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The healer didn’t want to tell me anything, citing patient confidentiality and all that nonsense. But when I lied and told him I was Lina’s father, he let something slip.

Lina had had an allergic reaction to nuts.

Something I had already known.

But then he’d added another detail.

Lina had an unusual genetic protein marker in her blood. The healer said it wasn’t anything serious, but right now, as Ethan goes on about Moonborne Syndrome, I can’t help but think of the possibility that the little girl has it, too.

“Did Irene have a unique protein marker in her blood?”

I don’t believe in coincidences. And this? This is too fucking big to be one.

“Yes, boss. Actually, Irene’s first allergic reaction to nuts led to the discovery of the protein marker in her blood. That’s when she was diagnosed.”

Shit. The kid has it too.

I push thoughts of Lina away and focus on the records, scanning the dates, matching the timelines.

“The last time she was in the hospital was a few years ago. Look at the date, does it ring a bell? Look at the other records…the people who were admitted on the same day.”

Ethan catches on quickly. Almost immediately, he stiffens. “These…all of them are from the Moonlight pack. Says they were brought in after an attack by a rival pack. Irene must have been here too. It says she disappeared before they could check on her injuries.”

I look at the records again, my conclusion solidifying.

Alpha Chris and his pack were ambushed. They didn’t see it coming and had no time to retaliate. Many lost their lives. The survivors, including Irene, were brought here, to St. Bishop’s Hospital.

Irene escaped that same night. My guess? She was too frazzled to make sense of anything. Witnessing her entire pack nearly wiped out would have done that to her.

Alpha Chris died a few weeks later, imploring the Blackwood Pack’s Alpha to find his missing daughter.

Ethan exhales sharply, rubbing his temple. “I’m sorry, boss. Getting her records, her pack’s records, I thought…I thought we’d find something.”

His voice is tight, frustration laced with guilt. Ethan hates letting me down. He takes failure personally, even when it isn’t his burden to bear.

My wolf isn’t in the least bit disappointed.

Not when his mind keeps drifting back to a little girl dressed in pink, a stubborn glint in her green eyes.

“And we did find something,” I tell him. “There are no records of her death, Ethan. Irene is out there. For all we know, she might be in this city. This is the evidence we need to keep looking.”

Ethan nods, but his disappointment lingers.

“You’re right, boss. I’m gonna take my leave. Thanks for the drink.”

I tip my chin at him as he walks out.

Two minutes later, I’m alone in the living room, Irene’s records in one hand, my glass of scotch in the other.

The alcohol might be getting to my brain, but the connection between Lina and Irene lingers, settling deep in my gut.

Could they be…related?

My wolf hums in satisfaction, as if he already knows the answer.

As if I’m just catching up.

I standby the floor-to-ceiling windows in my office, my eyes skimming over the Phoenix city skyline. The skyscrapers gleam under the morning sun, their glass silhouettes reflecting the golden light.