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Lodan ran his finger along the map, tracing the route of the road north of Argos. “You’re certain they said they’re going north?” He and Xander sat with Leader Ambrose around a gilded table in Leader Ambrose’s palace of a home. Paintings and sculptures stuffed every square inch of the place, and it looked like a gold mine threw up, not just on the table they sat at, but on the walls, the painting frames, and the chairs.

“They said they were going to the fortress up north near the Dorian mountains.”

“We have no Sardi fortress on our maps.”

Ambrose waved his hand. “It’s old, and it wasn’t built by the Sardi. It comes from the time when Anatolia was new.” He gestured toward a sculpture in the corner made from light stone. Not pristine or shiny, it had caught Lodan’s eye first when he entered the room. The head was missing, but it was clear the sculpture was of a winged messenger, and even from across the room, he could see the skill in detailing the feathers, and the tunic the figure wore looked like it truly rippled in the breeze. “This entire area is built around old ruins. We find some old stuff sometimes when we dig new homes. Usually, I sell them to the Dorians, but this one I kept.”

Lodan glanced at Xander. “You trade with the Dorians?”

Leader Ambrose shrugged. “We see them from time to time, and we learned they love antiquities. They pay in true Dorian gold.”

That explained the room, then, yet this was the first he’d ever heard of the Dorians mingling with southern Anatolia.

Another pang twisted in his chest, and he rubbed it. For the past hour, something felt off , and it wasn’t only this sad sack of a city leader and his lies. His chest hurt, and he kept tensing up in expectation of a fight, yet he sat in a meeting with an elder statesman, without a reason to believe a threat was present. He hadn’t even worn his armor because he wanted Argos to know they came in peace—well, peace as long as they weren’t helping the Sardi.

“Do the Dorians meet with the Sardi?”

During their entire conversation, Ambrose’s eyes would dart away. They did so again. He was either withholding information or lying outright. “I’m not sure.”

Damn.

If the Dorians decided to enter this war to aid the Sardi, there could be years of fighting still ahead of them. “Can you set up a meeting with me and their leader?”

Ambrose pushed back from the table and paced over to the window. “We’ve survived this war by staying out of it. Some of my people did choose to fight, on one side or the other, but I worked hard to keep the wolves from sacking our beautiful city.”

Xander slammed his palm on the table, making Lodan’s untouched tankard of wine wobble. “You mean you’re lurking on the fringes, waiting to see who will win Anatolia.”

Lodan caught his eye and shook his head a fraction. A power play wasn’t the right way to manipulate this leader. A little flattery and this man would give them what they wanted.

“No, he put his people first, like a good leader does,” Lodan said. Or a selfish one who didn’t want his hoard of gold looted and taken.

Ambrose twisted around, his brows shooting up. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Your people are the people of philosophy. Intelligence. Think this through. The Sardi are currently on the run, and Anatolia belongs to me. I will win whether I meet with the Dorians or not. When I do, I’ll be poised to give those who helped me whatever they want.”

Ambrose’s expression turned shrewd. “And if I ask for something now?”

“What do you want?”

“The Sardi princess.”

Shooting to his feet, Lodan’s hands tightened into fists. “You want the princess?” The thought of someone else near Kassandra made him want to rip this statesman in two.

“I scented her, and she isn’t bonded to you.” Ambrose leaned against the windowsill. “She was supposed to be my bride before the war. I’m no longer interested in making her my bride, since she’s obviously had many lovers now. But I could take a new concubine.”

“You scented her?” He turned to Xander. “When?”

Xander stood. “I brought the Omega into town, like you ordered. The people appreciated seeing how the Sardi are no longer in charge.”

“It was a nice touch,” Ambrose said. “It was delightful seeing a Sardi princess tied up and humiliated. Quite a pretty picture.”

Whooshing filled his ears. It had been his intention to take her from town to town and parade her exactly like Ambrose described, but that was before he knew Kassandra and the thought was impossible now. He wouldn’t torment her like that.

He whirled on Xander. “I didn’t tell you to bring her into town.”

“Yes, you did.” Xander’s brow furrowed. “I asked if your plans for Argos were the same, and you said yes. You said the Sardi would go to Argos, too.”

He vaguely remembered talking to Xander last night, but he hadn’t said to march her through town. “My plans changed.”

A whiff of Alpha lust plumed in the room. “Yes, a very pretty picture.”

This Argos nobleman dared lust after Kassandra?

Charging across the room, Lodan snatched the ancient sculpture from its pedestal and threw it as hard as he could. It smashed into the stone wall, breaking into hundreds of pieces.

Eyes wide, Ambrose shrank back.

“Where is Kassandra now?” Something vicious clawed inside him. “I need to see her. Now.” He stalked to a sculpture crafted entirely in gold and lifted it. Ambrose let out a small cry.

“Send a message to the Dorians, or one by one, I will destroy every single thing in your palace and take this gold and melt it for weapons for my army.”

He barely waited for Ambrose to nod before tossing the sculpture to the ground and striding out of the room. Xander caught up with him at the front door. “What’s wrong?”

“Kassandra is not a prized animal to be paraded around and gawked at.”

Xander scoffed. “What do you want to do, then? Tell Anatolia you took a Sardi as a mate? Make her your queen? Another Sardi in power won’t go over well. It’s against everything we’ve fought for.”

His step hitched. “Let me figure that out. You make sure Ambrose sends a message to the Dorians and find out how he aided the Sardi.”

He stormed into the Myrdinian camp shouting, “Kassandra!” An unfamiliar feeling pounded in his chest, icy cold and fluttery. Even in his worst battles, the ones he wasn’t sure he’d win, he’d never felt this way.

Panic. It was panic.

Outside her tent, Greta leaned on Cian’s arm. “Ah, here he is,” Greta said, sneering. “The mighty Alpha. The savior of Anatolia.”

“Where’s Kassandra?”

“I gave her a sleeping draught about an hour ago. She’s asleep in my tent.”

He quickened his pace. He needed to go to her. To hold her and make sure she was all right. To be there when she woke up so he could fix this. He needed to fix this.

The Beta and the Omega moved to block the entrance. “No,” Cian said. “You don’t get to see her. Not anymore.”

“Get out of the way.”

“If your goal was to truly make her hate you, good job, you succeeded.”

Xander growled behind him. “Cian …” His voice held a hint of warning.

The Omega’s eyes blazed. “And you.” He wheeled on Xander. “If your goal was to make it so that I’ll never want to sleep in your bed again, you’ve succeeded. The pair of you are disgusting. Parading a person around to serve your own agenda.”

Xander let out a hollow laugh. “Come on, all this outrage for a Sardi? Stop it, Cian. You saw what happened in the town square. People are rejoicing at finally being free.”

“Oh yes, I saw what happened,” Cian sneered at the Alpha warrior.

Rage surged through Lodan but it wasn’t Cian he was angry at. He should have realized what he was feeling in his chest. Bonded Alphas could sense what their mate was feeling, and even unbonded pairs could sense each other if strong emotions were involved. He’d sensed something was wrong.

Xander put his hand on his sword and glared. “We’re Alphas, we can tear the tent apart.”

“If that happens, I’m gone,” Greta said.

Cian nodded. “Me, too.”

Lodan rubbed his face. “It was a mistake. Kassandra wasn’t supposed to be taken into town.” He glared at Xander. “No one will be tearing down the tent.”

Cian crossed his arms, his expression still wary.

“Let me see her. If she’s asleep, I won’t wake her.” His hands fisted. “But I need to see her. I need to—” The iciness in his chest surged again. How was he supposed to explain his need to physically see her and make sure she was all right? That he needed to hold her, otherwise he might go mad?

Greta released Cian’s arm and hobbled forward. She studied him closely through narrowed eyes. Her brows rose, and her expression softened. “Interesting. Very interesting.” She turned back to Cian. “Since he asked, the least we can do is let him see her.”

Cian didn’t answer but stepped to the side, opening the path to the tent entrance. Lodan bounded forward. He tore open the flap and scanned the room.

A crumpled blanket lay next to a mattress on the floor. Greta’s bed was also empty, the blankets pristine and tucked in.

Kassandra was gone.