Dane straightens, Alpha authority settling around him like armor. “Full pack meeting. One hour. Everyone who’s not on essential patrol.” His voice carries the tone that bears no arguments, no exceptions. “We’re going to find out exactly how deep this goes.”
The wolves file out quickly, the tension in the room shifting from suspicion of me to something much more dangerous—the realization that they’ve been played.
But as I watch Dane take command, as I feel the pack’s energy shift from fracture to purpose, my wolf stirs restlessly beneath my skin. Not because of the mission ahead.
Because of the way he looks when he leads. The authority that settles around him like armor. The way his scent—pine and raw power—reaches me even from across the room.
Stop.
I force my wolf still, lock that awareness down tight. I’ve spent decades learning to read people without letting them read me. One Alpha with a commanding presence isn’t going to undo that.
I came here to stop a manipulation campaign. Nothing more.
Chapter 3
Dane
The command room in the Lodge fills like a storm gathering pressure.
All the wolves on patrol are filing in, their scents a chaos of confusion, anger, and barely contained aggression. Some sit. Others pace the perimeter, unable to stay still. The smart ones position themselves near exits.
They all know something’s coming. They just don’t know what.
I stand at the head of the table, letting my gaze sweep across faces I’ve fought beside, bled with, and built this place for. Ben takes his usual position at my right—my Beta, my second, the wolf who’s stood beside me since the beginning. Callum claims the seat to my left, our Gamma—volatile as hell, but fiercely loyal when it counts. Kari settles across from them, her intelligencespecialist’s mind already working through scenarios before I’ve said a word.
These wolves chose to follow me. Chose to believe in what we could build together. Now I have to tell them we’ve been under attack for weeks without knowing it.
The rest of the pack filters in—those not on essential patrol taking their places in the hierarchy we’ve built together. Kevin from the kitchen. Mateo from maintenance. Elena, sharp-eyed and naturally suspicious. The structure we’ve built isn’t just about ranks—it’s about every wolf knowing their role, their contribution.
The weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders, familiar and grounding. I brought them all here—wolves from Shadow Peak, survivors from Storm Ridge, lone wolves from failed packs, and the packless who had nowhere else to go. I promised them safety, healing, and a fresh start. And despite Phil’s interference, we’ve delivered on that promise.
But as I look at them now, I don’t see fragile wolves ready to shatter. I see survivors who’ve already proven they can handle the truth; who trust me to lead them through it.
Nova stands against the far wall, arms crossed, violet eyes tracking every wolf who enters. From this angle, I can see how she reads the room: head tilted slightly, those impossible eyes cataloging every tell, every shift in posture. She’s memorizing faces, calculating exit strategies. All while looking completely relaxed against the wall.
She’s positioned herself where she can see everyone but stay out of the immediate line of fire. Smart. When this explodes—and it will explode—she doesn’t want to be in the center of it.
Reyna slips in, slightly out of breath from morning patrol. She nods to me—the report that’s never late, always precise. “North and west perimeters clear, Alpha. No breach signatures. Derek’s rotating in now.”
I nod once. The pack’s daily operations continue, even in crisis.
Ben’s already pulled out his tablet, tracking reports against yesterday’s patterns. “Jensen’s team was on the eastern perimeter when they disappeared,” he says quietly. “Three weeks ago. Same rotation Torres has today.”
The room gets colder. Three wolves missing—Jensen, Tomas, and Kira—and we still have no answers.
Marcus enters last, closing the door behind him with deliberate precision. His gaze sweeps the room—not checking in with me the way my wolves usually do, but cataloging. Taking stock. He positions himself against the back wall, arms crossed, stance that says he’s here to listen but reserves the right to disagree.
“We have a problem,” I start, no preamble, no easing into it. “Someone’s been manipulating this pack. Systematically. For months.”
The reaction is immediate. Voices rise in protest, denial, and confusion. Callum’s scent spikes with rage. Kari goes perfectly still, her hand drifting toward her knife.
Marcus’s voice cuts from the back wall. “The missing wolves.” He doesn’t move from his position, but his tone carries authority earned through years of service. “Jensen, Kira and Tomas. They disappeared three weeks ago during a routine border patrol. We’ve found no trace. No scent trail. Nothing.” His eyes meet mine steadily. “And now you’re saying someone’s been working against us from inside? We need answers, Alpha. The pack deserves to know what we’re facing.”
Nova doesn’t move from her position, but I catch the subtle shift in her stance—weight settling on the balls of her feet, ready to move fast if this goes sideways. Her violet eyes track the most agitated wolves, calculating response times, measuring threats. Half a dozen conversations start at once.
“Enough.” My voice cuts through the chaos, Alpha command backing every syllable. The room goes silent. “You’ll listen. Then you’ll talk. In order.”
I nod toward Nova. “She tracked the pattern here. Three other packs showed the same signs. They didn’t survive.”
