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Mor climbed into the front beside Lily, wincing as pain shot through his middle.

“Mor, you look like you’re about to die on the spot,” Lily said. She tossed him the folder and crossed her arms. “You should read that. It took me a few days to dig this up. I think I figured out who Violet is.”

Mor’s fingers ran over the file on his lap. “Just take flight,” he said. “We need to find her.” He swallowed as Lily turned the vessel’s gadgets and they began riding across the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Connor asked glumly from the back seat.

Lily hit a button and a divider wall began to roll up in the middle of the car, blocking her partner off from the front seat.

Connor snorted. “Wow, really—?” But his question was cut short as the wall sealed.

“Okay, but seriously, where are we going?” Lily asked Mor when it was just the two of them.

“I’m not sure. She could be left on a rooftop, or in a closet, or beneath a bridge, or on a boat. She could anywhere. Are the rest of your allies participating in the hunt as well?” he asked. “We’ll cover more ground with your whole brotherhood of human police officers.”

Lily nodded. “I’ll call it in officially, and we’ll get all the city stations involved. We’ll find your people, Mor,” she promised.

Mor lifted the lid of the folder. He rubbed his side, shoving the ribs back into place so they’d heal faster. He released a grunt, making Lily glance over. But all his pain melted to numbness as he read the page before him.

He read for exactly four seconds before he slammed the folder shut again.

Lily pursed her lips. “I think her real name is Haley Whitefield,” she said quietly. “Her parents died on a vacation when she was six, and she went missing afterward. Mor, it seems like she ducked the system. I think she might have grown up on the streets—”

“I don’t want to know.” It was cold and clipped. Mor felt his faeborn soul begin to tear apart. He could not imagine Violet in that situation—not right now. Maybe not ever. He handed the folder back to the human beside him.

Lily chewed on her lip. “Yeah. Okay.”

Mor pulled out his phone and smashed several buttons. He listened to it ring until he heard Greyson’s voice. “Hello?”

“Greyson, I need you to drive Cress, Shayne, and Dranian around the city to look for my human. It’s an emergency. They’ll be at my cathedral by now, wondering where I am,” Mor said.

“You wantmeto drive them? Why?” Greyson asked.

“Because Shayne drives too recklessly, Dranian can’t drive with one arm, and Cress drives too slow,” Mor stated.

“Ah, you’re doing thesafety-firstthing. Cool,” Greyson said. “Consider it done, bro.”

Mor hung up. After a moment, he turned back to Lily. “What does ‘safety-first’ mean?” he asked.

Lily sighed. “Don’t worry about it,” she said as she steered the vessel toward the park.

Mor was quiet for several seconds. Then he said, “When have my brothers or I ever done anythingsafety-first?”

The city streets were filled with blue and crimson flashing torches late into the evening. Lily’s allies scouted the streets for the search. Mor imagined the most horrible scenarios, tormenting himself every moment of the night and into the morning. He didn’t eat—unable to swallow food while he imagined Violet starving somewhere. He paced through the empty cathedral, tearing his hair out as he watched the photos of Violet, Jase, and Remi fill the TV on the late-night news. Violet was famous—again. He hated himself for it.

He called Shayne the following afternoon. “Forget the hunt for Violet. Find Luc if he’s still here,” he told his brothers. “Find him, Shayne. He’s the only faeborn soul who knows where Violet is.”

“We’ve already started looking for him. We’ve looked everywhere and there are no traces of the fox. I think he’s long gone.” Shayne didn’t sound like himself.

Mor sat in silence in front of the fireplace after that. Violet’s journal rested on the footstool before one of the chairs. He dragged it to himself and slowly flipped it open to read. He read thoughts and stories she’d written about him. The way she wrote in her journal was the same way she wrote articles; with flowery words and embellished sentences.

Mor was beside himself when he finally got the call in the middle of the night that Violet had been found.

His body was a broken mess when he climbed from Lily’s vessel to a scene where yellow banners hung throughout the trees, blocking snoopy humans from entering the forest. He, Lily, and Connor marched through the wooded area. Mor’s insides groaned, his mind screamed, his faeborn blood ran hot.

A forest. Luc had left her to wake up in a forest—again. Of all places. He should have known.

He broke into a run when he saw Violet. She stood in place, not moving a muscle even as human officers tried to coax her to follow them. Her body trembled from the cold and exhaustion. Her hair was damp from evening dew and sweat. Mor slowed as he realized…