The Shadows of Ra

I sat behind the heavy oak desk in my office, my hands clenched into tight fists.

This cannot be happening, I thought, the fury roaring through my veins like a wildfire. Not on my watch.

I was pissed, to say the least. For months, rumors had filtered in from local territories about shifters going missing—mostly children, but some men and women as well. I had monitored the whispers with a watchful eye, but now, the nightmare had breached my borders. Six children, all between the ages of nine and thirteen, had vanished on their way to school. None of them had made it home.

The most frustrating part was the lack of evidence. No matter how skilled my trackers were, they couldn't pick up a single scent. It made no sense. I took immense pride in the fact that the Pride of Ra possessed the finest warriors and trackers in the region. For centuries, our territory was considered an unassailable sanctuary. We had a global reputation for being ruthless, tactical, and viciously protective of our own.

A low, vibrating growl ripped from my chest. Inside my mind, Aztec was no calmer. My panther wanted to tear the world apart until he had answers. But we both knew that blind rage would do more harm than good.

My pride had left Africa centuries ago for this exact reason. During the transatlantic slave trade, our ancestors began disappearing. The historical accounts passed down through my bloodline were horrific. To human slavers, our people were thought of as less because of the color of their skin. But to those who knew the truth, a shifter was worth a fortune. They were captured because their animal spirits allowed them to endure far more physical abuse and perform heavier labor than an average human.

Though those dark times had largely passed, the memory of that generational trauma remained raw. To think that my people were being hunted and stolen from their lands once again made my blood boil.

I am going to kill every single one of them, I vowed to the empty room. Who dares disrupt my pride? Who dares endanger my people and step onto my lands?

The thoughts battered the inside of my skull like howling winds. I strove to be a fair, just King. I had spent my reign finding ways to secure our borders and ease the minds of our people, especially the elders who still vividly remembered the scars of past conflicts. Now, that peace was shattered.

The heavy wooden door to my office groaned open, and Garren stepped inside. He must have heard my growl from the outer chambers. As my right hand—the equivalent of a Beta in other shifter communities—it was his duty to keep me in check when my temper threatened to override my logic.

Looking up, I could see the reflection of my own murderous intent mirrored in his eyes.

"My King, you have got to calm yourself," Garren said, his voice tight as he closed the door behind him. "You cannot think straight when you let the anger take over."

I knew he was right, but I also knew Garren shared every ounce of my rage. The situation hit him closer than anyone else. One of the missing children was his nine-year-old niece, Megan. Her birthday had been just a week ago. I saw the subtle shudder that racked Garren's broad shoulders. He was doing everything in his power to block out the horrifying possibilities of what could be happening to her, focusing entirely on the mission to bring her home.

He took a seat in the leather chair opposite my desk, leaning forward. "What are we to do, my King?"

The look on his face cut straight through my anger, replacing it with a profound ache. It was pure, unadulterated worry. Garren’s sister had been bedridden with grief for weeks, and his brother-in-law was barely holding himself together while trying to support his mate. Megan was their only child. Garren had been my best friend since we were cubs; seeing him in this much pain reinforced my resolve.

If I lost control, Aztec would take over, and Aztec was the most volatile, dangerous black panther our lineage had seen in generations. He was a massive, lethal creature with jet-black fur that shone like silk, and yellow eyes that glowed with a terrifying intensity. His snow-white fangs contrasted sharply against his dark maw, making him a living nightmare on four paws when provoked. His stare alone could force the most powerful Alphas into submission.

"We will get her back, Garren," I said, my voice dropping into a stern, unwavering register. "We will bring everyone home."

I meant it. Even if Aztec and I had to wage a war against the entire world—including the Royal family—I would unearth the truth. Fortunately, the disappearances hadn't reached the major cities closest to the Royal castle yet, meaning the Nobles were likely still oblivious. Whoever was doing this was keeping to the rural borders.

"But the lack of a scent is what bothers me," I continued, tapping my knuckles against the desk. "They had to have lurked in our woods for weeks to learn the children's daily routines. To leave absolutely no trace... it requires a specific skill."

Garren looked at me, a sudden spark of strategic focus replacing some of the despair in his eyes. "Should we beef up security even further?"

"Yes," I ordered immediately. "Deploy every warrior who isn't currently assigned to the perimeter patrols. I want guards walking every single cub to and from school. Triple the sentries around the school grounds and the surrounding forest lines. Whoever this is, they are targeting the most innocent among us."

I let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in my chair. Garren stared at me, a sudden, shocking realization washing over his features.

"No," Garren whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "It couldn't be."

The exact same realization slammed into my chest, making the puzzle pieces fall perfectly, horrifyingly into place.

"What other species possesses the innate ability to completely mask their scent and blend into the environment like ghosts?" I asked, a cold chill snaking its way down my spine.

We looked at each other, the truth hanging heavily in the silence of the office.

"Snow leopards," we said in unison.