Scene: Blackwood Citadel – Command Hallway, East Wing
POV: Amara
No sleep.
No breath.
No certainty.
The castle felt wrong.
As if the walls themselves were grieving.
As if every marble column and silver-plated crest of the Blackwood Empire held its breath… waiting.
> "Status update!" I snapped, storming through the corridor, surrounded by aides and B.A.M. intelligence officers.
Everyone scrambled.
None had answers.
Only possibilities.
Only theories.
Only guesses—and I don't rule through guesses.
> "Your Majesty, thermal data picked up a possible signal in the ridge—"
> "Possible?" I cut her off. "Do you think I want maybes right now?! I sent my king into a world that bowed beneath him, and you're telling me we don't know where he is?"
Silence.
The aide lowered her head.
I could feel rage clawing up my spine like a serpent.
Not just rage at the rebels, or the traitors, or the coward who ordered the hit.
But at myself.
For not being on that plane.
For not protecting him.
For letting Chris Blackwood, the force of the empire, the man who turned my blood to gold, walk into silence.
> "Seal the outer gates," I ordered, spinning on my heel. "No one enters. No one leaves. Not even the council."
> "But the Council of Thirteen—"
> "Will wait."
They obeyed. Of course they did.
But it wasn't enough.
Nothing felt like enough.
---
I reached our private chamber—the royal suite. It was empty.
The silk sheets he left unmade. The coat he'd flung over the edge of the chair. The scent of his cologne still on the collar.
> "Where are you…" I whispered aloud, pacing, heart caged inside my chest.
> "You don't disappear. You don't go quiet. You don't… leave me."
A soft knock.
I didn't respond.
It opened anyway.
Classic.
> "Amara," he said gently, "you need to sit. At least drink somethi—"
> "I don't need water," I snapped. "I need my husband. I need the king of the empire in his throne, not buried under snow, hunted by dogs."
He stayed quiet.
Good.
Because if he said "he'll be fine," I might've burned the entire east wing.
> "Get me the Head of Intelligence," I muttered. "And the Shadow Spy Master. I want to speak to every operative from the Western Isles to the edge of Delvaron. We're not just searching anymore…"
My eyes narrowed, fire alive in my voice.
> "We're hunting."
---