The rage still burns, but Ben’s words give it direction.
Ben surveys the wreckage—training dummy in pieces, three posts in splinters, blood on the ancient pine. “You know, most wolves just go for a run when they’re pissed off.” He nudges a chunk of destroyed post with his boot. “But sure. Murder the equipment. That works too.”
Despite everything, my mouth almost twitches toward a smile.
Later that evening, our Lodge’s main room transforms into a covert operations center. The core team gathers—Dane, Nova, Ben, Nyxiana, Derek, Kari, and Harper. Lyanna sits near me, close but not touching, her notepad filled with the day’s legal findings.
The smell of hot coffee and tension fills the air as Nyxiana locks the door behind Derek, who enters carrying several devices.
“The standard wards are operational,” Nyxiana announces, her silver hair catching the lamplight. “But they’ll only mask our general presence, not specific communications.”
I nod, still tasting rage at the back of my throat. The threat is invisible but no less real.
Dane’s eyes flick to my hands—the torn knuckles barely scabbed over; fingers still swollen. He doesn’t comment, but I see recognition in his gaze.
“So we create a secondary network,” Derek says. “One that redirects through civilian channels where they won’t be watching.”
The door opens and Toby Reed enters, carrying a metal case. The pack’s tech specialist moves with the quiet confidence of someone who’s survived years as a rogue by being smarter than his enemies. He sets the case on the table and flips it open, revealing a series of small silver discs etched with circuitry that seems to shimmer between technological and magical.
“These are what we need,” Toby says, lifting one of the discs. “Modified scramblers—my own design. They don’t block magical communications; that would be too obvious and they’d know we’re hiding something. Instead, they subtly alter the emotional signature.”
Dane leans forward. “Walk us through it.”
“Standard fae surveillance tracks emotional resonance,” Toby explains, his fingers tracing the hybrid circuitry. “When you’re worried, angry, in love—it creates a specific magical frequency they can read. These discs intercept that signal and flatten it. Makes everything read as mundane. Boring. Not worth watching.”
“Making our communications read as mundane,” Kari adds, studying the disc formation with tactical precision.
Nyxiana places her hand over one of the discs, her fingers emitting that faint violet glow. “Court surveillance specialists track pattern shifts in emotional resonance. When you discuss Lyanna or the marriage situation, these will mask the intensity.”
The implications sink in. Every moment of connection with Lyanna, every conversation about our future, could be weaponized against us. We need to hide not just our words but our fucking feelings.
“Code phrases,” I say, focusing on solutions instead of the rage still simmering beneath my ribs. “Words that sound ordinary but signal specific situations.”
Derek nods, already taking notes.
Nyxiana pulls out a map of pack territory with civilian locations marked. “I’ve established magical relay points across the territory. Messages can be passed without direct contact between parties.”
“The pack should never discuss the tribunal evidence or Caelynn’s murder in any location that might be watched,” Nyxiana warns, her violet eyes intense. “Information compartmentalization is essential.”
Dane’s Alpha authority settles over the room. “Every pack member needs briefing on this. Tonight.”
“I’ve prepared security protocols,” Harper says, her efficiency impressive. “Three tiers based on information sensitivity. Pack members only discuss Level One information in communal spaces. Level Two restricted to secure locations. Level Three ...” she meets my eyes, “Level Three only with designated team members using full encryption.”
“Level Three is Caelynn’s murder evidence and the tribunal strategy,” I clarify.
Ben marks locations on the map. “Information flow mapped to prevent accidental leaks through casual conversation.”
Nyxiana demonstrates a magical technique, her hands creating intricate patterns that shimmer briefly in the air. “This encryption weave masks magical communications. Learn it, use it for anything concerning Lyanna or the tribunal.”
We spend the next hour memorizing code phrases, secure locations, and encrypted channels.
“Networks are active,” Harper finally confirms, looking up from her tablet. “Toby’s encryption is holding across all channels. Every pack member has been briefed through the pack bond and assigned their information clearance level.”
The unfairness burns, but Lyanna matters more than principle right now. We’re building walls against an enemy that watches from shadows, that turns love into a political crime.
But we’re ready for them.
I lead Lyanna down the secluded pathway to my cabin, checking our surroundings twice before unlocking the door. The ward stones Kari and Nyxiana installed—with Toby’s monitoring sensors woven through the magical framework—glimmer with soft violet light as we cross the threshold.
