Chapter 20

The sudden sundering of his bond to Erela stole Desmond's breath.

He ignored Logan's barked, "She's dead."

"No. She's not." He refused to believe it. Wouldn't believe it. The last time he'd accepted the missing link as proof, he was wrong. He wouldn't stop searching for Erela until he found her body.

And she better be alive. He raced up the stairs, calling her name, looking in each room, wondering if they'd missed a threat.

"This way." Logan dropped to all fours, his wolf pouring forth in a display of shifting that involved cracking bones, rippling skin, and the sprouting of hair not often seen outside a demonic orgy.

The wolf bounded up the stairs until he reached Mustafa's bedchamber. He ran back and forth a bit before planting his furry butt in front of the wall by the stairs.

"Where is she?"

The wolf scratched the floor with his paw.

"There's nothing here," Desmond growled as he slammed the wall with the fresco.