Chapter 20 - Articus

The cold mountain wind whipped through the yard as Articus walked Fannar to his car, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Fannar’s icy gray eyes, nearly as pale as the snow-dusted landscape behind him, lingered on Articus with a subtle flicker of concern before he extended a firm handshake.

"Remember, Articus," Fannar said, his voice as cold and clear as a mountain stream, "Logic must prevail over emotion. It's the only way to ensure the best outcome for all involved."

Articus nodded, his jaw tight. "I understand. Thank you for your counsel, Fannar."

The Frost Peaks Alpha regarded him with those icy gray eyes. "You're welcome. And Articus... tread carefully."

With that cryptic warning, Fannar slid into his car, the engine purring to life. Articus watched as the vehicle disappeared down the winding driveway, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His mind immediately drifted back to Wren.

What am I doing?

The question echoed in his mind as he turned back toward the mansion.

Am I making the right decision?

His feet carried him along the familiar path, but his mind was miles away. The weight of leadership had never felt heavier on his shoulders. He'd always prided himself on being a fair and just Alpha, on making decisions that benefited his pack as a whole. But now, faced with this impossible situation, he felt lost.

I can't keep her trapped in a life she doesn't want.

His heart ached at the idea of letting Wren go. Images of Wren flashed through his mind—her smile, the fire in her eyes when she challenged him, the softness in her touch. In such a short time, she'd become an integral part of his life, filling a void he hadn't even realized was there.

It would tear him apart, but he’d do it—because he cared more about her happiness than his own desires.

He had always prided himself on his ability to stay in control, but with Wren, that control slipped more often than he liked. Every instinct told him to keep her close, to protect her, but another part of him, the part that cared for her beyond the bond, wanted to give her the freedom he felt she craved.

Maybe I'm being selfish.

He ran a hand through his white hair. Even as the thought formed, he knew it wasn't true. His feelings for Wren went beyond mere attraction or possession. There was a connection there, something deep and profound that he couldn't explain.

As he approached the mansion, Articus made a decision. He would talk to Wren openly and honestly. No more dancing around the issue, no more half-truths and assumptions. They would lay everything out on the table and figure out a way forward together.

And If she wants to leave, I'll let her go.

He steeled himself against the pain the idea caused, but Articus was now sure that this was the right thing to do.

With renewed determination, Articus pushed open the door, stepping inside the warmth of the mansion. The familiar scents of home washed over him, but something felt off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but an uneasy feeling settled in his gut.

"Wren?" he called out, his voice echoing in the quiet hallway.

No answer.

He walked briskly toward the kitchen, half expecting to find her there. But the room was empty, no sign of Wren's usual morning routine.

She's probably still asleep.

Frowning, Articus made his way upstairs to the bedroom. The tightness in his chest grew as he took the steps two at a time. The bedroom door creaked open under his hand, revealing a perfectly made bed, the faint scent of her lavender shampoo still hanging in the air. But no Wren.

"Wren?" he called again, louder this time. The silence that answered him was deafening.

Where are you?

His pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding curling around his thoughts. Panic began to rise in his chest, but he pushed it down.

Stay calm. There has to be an explanation.

He strode back downstairs, his heightened senses alert for any sign of Wren. That's when he spotted Edward, the butler, emerging from the study.

"Edward," Articus said, trying to keep his voice level, "have you seen Wren?"

Edward straightened, his expression serious. "No, Sir. The last time I saw her was earlier this morning."

Articus’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information. Before he could respond, Martha, the housekeeper, appeared from the direction of the laundry room. Her usually cheerful face was creased with worry.

"Mr. Articus," she said, wringing her hands. "I was just about to come find you. I can't find Miss Wren anywhere. And, and..." she hesitated, glancing at Edward.

"And what, Martha?" Articus prompted, dread settling in his stomach.

"Well, Sir, I found something in Miss Wren's bathroom. I wasn't snooping, I swear, I was just tidying up and..." Martha reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small plastic stick.

Articus's world tilted on its axis as he recognized the pregnancy test. Two pink lines stared back at him, unmistakable in their meaning.

Pregnant. Wren is pregnant.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through him—shock, joy, fear, guilt. His mind raced, trying to process this new information. A child. Their child. A tiny life created from their love, growing inside Wren.

I’m going to be a father.

And she… she’s been dealing with this alone.

Oh, Wren.

The thought of her running away, possibly in a fragile state, ignited a surge of protective rage deep within him. Articus’s hands clenched into fists as he straightened, his gaze hardening.

Did you think I wouldn’t want the baby?

Wren had run away. She was out there somewhere, alone and pregnant, thinking he didn't want her. And their child.

How could I have been so blind?

Articus's Alpha instincts roared to life, demanding action. He had to find her, had to bring her home, had to make this right.

"Edward," he barked, his voice carrying the undeniable authority of an Alpha. "Call the pack leaders. I want search parties organized immediately."

As Edward hurried to obey, Articus turned to Martha. "Check her room. See if anything's missing, if there's any clue as to where she might have gone."

Martha nodded, her eyes wide with concern, and hurried upstairs.

Articus pulled out his phone, his fingers shaking slightly as he dialed Cassius's number. His cousin picked up on the second ring.

"Art? What's wrong?" Cassius's voice was instantly alert.

"Wren's gone," Articus said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "She ran away. And Cass... she's pregnant."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Shit, Art. Okay, we need to think this through. Where would she go?"

Articus ran a hand through his hair, frustration building. "I don't know. She doesn't know anyone here, doesn't have anywhere to go. What if... Cass, what if the slavers got her?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Cassius said, but Articus could hear the worry in his voice. "But we can't rule it out. You know how they operate—they're not just wolves. Other species are working for them, making it easier for them to cross the territories. And when she gets too far from her owner, in his case, you, that makes it easy for them to snatch her again."

"I don't care about territories," Articus growled, his wolf pushing close to the surface. "If they have her, I'll tear them apart. If they’ve hurt her or the child she carries—"

"Art, listen to me," Cassius interrupted, his voice stern. "I know you're worried, but you can't just go in fists flying. You're an Alpha. Your actions have consequences beyond just you."

Articus took a deep breath, forcing himself to think rationally. Cassius was right. As much as he wanted to unleash his full power, to let his wolf run free and hunt down anyone who dared touch Wren, he couldn't. The political landscape was too delicate, the potential for all-out war too high.

"You're right," he admitted grudgingly. "But Cass, I can't just sit here and do nothing. She's out there, alone and scared, carrying my child."

"I know, Art. And we'll find her. But we need to be smart about this. If the slavers do have her, they know you're rich. They're more likely to try and ransom her than harm her."

"'More likely'?" Articus repeated, his voice dropping into a cold growl. The mere suggestion that there was even a chance she could be harmed sent a wave of fury through him.

“You can’t storm in there like a wild animal. The slavers operate with more than just wolves. There are vampires, werebears—creatures who don’t follow the same rules we do," Cassius said, his voice firm but calm. "If you start a fight, you risk starting a war that will spill innocent blood. Right now, their goal is to profit, not to cause chaos. You need to stay focused.”

Articus closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. He knew Cassius was right, but every instinct screamed at him to tear apart anyone who even thought of harming Wren.

His vision blurred with red as his wolf snarled for release, demanding blood. But he forced the rage back, clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palms. He couldn’t afford to lose control now.

"I know," Articus ground out, sighing. "I know. Just... tell me what to do, Cass."

"Get here as fast as you can," Cassius said. "We'll coordinate the search from my territory. I've got contacts on this side of the mountain who might be able to help."

"I'm on my way," Articus said, already moving toward the door. "And Cass? Thank you."

As he ended the call, Articus felt a strange mix of emotions. The Alpha in him chafed at the constraints, at the need for caution and diplomacy. But the leader in him understood the necessity.

He stared at the phone in his hand, his mind racing. He had the power to crush anyone in his way, but he needed to use that power wisely, not recklessly. The stakes were too high—Wren’s life, their child’s life.

He called Rowan next, followed by the other Alphas. “I need all of you ready; Wren is gone, most likely taken back by the slavers,” he said.

“I am going to Cassius, and we’re going to do this peacefully, giving them money. But make no mistake, if they force my hand, there will be no mercy.”

Each call ended with swift agreements. Articus knew his allies were already mobilizing resources, tracking leads, and preparing for the worst-case scenario. Yet beneath the calculated exterior, there was a storm brewing inside him. He would burn the world down if it meant getting Wren back.

He may be limited in how he could act, but that didn't make him weak. He was the Alpha of the White Moon pack. Leading with both strength and strategy was what made him feared and respected. But right now, all he wanted was to get her back—safe and unharmed.

As he finished his calls, Articus called out to Edward, his expression unreadable beneath the storm brewing inside him. He knew time was ticking, but he needed to ensure all avenues were covered.

"Edward," he began, his voice cold and authoritative, "there’s a strong possibility the slavers have taken Wren again. I’m heading to Cassius’s side of the mountain to follow that lead."

Edward’s eyes widened slightly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But Articus wasn’t finished.

"Even so," he continued, "have a search party to comb through every inch of our side of the territory. Focus on the woods, any trails, or places she might have gotten lost if she ran without a clear direction. Check with anyone who may have seen something out of the ordinary. I don’t believe she’s just lost, but we can’t afford to overlook any possibility."

Edward straightened even further, a determined look settling on his features. "Understood, Sir. I’ll coordinate with the patrol teams immediately."

Articus gave a curt nod. "Good. If there’s even the slightest sign of her nearby, I want to know immediately. But if there’s nothing—no scent, no trace—then we focus on the slavers. But I want every lead followed."

Edward met his gaze squarely. "We won’t rest until she’s found, Sir."

With that reassurance, Articus turned on his heel, heading toward the door. He didn’t believe Wren was simply lost in the woods. The logical part of him knew she’d likely been taken, but he wouldn’t leave anything to chance. Wren’s safety and that of their child demanded thoroughness.

As he strode out to his car, Articus felt a cold fury settling over him. It wasn't the hot rage of his wolf but something colder, more calculated. He would play by the rules of the Dark Side, for now. But if anyone had hurt Wren or their unborn child, there would be no place on earth they could hide from his wrath.

Hold on, Wren.

Steeling himself, Articus climbed into his car, the engine roaring to life. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the what-ifs or the fears gnawing at him. There was no room for doubt—only action.

I'm coming for you. And this time, I'm not letting you go.

One thing was certain—Articus would move heaven and earth to bring Wren home. And when he did, he would make sure she never doubted his love again.

As the mansion faded in his rearview mirror, Articus felt extraordinary focus on the task at hand. The road ahead stretched out before him, a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. But Articus was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Wren, for their child, for the future he now realized he desperately wanted, he would move mountains if he had to.

As he sped toward the helipad, Articus's mind raced with plans and strategies. He would use every connection, call in every favor, and unleash the full might of his influence to find Wren. And when he did, he would make damn sure she understood just how much she meant to him.

If the slavers had taken Wren once more, he was ready to unleash hell if it came to that, but he also knew when to hold back, to play the long game. However, if a hair on her head was harmed or if anything happened to his child.

Damn the consequences, damn the potential of war, and damn my position.

Articus pressed down on the accelerator. A cold fury settled over him, mingled with a grim determination. The hunt was on, and he would not rest until Wren was safe in his arms once more.

A storm was coming, and Articus was at its center.