CHAPTER 12: Gone

  Eli fussed and cried, the sound seeping into Ares’s sleep. He stirred, caught between dreams and waking, convinced for a moment that he was imagining it. Then the crying sharpened, real and insistent, and he sat up with a quiet groan, eyes heavy as he rubbed the sleep from them.

  It was his night to care for Eli—one he never minded. Jade and he had developed a system, watching over the child together, moving with the practiced ease of co-parents. Jade took most nights, even when he protested, insisting they even things out for her sake.

  Still, Ares found himself imagining what it would be like if this arrangement were permanent.

  Once his plan with Jade was finished—once Archibald was dealt with—they could be more than this fragile imitation of a family. He liked the role he played now, the weight of it settling comfortably on his shoulders, and the thought that the title of father might not be so far out of reach no longer felt like fantasy. It felt… inevitable.

  Outside, darkness pressed against the windows. The old grandfather clock across the room ticked on, its hands resting just past two a.m. Ares exhaled sharply when he realized he’d only been asleep for forty-five minutes.

  He’d been dreaming of Jade again. Of her finally seeing him—not as a convenience, not as a second choice, but as the one standing beside her. What was the point of sleep when his dreams felt closer to reality than his waking hours? When they lingered, warm and convincing, even after he opened his eyes.

  He replayed the memory of kissing her over and over in his mind, her beautiful face lighting up when she was with him. It was a look he hadn’t seen since before the dragon raid, and the absence of it felt wrong. Unnatural. Something that needed correcting.

  With a lazy flick of his hand, candles bloomed to life, their flames rising as though they had been waiting. Soft light spilled across the room, stretching shadows along the walls as Ares approached the crib, the crying baby finally coming into view.

  “Hey now, big guy,” Ares whispered, brushing his fingers over the crown of Eli’s head. It was something he did often—something that usually worked, coaxing the baby back toward sleep.

  Tonight, it didn’t.

  Eli’s fussing tipped into a full cry. Ares murmured softly as he lifted him, settling the baby against his shoulder. He rocked and bobbed in slow, practiced motions, hoping that would be enough. Eli had been sleeping through the night lately; Ares couldn’t place what had stirred him now.

  The crying didn’t ease.

  After a moment, Ares checked his diaper. It was clean. He changed it anyway. Then, with a flick of magic, he conjured a warm bottle of milk and offered it patiently.

  Nothing.

  Failure prickled beneath his skin. Everything was failing.

  “Eli,” Ares cooed, the edge of frustration slipping into his voice despite himself. “What’s going on, huh?”

  Eli only wailed louder.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Ares sifted through everything he knew—every remedy, every trick for an uncomfortable baby—until a single thought rose above the rest.

  Jade.

  Maybe he just needed her.

  He glanced at the clock again and clicked his tongue at the early hour. She might not mind the interruption. She rarely did. And maybe—just maybe—she wouldn’t mind Ares staying, either.

  Eli rubbed his tired face into Ares’s shoulder, crying even as a yawn tugged free. Ares exhaled slowly.

  “Alright,” he murmured. “We’ll go see Mom, okay?”

  He reached into the crib and grabbed the small lovey Eli usually favored, pressing it into his hands. In a sudden fit of rage, Eli flung it to the floor.

  Ares paused, watching it land.

  “…Okay,” he said softly. “No lovey, then.”

  He yawned, waved his hand to snuff out the candles, and turned toward the door.

  Ares knocked on Princess Jade’s chamber door, his heart pattering at the mere thought of seeing her again. Eli continued to whimper in his arms, exhausted but stubborn enough to hold on until they reached her room.

  He waited a few moments.

  No answer.

  His brow creased, and he knocked again—this time a little harder. Another pause followed. Perhaps she was getting dressed.

  Nothing.

  Ares bit his lip, debating whether to be forward and open the door without permission. Maybe she was sleeping too deeply to hear him. Or maybe she’d gone to the library.

  Eli cried again, the sound grating against Ares’s growing frustration. Acting on impulse, he reached for the handle.

  It turned.

  That surprised him. She usually locked it at night.

  He eased the door open, peering into the darkened room.

  “Jade?” he whispered.

  Silence.

  Moonlight spilled through one of the tall windows, illuminating her bed at the far end of the chamber. A lump rested beneath the covers, unmistakably shaped like a sleeping figure. Relief loosened something in his chest.

  He slipped inside and closed the door softly behind him, careful not to startle her.

  Moving quietly, he crossed the room and reached out, gently shaking her shoulder. “Jade,” he murmured. “Eli won’t go back to sleep, can we stay with you?”

  When he tugged at the comforter she appeared to be curled beneath, it sank.

  And kept sinking.

  The fabric collapsed until his hand met the mattress.

  “Jade?” Ares said, confusion sharpening into alarm as he yanked the covers back, sending them sprawling across the bed.

  Only pillows stared back at him.

  “What—” His breath came quick now, heart pounding hard against his ribs.

  Where was she? Why the ruse—why make it look like someone was sleeping there?

  The questions barely had time to form before the answer struck him with sickening clarity.

  She’d run.

  “No,” Ares breathed.

  Eli whimpered, crying again, the sound grounding him back in the room. “I know,” Ares said softly, more to himself than the child. “I’m looking for her.”

  His gaze swept the chamber, searching for signs of escape—an open window, disturbed curtains, anything. A tracking spell came to mind, and he swirled his free hand, and muttered and incantation under his breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to refocus.

  Pain flared at his temple, and he winced. Footprints shimmered into view, but only a handful—too few to track. A dead end. Unease crept in as Ares realized the spell hadn’t worked as it should have.

  Ares managed to summon Eli’s wet nurse, hoping that would be enough to calm him. Thankfully, it was. Eli latched and fell asleep almost instantly. Relief washed over Ares—because he wasn’t sure what else he could have done. He did his best not to cast too many sleeping spells in fear Eli would rely on it. Jade had been his last resort. Without her, he would have been lost himself.

  He moved quickly through the castle, checking the library, the kitchens, the gardens, the meadow.

  Nothing.

  She was nowhere.

  Ares fought the urge to panic, clinging to the hope that she wouldn’t be desperate enough to flee the kingdom entirely.

  But could he truly blame her if she had?

  She’d seemed happy—or as happy as she could be—the last time they spoke. It had been after dinner, in the library. He’d read her fairy tales by the fire while she braided his hair, her fingers gentle and absentminded.

  So if she had left… why hadn’t she told him?

  His next stop was Damien’s home. He didn’t want to ask for his help, but he was out of options. Madeline wasn’t in the maids’ quarters, nor any of her usual haunts.

  And he didn’t dare wake the King and Queen—not yet.

  Not if he was simply overreacting.