"My lady. My lady, I just saw Lady Ayla."

Brenna looked up from the mending in her lap. Astrid stood in the doorway, flushed to the roots of her hair, her fingers twisting the hem of her apron.

"Astrid." she set the needle down. "I have told you time without number to stop hallucinating..."

"Oh, I wish it were a hallucination." Astrid’s voice cracked. "I went over to the room prepared for the rogue king’s visiting party, to drop off their meal as I was instructed, and there she was."

Brenna pushed herself to her feet so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor. The dress she had been mending slipped forgotten to the ground.

"Astrid, if you think this is a joke..."

"It is no joke, my lady." The girl’s eyes shone with desperate sincerity. "I swear it on my mother’s grave."

"Show me."

"I...I cannot." Astrid muttered. "I was asked to leave."

"By whom?"

"The woman with her." The girl swallowed. "She was very strange, my lady. Scary. Her eyes..."

"I am way scarier than she will ever be."

Brenna was already moving. She gathered her skirts in one fist and strode toward the door, her pulse hammering in her throat.

"And if she has my daughter, then I have every right to see her. Now take me there this instant."

Astrid hurried after her.

They reached the guest wing.

"Here," Astrid said, stopping before a door. "This is the room."

Brenna knocked but there was no response.

She knocked again, harder this time but still nothing.

"You are sure she is in there?"

"As far as I can tell, my lady. She was sitting right there, by the window."

Brenna tried the lock. The door swung open, unlocked. She cast a confused look toward Astrid before she stepped into the room. A tray of uneaten food sat on the table but asides that, there was no one inside.

"Where is she?" She whirled on Astrid. "You said she was here. Where is she?"

"She was, my lady. She was just here with the woman..."

"How dare you." Brenna’s voice shook. "How dare you concoct such stupid lies..."

"What is going on here?" A voice came from the doorway.

Brenna turned to see a woman standing there. She assumed it was the woman Astrid had spoken about, the woman with scary eyes.

A chill licked up Brenna’s spine.

"Who the hell are you?" the woman demanded.

Astrid pressed close to Brenna’s shoulder. "That is her, my lady. The woman who was with Lady Ayla."

The woman ignored her, brushing past her. Her gaze swept over the empty bed and room, her eyes widened in alarm as she swore under her breath. She turned on her heel and left the room in a hurry.

"Wait!" Brenna pursued her into the corridor. "I am not finished with you! Where is she? What have you done with my daughter?"

...

The meeting had run long and Ares had smiled until his jaw ached. He had sat there listening to Lucius’ smooth voice talk about peace between both their packs while every instinct in Ares screamed at him to tear the man’s head from his shoulders

Ares turned the corner, heading to his quarters when he collided with a figure.

His arms came up on instinct, catching the body before it could fall. His hands closed around warm shoulders and a soft breath of surprise escaped the person he had caught.

"I am sorry," the person said. "I did not see you there."

Ares froze. The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet.

He knew that voice. He had heard it in his dreams every night for weeks.

He looked down just as Ayla looked up at him and it was as though time suspended itself and then fell away, leaving just the two of them, drinking each other in. His heart slammed once against his ribs so hard it hurt. He stared at her face as though he were afraid she would disappear if he blinked. Every nerve in his body leaned toward her and he could not bring himself to speak.

Goddess.

He had imagined this moment so many times. He had imagined finding her, holding her but not this... not Ayla looking at him with complete confusion.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Ares opened his mouth and closed it. Her name sat on his tongue, but he could not say it, because saying it might break whatever this was.

"Ayla,..." a voice broke the moment.

Ares looked up to see a woman in white, walking straight at them. Behind her in hot pursuit was Brenna and Astrid.

The woman in his arms went rigid.

He felt it the sudden tension in her and he felt the instinct in her to break free and run.

Ares moved without thinking, tucking Ayla behind him with one arm shielding her. He felt her press herself to his back, her fingers finding his sleeve.

He felt his heart soar in his chest at that tiny gesture of trust from her. She had no idea who he was and yet, when frightened, she had hidden behind him.

He wanted to turn around and look at her, tell her she was safe and that he had nearly died at the thought of losing her but he instead, waited as the woman approached, stopping just few paces away.

The woman in white stopped a few paces away from him.

"My lord." she inclined her head in a bow. "I was just..."

"You were just what?" Ares asked pleasantly.

Her pupil-less eyes narrowed at him.

"I was looking for Lady Ayla..."

"Who?" Ares asked.

The question was deliberately stupid and he watched the woman’s eyes narrow further. She glanced past his shoulder, at the figure hidden behind him, and Ares felt Ayla’s fingers tighten on his sleeve.

His jaw clenched.

If she took one more step forward, he would have no choice but to stop her.

"Ah." Ares smiled, all gracious host, all innocence. "She is not who you are seeking."

The silence stretched, between them. The woman stared at him, and Ares held her gaze and did not blink.

He could see the anger beginning to build behind those strange eyes but he could also see the hesitation.

She knew who he was for sure and she knew she could do nothing to him, at least not in his own pack.

"I am pretty sure..." she began.

"You may leave," Ares cut her off, still pleasant. "Return to your quarters. We cannot have you running around the palace. It is dangerous, considering where you are."

His words were courteous but his meaning was not.

The woman’s jaw tightened and for one long moment, neither moved. He could feel the fury from the woman like a whip across his skin.

She glanced behind him again then back at him before she bowed, stiff as a rod, turned around and walked away.

Brenna’s chest heaved as she watched the woman leave before she turned to Ares.

"My lord..." she began, looking over his shoulder.

Ayla peeked out from behind Ares’ back, craning her neck to watch the corridor, to make sure the woman in white was truly gone.

Ares turned toward her.

"Hi," he grinned.

If Ayla could not remember who he was...

Then he would simply make her remember.

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