Grayson heaved out a sigh. He’d known that going undercover to infiltrate Theodore’s network years ago had put a target on his back, but he hadn’t realized just how far Theodore would go for revenge. And now that target was on Bellefleur, on Cora.
“This is on me,” Grayson said, his voice quieter than usual.
“Don’t start with that martyr crap,” Zane told him. “Theodore would’ve come for Bellefleur eventually, with or without you in the picture. All you did was speed up the timeline.”
“Exactly. I gave him a reason to escalate.”
“And now you’ve got a reason to stop him,” Zane countered. “Sitting here beating yourself up isn’t going to help anyone. What’s the plan?”
Grayson leaned back in his chair with his mind racing. They couldn’t just wait for Theodore to make his move. They needed to be proactive, anticipate his next steps, and cut him off at the knees. But every plan came with risks, and the thought of putting anyone else in danger—especially Cora—was almost unbearable.
“We tighten security around town,” he announced. “Double patrols on all the main roads and vulnerable areas. Get the witches and shifters working together to fortify the wards. And we need a solid evacuation plan in case things go south.”
“And the auctions?” Ryder asked.
“We take them out—all of them. But we can’t move until we’ve got solid intel. Zane, you’re going back in.”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “Back in?”
“If we’re going to shut this down, we need to know where they’re holding the captives and when the next auction is. You’re the only one who can get that close without raising suspicion.”
Zane nodded. “Got it. I’ll play nice with the bad guys a little longer. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Grayson replied. “Don’t get caught.”
Zane saluted mockingly before standing. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As the others filtered out of the room, Grayson stayed behind, staring down at the map spread across the table. Every line and marker felt like a ticking time bomb, a countdown to when Theodore would make his move.
And this time, Grayson didn’t know if he could stop it.
Grayson stepped out of the community building, and his head was pounding with the weight of Zane’s report. The plan they’d cobbled together felt fragile, like trying to hold water in his hands. Every decision carried a risk, and the thought of putting anyone—especially Cora—in harm’s way again made him sick.
The walk back to Cora’s apartment did little to clear his thoughts. He moved on autopilot, retracing familiar streets ashis mind wrestled with doubts and contingencies. By the time he reached her door, his chest was tight, and he had the unshakable sense that he’d already lost control of the situation no matter what he did.
As soon as he stepped inside, the faint smell of something herbal hit him. He froze in the doorway, and his line of sight landed on the small table in the kitchen. Cora and Elena were hunched over it. Both focused on a mortar and pestle that Elena worked with practiced precision.
Grayson’s eyes flicked to the assortment of jars and dried herbs scattered across the table. It didn’t take much to figure out what they were doing.
“Seriously?” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.
Cora and Elena both looked up. Cora’s expression was one of surprise and guilt, while Elena’s was unapologetically defiant.
“Good to see you too,” Elena responded as she set the pestle down.
Grayson stepped inside, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary. “What the hell is this?”
Cora stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”
“You’re working on the potion again,” Grayson accused. “After everything we talked about? After everything we just went through?”
Cora’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t back down. “I told you I wasn’t giving up.”
“And I told you it’s dangerous,” he snapped. “But apparently, that doesn’t matter to you.”
Elena cleared her throat, drawing his attention. “Maybe this isn’t the time for a lecture, Grayson.”
“Then when is the time?” he shot back. “When she gets herself killed? When this whole thing backfires, and we’re left cleaning up the mess?”
