Jack Hunter’s movements corresponded with the area where Amelia had last seen him.

Logan immediately ordered additional men to search every checkpoint and residence in the surrounding area. He instructed them to thoroughly inspect each carriage to ensure that Jack had not slipped through in disguise.

He could not have gone far.

A wanted poster had been issued the moment news of the escape broke. Posters bearing his face had been plastered along every road leading out of the capital. The likelihood of him having left the city already was slim.

Time was the true enemy.

Logan could not forget the state of the carriage found at the crash site, with its twisted metal frame and fatal wounds to the bodyguards’ necks.

Having witnessed that devastation, Logan knew that—

— Bella could not have emerged from it unharmed.

As each wagon and abandoned house near the checkpoints was inspected, the number of red Xs on the map multiplied.

With every passing hour, his unease deepened, hardening into dread.

Then a breathless messenger came running in.

“Your Grace! A suspicious wagon has been found near the forest in District Nine of the capital. There were ropes used for binding and bloodstains in the cargo space. And nearby—”

Logan snatched the shoe from the man’s hand before he had finished speaking.

He recognized it at once.

It was the other shoe — the match to the one he had found at the crash site. No further explanation was necessary.

Without hesitating, Logan mounted the horse that the messenger had ridden in on and spurred it towards the forest.

There was no time to waste.

The overturned wagon was found some distance away, in a drainage ditch. One wheel had broken off and rolled downhill. There was no sign of the horse, but clear signs indicated that it had been cut loose.

Logan’s gaze fell on the faint hoofprints in the nearby soil. He immediately ordered the surrounding area to be searched.

Bella is close.

The realization hit him so hard that his fingertips turned cold, as though the blood had drained from them.

“Fire!”

At that very moment, a shout rang out from beyond the trees.

Black smoke began to rise into the night sky.

***

The fire erupted in an abandoned house deep in the forest.

Having been neglected and untouched by humans for a long time, the structure was quickly engulfed in flames. Sparks climbed the wooden pillars to the roof and cascaded back down in bursts of fire. Thick black smoke poured relentlessly from the windows.

The search party rushed to the nearby stream, filling buckets with water and throwing them at the inferno.

But the flames showed no sign of weakening. They fed greedily on the dry timber and spread with terrifying speed.

Perhaps because of the intensity of the blaze, no one dared step inside. Instead, they paced outside the house, stamping their feet in frustration as they waited desperately for the fire brigade to arrive

“How would I know? I told you—I was trying to save myself!”

A sharp shout erupted from the back of the house.

The commotion caught Logan’s attention.

Jack Hunter was being restrained by the police, thrashing around wildly and screaming like a madman.

“Can’t you see this? I almost burned to death! I barely made it out!”

In protest, he held out the torn, charred edge of his clothing. His dark skin was flushed red and covered in scorch marks.

However, Logan did not pay any attention to the arm Jack was waving around so frantically.

He was smiling.

Despite the chaos, he could see it clearly.

Jack Hunter was looking straight at him — and smiling.

It was a maddened smile.

In that instant, he was struck by a sense of certainty.

Jack Hunter had not been alone in the house.

Bella was in there.

His heart slammed against his ribs. It felt as though all the blood in his body had surged to his head. Without hesitating, he turned towards the burning estate.

But when he came face to face with the towering wall of flames, his feet refused to move.

Fire burst through the windows. The structure groaned and cracked as it began to collapse. With each breath, his lungs were scorched as though he were inhaling embers.

Memories rushed in all at once, clinging to him and testing his resolve.

Bella was in there. Yet he could not take a single step forward.

Logan clenched his teeth.

“Master!”

The face of Isabella, whom he had helplessly watched fade away, appeared in his mind.

He had vowed never to experience that regret again.

He would not lose another loved one without putting up a fight.

She might still be alive.

“Y-Your Grace?”

Logan strode towards the men fighting the flames and grabbed a bucket.

Without hesitating, he tipped it over his head.

Once. Twice.

He repeated this several times until his clothes were completely soaked and clung heavily to his body.

He drew in a deep breath.

Then, without warning, he ran into the fire.

“Your Grace!”

“Your Grace, it’s too dangerous!”

The desperate shouts behind him had faded into a meaningless din.

Logan did not stop.

The heat hit him like a living force. The wooden floor burned beneath his boots, and flames twisted and lunged, blocking his path.

Thick, acrid smoke filled the air, choking it so completely that he could barely see more than a few steps ahead.

Pressing his forearm over his nose and mouth, Logan forced himself to remember the layout of the estate, which he had only briefly surveyed from outside.

Room by room, he reconstructed it in his mind as he pushed forward.

Not here. Not here either.

He had ventured deep into the interior, yet there was still no sign of Bella.

The sound of collapsing debris thundered somewhere close by. Anxiety tightened around his throat, nearly strangling him. His pace quickened, every step driven by urgency.

Then—

At last, he saw her.

A figure was crumpled near the back of the house.

She had collapsed in the doorway, as though she had been trying to escape the flames but had fallen just short of freedom.

“Bella!”

Logan rushed over to her and pulled her into his arms. Her face was covered in blood, looking just as it had after the accident.

Before doing anything else, he pressed his ear against her chest.

Faint—

— but he could hear a heartbeat.

She’s alive.

That was all that mattered.

Without allowing himself a moment’s relief, he tore off his soaked jacket, wrapped it tightly around her, and lifted her onto his back.

Now, all he needed to do was retrace his steps and escape.

Crack!

A thunderous sound erupted above him.

A pillar, weakened by the flames, was giving way. Logan reacted on instinct, thrusting his arm upwards to shield them from the falling beam.

Blazing heat seared his flesh. Pain exploded through him — sharp and all-consuming — but he clenched his teeth and pushed the beam aside.

He turned towards the entrance he had used —

— but the path was completely blocked by fallen debris. The flames seized the opportunity, racing hungrily along the dry timber.

His gaze swept frantically across the room, searching for another exit.

Then he saw it: A narrow passageway that must lead to the kitchen.

Gripping Bella tightly, he plunged into the trembling wall of fire. The heat hit him like a suffocating wall, as though trying to drag him back.

He forced himself forward.

He burst out of the house and rolled onto the ground.

There was a deafening crash behind him as part of the building collapsed.

“Hah…!”

Logan turned around.

Ruined beams and rubble were scattered at his feet.

He took deep breaths. Cold air flooded his lungs.

White smoke rose from his burned arm, but he had no time to acknowledge the pain. He focused only on Bella.

He could not tell how long she had been inside the flames.

Had he arrived too late?

Fear grew rapidly within him.

“Bella. Wake up. Bella.”

He gently touched her cheek and called her name.

Her body hung limply in his arms.

There was no response.

Swallowing hard, Logan lowered his head and pressed his ear against her lips, straining to hear even the faintest sound.

There was nothing.

Bella was not breathing.