Lennox's POV
My brothers and I impatiently tapped our feet against the wooden floor as we waited for the seer to finish with her incantation. When we came last night, she told us she couldn't see anything, that we should return today.
None of us had slept last night.
We tried.
But how could we?
Our Olivia was missing, taken by someone who had the resources and guts to breach pack territory, disable our surveillance, and vanish into the night—possibly in a damn helicopter.
Even my wolf had been pacing and growling inside me nonstop.
We hadn't bathed, hadn't changed clothes. The same clothes we wore when we jumped out of bed in a panic still clung to us, wrinkled and damp with sweat. None of that mattered now.
What mattered was finding her.
The seer sat cross-legged on a mat in front of us, muttering ancient incantations, her eyes glowing faintly with power. The small hut we were in smelled of herbs, smoke, and old magic. Time seemed to stretch painfully slow.
