Chapter 58 – The Real Story Behind the Echo

The voice from the call clung to me like smoke, suffocating and inescapable. The phone buzzed softly in my hand, but I couldn't hear it over the pounding in my ears. Those words kept replaying, like a needle stuck on a cursed record.

I have information about your mate.

Who the hell was that? The tone, the cadence—it was nothing I recognized. Like a shadow whispering from the edges of memory. My wolf stirred uneasily, instincts screaming danger, but no face surfaced. I ransacked my mind: allies, enemies, rogues I'd interrogated or fought in my relentless search for Quinn. Still nothing.

And the bastard had hung up before I could ask anything useful.

A growl ripped from my throat. I slammed the phone down, claws gouging the wood of the desk. My breath came in ragged bursts as frustration gnawed at me. My wolf clawed at my insides, demanding action. But where the hell was I supposed to go?

Memories crept in, dark and relentless.

Quinn.

The night we shared before I ruined everything with my stubborn pride.

Her lips against mine, soft and urgent. The way her soft skin felt. The way her laughter had warmed every corner of my soul. The scent of her hair, like wildflowers after a storm. It had been perfect. She was perfect.

And then she was gone.

I'd torn through the forest that night, my wolf howling in raw, desperate fury. Bloodied paws, shredded earth, the stink of my own fear in the air. By dawn, I was a hollow shell, emptied of everything but rage and grief.

Her parents were next.

The image burned into my mind: standing on their front porch, shirt ripped, caked in mud and sweat, heart racing like a war drum. The world was harsh and uncaring under the rising sun. I clung to one fragile hope—that she might be there, that this was all some twisted nightmare.

Her father opened the door, his face shattering that hope.

"Where is she?" I demanded, my voice raw.

He frowned, gripping the doorframe. "What are you talking about?"

"Quinn!" Her name tore from my throat. "She's missing! I've been searching all night. Don't tell me you don't know anything!"

Her mother appeared, pale as a ghost. "Missing? She left a note saying she was leaving. I was hoping she changed her mind when we heard you knocking."

I didn't wait for an invitation. I shoved past them, pacing their small living room like a caged animal.

"She was taken," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "This shouldn't have happened. Why would you bring her here? Of all places! You knew!"

Their confused expressions only fueled my rage.

"Knew what?" her father asked, his tone wary.

A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp and humorless. My Alpha power rippled through the room, suffocating and heavy.

"Don't play dumb," I snarled. "The curse. The Echo. You're her parents, for God's sake. You had to know the danger you put her in by coming back here!"

Her mother gasped, hand flying to her mouth, eyes wide with horror.

"You do know," I said, my voice dropping into something cold and deadly.

Her father sagged into a chair, burying his head in his hands. "Just stories," he whispered. "Legends. Ancient diaries handed down... We didn't believe they were real."

"Not real?" I scoffed, fury boiling under my skin. "What did those stories say?"

Her mother's trembling voice broke through. "Our ancestors killed a man. Cale Lancaster. He was an Alpha wolf. They thought he wanted their land, so they killed him. But his wife was a seer. According to the stories, she cursed our bloodline. Said her mate's Echo would come to reclaim what was his and more."

I stood there, fists clenched, seething. "And you thought it was just a tale."

Her father groaned. "We didn't think it would—"

"It's real," I snapped, cutting him off. "And now Quinn is paying the price for your ignorance."

Her mother sobbed openly while her father sat there, defeated. Pity flickered in me for a second, but it was drowned out by rage and grief.

"You're going to help me find her," I growled.

And they did. For a while.

But after a year of chasing ghosts, they gave up. Leads dried up. Hope vanished.

Then came the accident.

Ice on the bridge. No survivors.

At first, it didn't register. It felt distant, unreal. But when it hit, it wasn't grief for them—it was for Quinn. For the pain she'd feel when she came back to a world where they were gone.

I buried them in my family's graveyard. Restored their inn to its former glory. Made sure there'd be something left for Quinn to come home to.

And now, years later, I was still here. Still waiting.

The phone mocked me from the desk. My claws dug into the torn fabric lying there, tension twisting my chest.

I have information about your mate.

The words shook my brain loose. My wolf growled uneasily. I slammed my fist into the desk, cracking the wood.

"Quinn, damn it," I muttered. "Where are you?"

A knock shattered the silence. Ethan stood in the doorway, eyes amber and wary.

"You okay?"

"No," I snapped. "I'm not."

Ethan frowned. "What happened?"

"Somebody called," I said, gesturing to the phone. "They said they have information about Quinn."

"Who?"

"I don't know!" I roared, standing so fast the chair crashed to the floor.

The phone rang again.

My heart thundered as I snatched it up.

"She's not dead," the voice said, cold and certain.

My breath caught. "Who are you? Where is she?"

The voice chuckled darkly. "Go back to where it began. To the curse."

The line went dead.

Ethan's voice was tight. "That's a trap, Luca."

I turned to him, jaw set. "Maybe. But if there's even a chance she's alive, I'll take it."

His eyes flashed. "Then I'm coming with you."

I didn't argue. We were going back to the ruins—to the place where everything had gone wrong.

And this time, I was going to end it.