Lysander's POV
Pace. Stop. Turn around. Pace again.
Lysander had been doing this for four days. Four days of walking the same path through his camp until the ground was worn bare. Four days of feeling Lily through the bond like she was drowning and he was standing on the shore doing nothing.
The bond was screaming.
Not metaphorical. Actually screaming. Her fear was bleeding through the silver connection in waves. Every time she panicked, he panicked. Every time she despaired, something inside him shattered a little more.
He should be there. Should have kicked down every door in Shadowridge and dragged her out. Should have—
"Lysander."
He stopped pacing.
Zara stood at the entrance to his tent with maps in her hands and blood on her boots. She had been inside Shadowridge. Had gotten intelligence from the wolves still loyal to her inside pack territory.
"Tell me she is okay," Lysander said.
Zara's silence was answer enough.
"The trial is rigged," she said quietly. "Maris has fabricated everything. False witnesses. Planted evidence. The whole thing is theater. And they will find her guilty in three days. Execution happens immediately after."
Rage.
It flooded through Lysander so hot and fast that his form rippled. One second he was human. The next his wolf was trying to break through his skin. Trying to shift. Trying to run toward Shadowridge and tear everyone apart.
"No." The word came out like a growl.
"We need to move now." Zara dropped the maps on the ground and spread them out with hands that were shaking. "I know the patrol patterns. I know where the guards rotate. I can get in and get her out before anyone realizes what is happening."
Lysander looked at his camp.
There were maybe twenty fighters here. Outcasts and rogues and wolves who had been exiled or rejected by their own packs. They were good. Strong. Loyal. But Shadowridge had fifty warriors. Maybe more. Trained since birth. Led by an Alpha and an heir.
"If we do this," Lysander said slowly, "my brother will retaliate."
"Your brother already chose his side," Zara said flatly. "He rejected her. He locked her up. He is letting his father execute your mate. That is a choice, Lysander. That is a declaration."
"It means war."
"It already means war." Zara met his eyes and there was something hard in her expression. Something that had been forged in five years of living as an exile. "The moment Shadowridge decided to kill Lily, they declared it. Question is whether you fight for her or let her die."
The bond pulsed.
Lysander felt Lily's heartbeat through it. Faint. Frightened. She was losing hope. He could feel it happening. The way her despair was settling into certainty. The way she was starting to accept that this was the end.
He made the call.
"We go tonight," Lysander said. "Full stealth extraction. If anyone tries to stop us, we go through them."
The words were barely out of his mouth and his wolves were moving.
They had trained for this. Not this exactly. Not rescuing a mate from her own pack. But they had trained for extraction. For quick movement. For getting in and out before the enemy could organize a response.
Supplies were gathered. Weapons checked. The best fighters briefed. Zara spread the maps across the center of the camp and pointed out patrol routes. The healer's quarters location. The fastest path north out of pack territory.
"Three hours until shift change," Zara said. "That is our window. The guards will be tired. Attention will be scattered. We move in. Get Lily. Get out."
"What if she does not want to leave?" one of the wolves asked.
Lysander did not answer. He could not answer. Because the answer was that it did not matter. Lily could not stay. She would die if she stayed. He would not let that happen.
Darkness fell.
The camp transformed into something else. Something predatory. These wolves were not the ragged refugees they looked like in daylight. In darkness, with purpose, with a mate to save, they became something dangerous.
Lysander shifted. His human form was useful for thinking. His wolf was useful for moving. For fighting. For following the bond that pulled at him like a rope tying him to Lily's location.
They moved toward Shadowridge with Zara at the front.
The night was cold. The forest was dark. But Lysander could feel the bond getting stronger. Feel Lily getting closer. His wolf was half-frenzied. Could smell her fear. Could feel her desperate hope that someone was coming.
They reached the border and Lysander shifted back to human form.
The pack boundary marker was a stone with carvings on it. Exiling marks. His name carved into the granite five years ago. A permanent reminder that he was not welcome here.
"Stay close," Zara whispered. "We avoid the main patrol route. Stick to the old servants' paths. No one uses them anymore."
They moved like ghosts through Shadowridge territory.
Lysander's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might break through his ribs. Every second they were here was a second they could get caught. Every step took them deeper into danger.
But the bond was pulling him forward.
Lily was close. So close. He could feel her now. Could feel her reaching toward him through the silver connection like she could sense him approaching.
The healer's quarters appeared through the trees.
Stone walls. One window with bars. Warriors standing guard outside. Exactly as Zara had described.
"Two guards," Zara whispered. "Both trained but not Alpha strength. We have maybe ninety seconds before the shift change."
Lysander's wolves moved into position.
They were going to do this. They were going to walk straight past those guards and get Lily out. And if anyone tried to stop them, there would be blood.
Lysander was almost to the building when the guard's head snapped up.
The warrior's nose twitched. Recognition flickering across his face.
"Exiles," the guard shouted. "EXILES IN PACK TERRITORY!"
Alarm bells started ringing.
Everywhere. All at once. The entire pack was waking up. Warriors mobilizing. Weapons being drawn.
"Go go go!" Zara yelled.
Lysander's form rippled. His wolf was taking over. There was no time for stealth now. There was only action.
He kicked the healer's door open and it exploded inward.
The window. Lily was at the window. He could see her face. Violet eyes wide with shock and hope and fear.
"I have you," he roared, his voice carrying Alpha command that made the entire building shake. "Get away from the window."
Warriors were coming from everywhere now. Shadowridge was answering the alarm. And somewhere in the distance, Lysander heard something that made his blood run cold.
Another howl.
Kael.
His brother was coming. And he was bringing the entire pack with him.
Lysander had maybe thirty seconds to get Lily and run. Thirty seconds before his brother caught him in Shadowridge territory and there was nowhere left to run.
He shifted fully and exploded through the healer's quarters like a battering ram.