They made camp where the forest thinned and stone began to rise. From their position, the kingdom walls loomed ahead, catching the last light of the sinking sun. Torches burned faintly along the battlements. By night fall the city would breathe differently.
Dante stood apart from the fire, eyes fixed on the walls as if he could already see through them. Behind him, the camp murmured. Men sharpened blades, whispered plans. Wolves preparing for war. Footsteps approached.
"Dante."
He didn't turn. "Speak."
Lysa stopped beside him, her posture straight, her voice calm despite the weight of what she carried. "The smiths are ready. The ones near the river."
That got his attention. He glanced at her, sharp and assessing.
"They'll keep quiet," she continued. "They are willing to help because they hate Caius. Some of them forged chains for his dungeons."
His jaw tightened. "Why?"
"Because Caius took their mates and sons. Because he pays in fear and calls it loyalty."
A voice cuts in before Dante could respond.
"Gold buys silence too easily."
Jax steps closer, arms folded, eyes narrow. "A pouch slipped to the wrong hand and suddenly our names are whispered to the guards."
She turned on him, fire flashing in her eyes. "I thought the same when my father was alive and paid in blood. You think this is about gold?" she snapped. "Those men have nothing left to sell. Caius burned their loyalty himself."
Jax scoffed. "Fear makes cowards."
"And loss makes killers." Lysa shot back. "Choose, Jax."
Dante lifted a hand and silence fell at once. She exhaled and turned to him, her tone shifting. "There's something else."
He waited.
"Rescuing Elara now may not be the right move."
Dante's wolf surged, hot and furious. A growl tore from his chest, his eyes flashed gold as his lips peeled back, teeth bared, the sound carrying enough threat to make anyone stiffen.
She recoiled a step despite herself.
"She's my mate," Dante snarled. "You will not speak of her as a strategy."
The bond flared violently, pain and rage coiling together. His hands clenched at his sides, claws threatening to break skin.
"I felt her fear," he continued, voice rough and dangerous. "Every second she remains in Caius grasp is a second too long.
"I know," she said quietly. "And that's why I'm afraid."
"By nightfall," he said, voice cold with resolve. "we enter the city."
She sat on the cold floor with her back on the wall, the remains of her gown gathered on her knees. Mathias lay beside his mother, awake but weak. His eyes followed Elara as she moved recklessly.
"You have to get it to him," he said quietly.
She turned to Mathias, her brow furrowing. "There is no way." she whispered back. "Caius watches me. He'll notice and we would all be in danger."
Her gaze flickered to others in the cell. It wasn't just her.
"Then, I'll go."
She stared at him, stunned. "No."
He pushed himself up with effort, grimacing as pain lanced through his side. "I am not watched like you are."
"You can barely stand. You won't make it past the first gate."
Mathias exhaled. "Someone has to meet Dante. And it has to be now." He leaned closer. "If Caius keeps the lie alive, more people will die. Your parents. His prisoners. My mother." his eyes met Rose's."
"Mathias,"
"Take care of my Mother if something happens to me."
Rose whimpered silently, shaking her head with pain in her eyes.
Footsteps approached, time was slipping away.
He grabbed the blood letter and lay back down, closing his eyes, though his body was already prepared for something far worse.
Minutes stretched until Elara could feel her heartbeat in her throat. The cell had gone quiet, every breath measured, every movement calculated. The scrape of a tray against stone echoed down the corridor.
It was time to eat.
She swayed suddenly, a sharp cry tearing from her lips as she collapsed hard onto the floor.
"Elara!" Rose screamed, dropping to her knees beside her. "She's not breathing!"
Mathias dragged himself forward, panic sharpening his voice. "Help! Anyone!"
The cell door rattled as the guard peered through the bars, irritation etched across his face. "Quiet." he growled. "She's faking."
Elara didn't move.
She shut her body and bond, making sure nothing flowed through her veins. The mark at her neck dimmed. Her skin had gone pale, her body slack, eyes rolled back and tongue out enough to be convincing.
"She collapsed!" Rose wailed. "If Caius knew-"
The guard stepped inside with a curse, kneeling beside Elara to shove her shoulder. But Rose moved first. She flung a fistful of stone rubble straight into his face. The powder was crushed from the cell wall. Elara had chosen it carefully. Certain stones held a mineral she knew wolves were dangerously sensitive to. It burned the lungs, Flooded the senses.
He staggered back, clawing at his throat as his eyes went wild, breath wheezing harshly. Before he could reach the door, Mathias slammed his weight into him.
He hit the ground, hard.
Elara was on her feet instantly, dragging the unconscious man toward the far corner. He would be out for at least, an hour.
"Go." She whispered.
He turned and vanished into the corridor.
The tavern stank of smoke, ale and wet fur. Loud voices rolled through the room in careless laughter, wolves packed shoulder to shoulder, some cloaked and some bold enough not to bother. Dice clattered on rough tables. To anyone watching, Dante was another rogue roaming in the city.
Then, pain hit him. His hands went to his chest as if something inside him had been ripped away, leaving only cold space behind. The bond vanished. No pull that run through his veins with pleasure. Jax caught his arm instantly. "Dante?"
Lysa, already scanning the room, turned. "Who's Norren?" she asked one of the tavern wolves casually, slipping a coin across the table. "I heard he used to drink here."
Dante barely heard her. He reached inward, instinctively searching. Nothing.
"Something's wrong," Jax said quietly. He knew that look. He had seen it years ago, when Dante had been banished and left bleeding beneath the moon. "What is it?"
"I can't feel her."
Jax stiffened. "What do you mean you can't feel-"
Lysa turned sharply, abandoning the wolf who grunted in annoyance. "Is something wrong?"
Jax stepped in front of him. "No. You don't know where she is. You walk into inner quarter alone and-"
"Get to the meeting point with Lysa. I'll be back."
And he was gone.
Mathias moved like a shadow pressed flat against stone. Once, he was tending his father's sheep and now moving in and out of rooms like a rogue wolf. The wound in his leg screamed every time he put weight on it. He clenched his jaw and kept moving. Pain meant he was still alive. A murmur of voices drifted down the corridor.
He saw a nearest door loomed to his left. He slipped inside and eased it shut. Darkness swallowed him whole. For a moment, he stayed pressed to the door, breath locked to his chest. Then his eyes adjusted.
The room was nothing like the cells. High ceilings arched above him, painted with faded stars and moon. His gaze fell to the small table. Bread and cold water.
He staggered forward, seized the bread, and tore into it. Crumbs spilled onto the floor as he ate too fast, barely tasting anything as he chuckled in glee. The door creaked open.
A woman stood there, frozen, dressed in fine fabric, her hair braided neatly down her back. Her eyes widened in horror and she screamed.
Mathias dropped the pitcher, but it was too late. Guards burst in, and he surrendered. But a shadow crossed the room faster than he could track. A guard fell without a sound. Another crumpled before he shifted. The third barely had time to gasp before his neck twisted at an impossible angle. Three bodies hit the stone.
Is he next?
The woman fled, her scream dissolving into echoes and silence returns. He shifted back, breath ragged, blood trailing down his waist. Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
The man stood before the fallen guards like he had always belonged there. A cloak draped his broad frame, dark and heavy, but it had shifted enough to reveal a streak of white in his temple. His presence pressed down the room, cold and absolute.
Mathias blood ran cold. He had seen him before but was enough to recognize the weight of power radiating through him.
"Where is my mate?" the man said, his voice dangerous and final. "I can smell her on you." he took one step forward. "Now, start talking."