“Then we use it,” she says. “Whatever they think they know, we turn it against them. We make them regret every moment they spent watching us instead of running.”
My wolf howls approval inside my chest.
I pull her closer, pressing my lips to her forehead. She grips the front of my shirt like she’s anchoring herself.
Before I can respond, footsteps crunch through the gravel behind us. Dane’s voice cuts through the moment.
“Callum. We got what we need.”
I turn, keeping Lyanna close. Dane stands at the edge of the porch light, his expression carved from stone. Behind him, Ben and Kari flank the spy—bound, bloodied, and shaking.
“Seventeen observation points,” Dane reports. “Rotating schedule, three observers at any given time. Dead drops at theold mill and behind the Silverwood library. Reports go directly to Faelan’s network through a contact in town.”
The spy’s head hangs low, all the fight drained out of him. He gave up everything. Smart enough to know cooperation was his only chance.
It won’t save him.
“Names?” I ask.
“Four others. Descriptions and locations.” Dane’s jaw tightens. “He’s been watching Lyanna specifically for three weeks. Documenting her routine, her healing work, her time with you.”
Lyanna’s hand finds mine, her grip fierce.
“What happens to him?” she asks. Her voice is calm, but I feel the steel underneath.
Dane meets her eyes. “He’s a spy for the man who murdered your sister and tried to destroy our pack. Pack law is clear.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t argue. After a moment, she nods once.
Dane jerks his head toward the tree line. “Kari.”
Kari steps forward, pulling the spy upright with efficient brutality. He starts babbling again—promises, pleas, offers of more information—but she’s already hauling him toward the darkness beyond the compound lights.
The sounds cut off abruptly a minute later.
Dane watches the treeline for a moment, then turns back to us. “War room. Twenty minutes. We need to sweep those observation points before Faelan realizes his man isn’t reporting back.”
He heads inside, already calling for Derek and Nova.
Lyanna and I stand alone on the porch, the night pressing close around us.
“Now we know where they are.” I turn her to face me, hands on her shoulders. “And by morning, every one of those observation points will be empty.”
Her emerald eyes meet mine—grief and fury and desperate hope all tangled together. But underneath it, that core of steel I fell in love with.
“Let’s go make them regret it,” she says.
Chapter 26
Callum
Dawn light filters through the Lodge windows as I watch from the edge of the war room. Derek spreads Evren’s intelligence across the strategy table, his meticulous organization—aligning tribunal records with our existing investigation files—speaking to a sleepless night of work.
“The pattern’s fucking unmistakable,” Derek mutters, tapping each tribunal member’s name as he cross-references them against the spy’s intel. “Every single one compromised within weeks of each other.”Nova moves around the table’s perimeter, her fingers hovering just above the documents without touching them. Her eyes narrow as she cross-references the tribunal corruption data against our contamination analysis—and the surveillance intel from last night’s captured spy.
Across the table, Nyxiana’s pale hands move with practiced precision, arranging magical analysis charts beside Evren’s tribunal records. Her violet eyes widen with recognition.
“The pressure wavelengths are identical,” she says, placing the tribunal corruption timeline alongside our contamination analysis. “Same signature we found on the spy’s communication devices.”
