Torin cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair agitatedly as he got to his feet. This new development had really thrown him, and I wondered if he was questioning his control over the pack. “Mika and Gerad are to be held in the basement until we have every piece of information about Simone’s whereabouts,” he said gruffly. “And we will begin an immediate full-scale search to track down our missing pack member. If she ran of her own accord, she will henceforth be banished from this pack, but if she was taken, the full force of Torma will come down on those who have touched one of our own.” He lowered his head to meet my gaze. “We will find her, Mera.”

I swallowed roughly. We had to find her; there was just no other option.

Torin, who had clearly been waiting for me to respond to his declaration, shook his head and spun on the spot, storming out. In the wake of their departing alpha, Jos and Hench got to their feet to fulfill his orders. Thankfully, neither Mika nor Gerad fought back, the pair seemingly too broken to care about heading to the prison cells below.

I just hoped they had information to help guide the others in their search. Gerad said he had been conducting his own investigation—there had to be something he could tell them.

Hench closed the door behind them, leaving me alone in the room. I had so many questions still unanswered, but it felt like gears were finally turning. All I had to do was figure out where to put my time and attention.

My planning was interrupted as the door opened, and I looked up, half-expecting to find Torin back in my space again. Only it wasn’t.

An unfamiliar woman closed the door quickly, her gaze darting around as if ensuring we were alone before she focused on me.

“Uh, hello?” I said, getting to my feet. “Can I help you with something?”

She hurried closer, and I took a moment to pay attention to her. She was tall and statuesque, with perfect brown skin, deep, rich emerald eyes, and long, straight black hair.

Not black like Simone’s; it was closer to mine, with deep auburn undertones.

She was stunning. Model perfect. And there was no way she was a Torma local because I’d never forget a face like hers.

“Alpha Wolfe,” she said respectfully, half-bowing her head. “My—”

“Whoa, okay, I’m going to stop you right there.”

Her head shot up, the insanely long eyelashes framing her rich green eyes, caught my attention as she blinked at me.

“I’m Mera Callahan,” I told her. “Not Alpha Wolfe. Or any Wolfe.”

Torin would have done well to change his pretentious and frankly laughable family name, but of course he wouldn’t. Ego and all that.