When the Hidden Luna Rises novel Chapter 12

**Chained by Fate**
**Eliza Rowan**
**Chapter 12**

“What did you just say?”

Ryan sprang to his feet, an icy chill seeping into his veins, leaving him momentarily breathless.

This project was not merely a task; it was the cornerstone of his ambition to reclaim genuine authority within the Stormclaw Pack.

Failure was not an option—if this endeavor fell through, everything he had painstakingly constructed would come crashing down around him.

With a low, menacing growl, he demanded, “Who took it?”

The warrior before him hesitated, his throat working as he swallowed hard, the weight of the revelation pressing heavily on him. “It’s rumored to be… the Nightfall Pack. They’ve just returned from overseas.”

Ryan’s brow knitted into a deep frown, a cold, calculating light igniting in his eyes.

“Nightfall Pack?”

The name was unfamiliar, stirring an unsettling curiosity within him.

“Set up a meeting with their Alpha. I want to confront whoever dares to challenge the Stormclaw Pack.”

With that, he fought to suppress the simmering heat of frustration that churned in his chest. “And have Kelsey come here. I need her expertise to counteract this drug.”

He retreated to his study, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him as he stepped into the bathroom for a cold shower.

The icy water cascaded over him, jolting him awake, but as he emerged, the effects of the drug had faded, and Kelsey was still absent.

His patience was wearing dangerously thin.

He flung open the door, nearly colliding with a flustered Beta.

“Alpha, Miss Evans… we still haven’t located her.”

Ryan felt a sharp constriction in his chest, his pupils narrowing dangerously.

“What do you mean, you haven’t found her?”

The Beta broke into a cold sweat, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve searched the villa three times, and there’s no sign of her. I asked the nanny, the butler, the warriors—they all say they haven’t seen Miss Evans for days.”

A vein pulsed angrily at Ryan’s temple. In a fit of rage, he swung his arm violently, sending a vase crashing to the floor, shards scattering like his frayed nerves.

“Useless! Turn over every stone in this territory! Find my mate, or you’ll have far more to fear than my wrath!”

His anger burned fiercely, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions.

Sleep eluded him that night, the darkness filled with unanswered calls that went straight to voicemail.

As dawn broke, Ryan stared at his phone screen, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Kelsey, you’re becoming increasingly defiant.”

***

The following morning brought no news, only an unsettling silence.

Yet, the Beta returned with a response from the Nightfall Pack.

Ryan slid into the car, his expression darkening, his voice dropping to an icy whisper.

“First, I want to meet their Alpha. This project cannot fail.”

“You few, continue searching. If you don’t find her, I’ll involve the werewolf police when I return.”

The motorcade rolled out of Stormclaw territory, tension thick in the air.

Minutes later, a lavish clubhouse shimmered with metallic reflections under the morning sun.

Ryan checked his watch, then pushed the door open with determination.

Seated on the sofa was a male who radiated a powerful Alpha presence, his posture both aloof and sharp, demanding attention.

“Alpha Ryan,” he greeted, his voice steady, laced with an unmistakable hint of disdain. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Ryan, already on edge, felt his irritation deepen at the other’s condescending tone.

Without preamble, he cut to the chase.

“We’ve never crossed paths. Why steal my project? Or is there some personal vendetta you hold against me?”

The male offered a soft hum, a faint, cold smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Personal grudge? Is the Stormclaw Pack Alpha truly worthy of my personal grudge?”

“Andrew Lawson… I hold no grudge against you. What’s your issue with me?”

Andrew let out a cold, humorless laugh, his teeth gritted as he growled, “This isn’t about me. It’s for her—she’s not worth this!”

“She followed you, endured all that humiliation, beaten, cursed, destroyed by your own hands. What right do you have to even utter her name?!”

In that moment, Ryan’s movements froze, realization crashing over him like a cold wave.

The “her” Andrew spoke of wasn’t Claire.

His breath caught in his throat, a sharp pain tearing through a hidden part of his heart.

“Who are you talking about?”

Andrew’s gaze was icy and unyielding. “You really don’t know?”

Ryan’s throat felt parched, desperation creeping into his voice as he protested.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! You’ve got the wrong person; I’m not who you think I am!”

“Wrong?”

Andrew snorted, advancing toward him.

“Then open your eyes wide and see the kind of man you truly are.”

He raised a hand, wiping the blood from his face, determination etched across his features.

In the next heartbeat, his fist drew back again, but a familiar voice suddenly pierced the tension from the doorway.

“Andrew! What are you doing?”

The voice rang out with shock and alarm, clear and cold, tinged with disbelief.

Ryan froze, turning slowly to face the source of the interruption.

There she stood, silhouetted against the harsh light of the doorway, her presence commanding yet composed. A light coat draped over her shoulders, her features calm and collected, radiating a cool detachment.

Kelsey.