I don’t say anything else. Don’t need to. We both understand what’s coming.
I turn and walk to the guest room, closing the door behind me. My heart pounds against my ribs. Just a few days until I marry a man I barely know. Until I break a curse that’s definedmy entire existence. When that happens, I find out who I really am without magic controlling what I feel.
The terrifying part isn’t the ceremony or the danger or even Thornridge.
It’s that some part of me can’t wait.
Chapter 22 - Reeyan
The war room smells like coffee and bad decisions.
I spread the latest scout reports across Oren’s table while pack leaders from three territories crowd around. Dorian’s voice crackles through the video feed from Ambersky, his face pixelated but his concern clear. Wyn leans against the wall with his arms crossed, and Oren studies the maps with the kind of focus that comes from knowing lives depend on getting this right.
“Thornridge has fifty confirmed operatives positioned here.” I tap the eastern border markers. “Another twenty-three along the northern approach. They’re not hiding anymore.”
Oren traces the positions with one finger. “They want us to know they’re there. Psychological warfare. Make us panic.”
“It’s working,” Dorian states. “My scouts report movement in the western corridor, too. They’re coordinating across multiple fronts.”
I pull out another map, this one marked with the ceremony location. “We’ll be vulnerable during the ritual.”
“Then we make that location a fortress.” Wyn joins us at the table. “Triple perimeter. Enforcers on the outer ring, Alphas on the inner. Nobody gets through.”
“What about suppressors?” Ash speaks up from her seat beside Oren. “Thornridge used them on Sera before. If they deploy those during the ceremony—”
“Veva’s working on counter-measures.” I shuffle through my notes until I find her technical specifications. “She can’t prevent suppressor deployment entirely, but she can dampentheir effectiveness enough that we’ll still have partial shifting capability.”
Oren straightens and looks at each person in the room. “We need to assume the worst-case scenario. Thornridge attacks during the ceremony with full force. How do we keep Sera alive long enough to break the curse?”
The question settles in the space between us. I’ve been asking myself the same thing for two days straight.
“We don’t give them a target.” I point to the ceremony site. “The ritual happens at the border between Grayhide and Llewelyn territories. Natural barriers here and here.” I trace the rock formations with my index finger. “We position sharpshooters on the high ground. Enforcers create a moving perimeter that shifts based on threat assessment. And we keep Sera in the center where the most protection exists.”
“What about Matriarch Lydia’s delegation?” Dorian asks through the screen. “How many Llewelyn wolves are we expecting?”
I checked the message Lydia sent this morning. “At least twenty. She’s bringing her council and some of the elders. Sera’s family will be there, too.”
Wyn catches my eye. “Her family. That’s going to be interesting.”
“Interesting” is one word for it. I’ve been trying not to think about meeting Sera’s parents while we’re all standing around watching me claim their daughter in front of multiple packs. The Llewelyn don’t exactly have a reputation for warmth toward outsiders, and I’m the Grayhide wolf stealing one of their omegas.
“Security for the Llewelyn delegation?” Oren prompts.
“They’ll have their own warriors. We coordinate with them, but don’t interfere. The last thing we need is territorial posturing during a crisis.”
We spend another hour going through contingencies. What happens if Thornridge breaches the perimeter. What happens if the suppressors work better than Veva anticipates. What happens if the curse fights back harder than expected and Sera can’t complete the ritual.
That last one keeps me up at night. Evangeline warned that breaking a binding this old could kill the person attempting it. The magic doesn’t want to be destroyed. It will fight to survive, and Sera will bear the worst of that fight.
By the time we finish planning, my head pounds and my coffee has gone cold. The other leaders file out with their assignments, leaving me alone with Oren.
“You know this could go wrong in about a hundred different ways,” he declares.
“One hundred and thirty-seven. I’ve counted them all. Give or take a few, I probably haven’t thought of yet. But Sera made her choice. I’m supporting it. Whether I like how dangerous it is doesn’t matter.”
Oren moves to the window overlooking Grayhide territory. “When Ash and I got married, it was political. A way to unite our packs and prevent more bloodshed. I didn’t expect to fall for her. Didn’t plan on caring what happened to her beyond her role as luna.”
“But you did anyway.”
