The Scrying For Salviana

"Search again," he growled at a cluster of guards. "Now we're searching every inch of the castle. Every chamber, every cellar — if you have to rip the stone from the walls, then do it."

The guards bowed and scattered, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't fast enough.

Alaric's mind raced, dark thoughts twisting inside him. What if she was hurt? What if whoever took her had already…

No. He wouldn't allow himself to think it.

He clenched his fists, his claws threatening to break through his skin. 

His demon side was stirring — the part of him that didn't understand patience or strategy, only destruction and blood. 

It whispered to him: Burn this place down. Force them to return her.

But Alaric fought it back. He needed to think, not lose control.

"Where is a damn wizard or witch when I need one?" he muttered under his breath.