weak. As I force myself to study the corpse more carefully, something chillingly familiar strikes me about the magical residue clinging to the small body.
The dark energy signature, the specific method of preservation, it all matches perfectly with what I've sensed around Avery's magic.
No. It can't be.
The realization hits me like ice water flooding my veins. If this is Avery's work, and Avery serves Jax faithfully, following his orders without question... then that means Jax is responsible for torturing and murdering innocent children.
My vision blurs as the implications crash over me. All those young wolves who've gone missing, all the families destroyed by grief—could my savior, the man I've devoted my life to serving, really be behind such monstrous cruelty?
"The pattern suggests systematic targeting," King Alexander continues, his voice heavy with paternal rage. "Someone is specifically hunting children at their most vulnerable time."
Children. The word echoes in my mind like a death knell. Jax claims to seek justice, to fight against tyranny and oppression. But what justice could possibly require the torture of innocent children? What cause could justify such unspeakable cruelty?
Knox's hand finds my shoulder, steadying me as I sway slightly. His touch is gentle, concerned, completely unaware that my horror stems not just from what we're seeing but from the growing suspicion that the man I loved might be responsible for it.
"Are you alright?" Knox murmurs quietly, his green eyes searching my face with worry.
I nod shakily, not trusting my voice. How can I explain that I might be looking at evidence of my mentor's true nature? That everything I've believed about Jax, everything I've based my mission on, could be a lie built on the bones of murdered children?