The heavy oak doors to Alaric's study slammed open so hard they rattled on their hinges. Acantha burst inside, her chest heaving, strands of dark hair clinging to her damp forehead. "She's gone!" she gasped, her voice sharp, panicked, echoing off the high stone walls.
Alaric froze where he stood by the tall window overlooking the moonlit grounds. He turned slowly, dark eyes narrowing. "What do you mean, gone?" His voice was quiet — too quiet.
Acantha's hands trembled at her sides. "Adrianna. I—I can't find her anywhere. She's not in her room. She's not in the training halls. The gardens, the east wing — I checked everything! She's nowhere."
