Page 15 of Missing

Hunter closed the door behind us, sealing us in his domain of wood-panelled walls and shelves lined with ancient tomes. The room smelled faintly of leather and ink, a scent that usually brought comfort, but today it felt suffocating, closing in around me with the weight of unsaid words.

"What can I do for you, little brother?" Hunter leaned against his desk, arms folded, a picture of casual authority that belied the sharpness in his gaze.

My pulse thrummed in my ears, a drumbeat of anticipation. Dante flopped into the chair opposite Hunter, his ease doing nothing to alleviate the tension coiling in my stomach. I remained standing, feeling too wired to sit, my fingers itching for something to ground me.

"Harper," I started, and just saying her name felt like I was playing with fire. "What's going on with her? She looked... upset."

Hunter's eyes narrowed slightly, a tell that he was weighing his words. "Concerned about our newest enigma, are we?" His tone was teasing, but there was a steel edge to it, a challenge lying just beneath the surface.

"Let's just say she's piqued my interest," I admitted, my voice betraying none of the turmoil raging inside me. Dante's leg bounced a silent rhythm of impatience or maybe just his excess energy finding its way out.

"Curiosity is a dangerous thing," Hunter mused, tapping a finger against his chin.

Chapter 14

Harper Hillstrom

Ifollowed Melody down the bustling hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. I glanced around at the people we passed, all of them so different from what I was used to.

"Here's the admin office," Melody announced, stopping in front of a door with frosted glass windows.

Stepping inside, I was immediately hit with the scent of stale coffee and stale air. We approached the receptionist, a woman with hair so tightly wound it looked painful. She glanced up from her computer screen, her eyes sharp behind horn-rimmed glasses. "Can I help you?"

"Mr Greyson, please," Melody said sweetly, completely unfazed by the woman's cold demeanour.

The receptionist picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons. "Mr. Greyson, there are two students here to see you." She listened for a moment before hanging up. "Just head through that door there," she said, pointing to a door on the left.

As we walked toward the door, I couldn't help but notice the way the woman's gaze lingered on me. Melody pushed open the door and led me inside.

The door creaked open, revealing a room that looked like it belonged in a centuries-old library rather than a modern college campus. Wood-panelled walls and shelves lined with ancient tomes surrounded us, their spines cracked and worn. The scent of leather and ink hung heavy in the air, making me feel like I'd been transported back in time.

"Wow," Melody whispered, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the space around us. "This place is incredible."

Focus, I reminded myself, trying not to get distracted by the room's unexpected beauty. I was here for answers, not to gawk at the decor.

"Ah, you must be Harper," said a deep voice from across the room. Mr. Greyson stood up from behind a massive oak desk, his dark hair was neatly styled, and he had a familiar air about him, making me wonder if I had met him before. He gestured for us to sit in the two plush chairs opposite him. "Please, take a seat and close the door behind you."

I sat down in the plush chair, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. This whole situation was so surreal; I couldn't believe any of it was real.

"Harper," Mr. Greyson began, leaning forward on his desk, "What can I help you with today."

"Look," I began hesitantly, fiddling with the hem of my shirt, "I think there's been a mistake. That machine must be broken or somethin'. My mom was human, and I don't belong here."

Mr Greyson let out a hearty laugh, the sound bouncing off the wood-panelled walls. "Oh, Harper, that's far from true." He steepled his fingers together, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Your mother was Bonnie Hillstrom, right? Well, she was actually a top-level supernatural here, with three powers. Your father, Shane Bentley, was a three-level power holder as well. Your parents were mated."

My jaw dropped, and it felt like the floor had just disappeared beneath me. There was no way this could be true. It couldn't be.

"Wait…" I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around the revelation. "So, you're telling me that my deadbeat mom had magic powers, and I never knew?" Anger bubbled up inside me, mixing with the confusion and disbelief.

"Harper, discovering one's abilities can be a complicated process," Mr. Greyson explained, his tone patient but firm.

"How is that even possible?" I asked, my voice shaking. "My mother couldn't have been some magical powerhouse. She is an alcoholic who could barely function most days." I paused, trying to wrap my head around this new information. "And as for my father, I've never even met the man. I don't know anything about him."

Mr. Greyson leaned back in his chair, studying me intently. "Your mother's mating with Shane Bentley was registered, as was your birth. We don't typically involve ourselves in domestic issues, but word does get around. It seems your father rejected the mating after it occurred and went on with his life. Your mother, however, didn't handle it well, becoming unstable over time."

"Alcohol affects our magic, Harper," he continued, his voice surprisingly gentle. "The more one consumes, the less control they have over their powers. I imagine if she was drinking every day, she'd be unable to use them at all."

I sat there, my mind reeling from the information overload. Anger started to seep in, filling the cracks of disbelief, as I processed what he was saying. "So, you're telling me my mother had the ability to help us, to make our lives better – but she chose to drown herself in booze instead, all because some guy walked out on her?"

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