Nova’s eyes narrow. “High court. The boundary markers recognized his signature.”
“You sure?”
“Lower fae don’t trigger wards like that,” she says. “He’s been playing us. Manipulating the pack from the start.”
“Fuck.” I run a hand through my hair. “Be careful, Ben. If he realizes you’re following—“
“He won’t.” He disappears into the shadows.
Mateo edges toward me. “So we’ve had a high fae walking among us? Just … talking to whoever he wanted?”
“Not anymore,” I growl.
Mateo retreats back inside, the door clicking shut behind him.
But my gaze stays locked on the path Phil walked down.
I didn’t win anything tonight.
I just bought time.
Chapter 6
Nova
Iwatch Phil’s shadow disappear down the path. His scent lingers; polished cedar and something artificial underneath, like overripe fruit. Dark court glamour always smells like decay to me. They layer it with charm and precision, but the rot clings underneath—for those who know what to smell for.
Dane stands rigid beside me, every muscle locked tight. His anger runs deep, but it’s the calculation beneath that catches my attention. He’s measuring the damage, same as I am.
“You should go back inside,” I say. “They need to see your face right now.”
His jaw tightens. “And what will they see?”
“That’s up to you.”
Through the windows, I track movement like reading a battlefield map. Marcus hasn’t moved from his spot near the kitchen, but his posture has shifted; weight on his back foot now, arms folded across his chest. Not confrontational, just slightly disconnected. Two younger wolves hover nearby, mirroring his stance unconsciously. Pack dynamics are contagious like that.
The molecular structure of loyalty is changing in real time.
“Phil’s manipulation is working, but it’s surface-level,” I observe, keeping my voice neutral. “Three wolves are questioning the decision to let him leave, but they’re waiting for your explanation. The rest remember why they chose to follow you in the first place.”
Dane’s gaze snaps to mine. “And how do you know that?”
“Because I’m not pack. I’m not looking through pack eyes.” I nod toward the lodge. “Look at Mateo’s hands. He’s been clenching and unclenching his fists since Phil left. He wants to believe you, but Phil planted doubt.”
Inside, Mateo paces a tight line near the window, conflicted energy pouring off him in waves.
“You don’t know my wolves.”
“I know people.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “I know manipulation. That’s what Phil specializes in—finding natural fissures and applying pressure. He didn’t create anything new today. He just found what was already broken.”
Dane’s scent shifts, heat spiking through his natural forest-pine smell. My wolf presses against my skin. I ignore her.
“What’s your point?” he asks.
“My point is that you have a high fae—highdarkfae—running psychological warfare on your pack. This isn’t just territorial maneuvering. This is something else.”
His shoulders tense. The space between us shrinks another inch without either of us moving.
