Chasing Freedom

XXXII

Myles sat behind the wheel of his SUV, hit foot heavy on the accelerator. The radio was on, but he didn't hear a single thing, too focused on everything else happening around him. Namely, following the car he was tailing through the mountain roads. In it, was his father. Unlike Myles, he wasn't alone in the car, nor was he driving.

Were this pack land, they would have taken the same car. On Truce lands, they were taking no risks. Leandro wasn't here for that reason, although he'd argued for it. Both Myles and his father—heir and Alpha—venturing out in close proximity was bad enough. Adding the packs Second to that? That wasn't even in question.

Myles and his father accounted for two of the five cars. In the others, were a small army of sentry tagging along for protection. Overkill likely, but given they had no way of knowing what they were walking into, the precaution was necessary.

He felt like he'd been driving for hours, each passing parcel of forest a mirror echoing to the last, when everyone began braking. Myles glanced around, noting they'd reached a clearing of some sort.

Reaching for his phone, he called his father. As it was picked up on the first ring, Myles asked quickly, "What's happening?"

"We found the car."

Frustrated, Myles went to move his car into a better vantage point, but found her was blocked by the others. "And?"

"Arryn is checking it now," said his father. "Hang on."

As his father went silent, Myles heard another voice through the phone. It was Arryn, using the two-way radio. "Everything looks normal, Alpha. Car is locked. No signs of forced entry of vandalism. If it was left behind like this—"

"Don't finish that sentence," cut in his father, his tone broking no argument. "Where does the scent go?"

"Up into the hills, sir. There's a park here. Abandoned long ago, by the looks. Why..." Arryn broke off for a moment. "Alpha, there's a road for the cars to follow. The scent runs parallel, for the most part."

Myles was more than on board with that plan, but he kept silent, waiting for his father to conclude the conversation. As the plan was confirmed and radio connection was cut, Myles' phone pinged with a message and he glanced over. It was Ciaran.

Not far out. Keep me updated.

Found the car. Still following, Myles typed out quickly. The change in location wouldn't be an issue for Ciaran, who had attached a tracking spell to an old hat of Myles' to keep up with them.

"We're heading out," said his father over the phone.

Myles hung up, turning the car engine back on. Waiting for the car in front of him to move, he followed suit.

Half a kilometre after they passed where his car had been abandoned, they came across their trackers. Myles' parked the borrowed SUV by his father's. The clearing was barely big enough for all the cars to fit, but Myles wedged his way in.

Stepping out of his car, he was immediately hit with the scent of death. Blood cloyed like a thick smog in the air. Realising Mira's scent mixed in amongst that, the pit in his stomach grew larger. As the other four cars of sentries found a spot to stop, Myles glanced around, inhaling roughly.

Mira's scent being present didn't mean a thing. Not if the blood he smelt so strongly wasn't hers.

At least, that's what he told himself—

"Cub," came his father's voice. A hand cupped the back of his neck, the pressure enough to return clarity to his wavering vision. "They're not her."

The relief he felt was immeasurable. "Who are they?"