Page 91 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

Not like I have a choice.

A bitter tang wafted into the room from the cracked window to my bedroom. I halted, nostrils flaring. Pain. I’d recognize that scent anywhere.

Emotional pain.

Tearing out of my bedroom, I raced out of my cabin, allowing my nose to guide me to my pack mate, who was undergoing such suffering. My inner wolf whined, pawing at the confines of my mind, seeking to comfort.

The scent of Sage and honeysuckle intermingled with the bitterness of emotional turmoil.

Oh God, Danika.

The smell belonged to Danika, a latent female warrior. I weaved around cabins till my eyes clapped on the one belonging to Danika and her mate, Hunt Pierce. Stepping up onto the porch, I rapped a fist on the door.

No sooner had I lowered my hand, did the door swing back, revealing Danika. Her honey complexion looked pallid and worry lines united her brows. Tears swam in her chocolate brown eyes and she sniffled. “Thank God you’re here, Alpha.”

“What’s wrong, Danika?”

She stepped to the side, allowing me entry. I swept into the foyer and headed to the spacious living room where Hunt stood pacing the crimson floor rug. Upon seeing me, he abandoned the rug and rushed forward.

“Chelsea is missing,” Hunt said. His claws sliced out, slashing at the open air as he flexed his fingers.

A chill tiptoed down my spine. Chelsea Pierce, daughter of Danika and Hunt, eight years of age and just a mere pup. Too young to venture out on her own with nightfall fast approaching.

I spun toward Danika, who remained off to my side. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Wringing her hands, Danika cried, “This morning, before she headed to school.”

“What time does she usually arrive back?” I beetled my brows.

Hunt replied, “Her walk from the school usually takes about thirty minutes… forty tops.”

I did the math in my head.

Shit.

She had been missing for over three hours.

At my incredulous expression that must’ve shown on my face, Danika said, “I-I figured she had detoured to play with some of the human children she’s friends with. Sometimes, they play in the woods. But she is never late like this, returning home.” Her face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks in rivulets. “I-I should’ve gone to look for her earlier.” Her head dropped. “I-I should’ve g-gone.”

“No, no, Danika…” I moved and encircled my arms around her, drawing her close. “Don’t start blaming yourself. We’ll find her.”

Sobs wracked Danika’s body, her shoulders trembling and tears soaking my shirt. My eyes slid over to Hunt. He held my gaze, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. I noted how the burly male, one of the few werewolves in my pack who could shift—a male not prone to expressing emotion—struggled to restrain his worry. But the fear bled through his eyes. No doubt for his mate’s sake, as she was unraveling with each passing moment. But as we held each other’s gaze, we both feared the worst for Chelsea, yet tucked that grim thought into the darkest recesses of our minds.

I organized a search party and sent out all but a few of my senior sentinels, leaving the rest to guard the territory alongside the warriors. Hunt had insisted on joining the search, and though I worried his emotions would cloud his tracking ability, I granted the father his request. Our group had split up, trekking multiple trails in search of Chelsea. Her odor was an integral part of the pack. Chelsea’s scent was like a brand in our memory since she belonged to Hopecrest.

Flanked by Garret and Alexandra, I hiked the trail nearest to where Chelsea attended school. Thick grass flanked the dirt path, oak, and pines towering overhead, their dense canopy melding with the inky canvas that stretched above.

“Do you smell her, Garret?” Alexandra asked.

The world brimmed with clarity because of my night vision. I could detect Garret’s nostrils flaring through the darkness that almost swallowed us whole.

“No,” Garret said. He let out a frustrated growl. “I can only smell prey.”

I inhaled a deep breath, capturing the scents wafting on the breeze. The musk of squirrels, raccoons, and various other animals permeated the forest.

“I can’t scent her either,” Alexandra hissed. “It’s too damn dark. My God, she’s out here all alone like this.”

My throat tightened at the thought of Chelsea wandering the woods, dark shadows closing in, and afraid. I lengthened my strides. As my eyes scanned the loose dirt for any signs of small footprints, I caught a whiff of sunshine and nutmeg. It was faint. My inner wolf stood, ears pricked. She knew. We both did.

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