Page 61 of Unveiled

Then Connor shifted back to human.

Connor’s spine arched as the last of it snapped into place, breath tearing from his throat in a harsh exhale. The cold air hit his bare skin like a slap, and the cut on his flank burned as it met the open air.

He didn’t make a sound. He stood there, once again naked in the clearing, breath steaming, blood running in thin lines down his side, and looked down at Garrett, whose eyes were still more wolf than man.

Around them, the pack held its silence. He felt their attention and awe like a weight. All of them watching to see what kind of King he was when he had a man at his mercy.

Connor’s jaw clenched. He turned away. Not because he couldn’t look at Garrett, but to drive home the point: he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of believing Connor enjoyed this.

“Get up,” Connor said, his voice rough and pitched low. “Dress. And remember what you learnt.”

Garrett didn’t answer. He lay panting, mud on his back, his throat bruised, and clearly, his pride was in pieces.

Connor dressed, then stepped toward Adrian, every movement deliberate. The wound on his flank throbbed, but he ignored it. Pain was familiar. It was the other thing—the faint, insistent tug under his ribs, the bond’s quiet hum—that Connor couldn’t ignore.

Even now, even with blood on his skin and dominance still vibrating through his nerves, he could feel it like a thread drawn tight in the dark.

And Connor hated the way some part of him wanted Adrian to understand Connor hadn’t done this for pride. He’d done it for the pack. Both of their packs. For the fragile, dangerous unity they were going to need when the Veils finally tore wide enough for the Council to step through.

Piper ran up to them, her face pale. She held the edges of her shawl in white-knuckled fists. “Adrian. Something’s happened. Xiathen called,” she said, her voice cracking. “Irial is missing from the village.”

Chapter Sixteen

Connor

Connor’s stomach flipped at Piper’s words.

“Missing?” Adrian repeated. “Where was she last seen?”

“In her home this afternoon. Her friend Rhena was supposed to have dinner with her tonight, but Irial wasn’t there. The meal was prepared but not cooked.” Piper swallowed hard. “No sign of her. No note. Nothing. No one’s seen her since earlier.”

Connor stared at Adrian as Max approached behind him, his posture taut.

“Have they searched the village?” Adrian asked Piper.

She hesitated. “Not thoroughly. People are afraid of going out in the dark, and besides, they won’t see much.”

“We’ll search,” Connor said. “We can shift and see more.”

Adrian nodded. “Together.”

Their gazes met again. Steady this time, purpose-sharpened.

“Fraser,” Connor called. “Take Max and get to the village. Sweep the northern end. Check the homes, the valleys, the riverbank. Carefully.”

Fraser inclined his head. “Right you are. Come on, Max.”

Connor turned to Piper. “Stay here. If you hear anything, call me.” She nodded shakily.

***

Fifteen minutes later they arrived at Glengáill. The village was quiet with few people around. Let’s hope they’re all out trying to find Irial, Connor thought grimly.

Adrian stepped beside him. “Where do we start?”

Connor swallowed the instinctive flare of warmth at the word we. “The southern edge. The Dry Pig area.”

Adrian lifted his chin, determination glinting in his eyes. “Lead the way.”