“What kind of message?” Sera asks.
“That defecting has consequences. That anyone who helps me will suffer for it. That the allied packs can’t protect their own.” I turn back to Oren. “We have maybe thirty-six hours before the real interrogation starts. After that, even if we get them back, they might not be the same people who left. If they survive at all.”
Ash speaks up from her position near the door. “I can try to get a read on where they’re being held. If I can sense their emotions, I might be able to pinpoint the location.”
“Do it,” Oren commands. “Patrick, I want you working with Wyn and Aidan on infiltration strategies. You know that compound better than anyone. Figure out how we get in, grab our people, and get out without losing anyone else.”
The room erupts into overlapping voices with everyone talking at once about rescue plans and tactical approaches. I tune most of it out; my mind is already running through the compound layout I’m going to have to draw for the council.
The detention cells are in the eastern wing, underground, and heavily guarded. There are checkpoints between the perimeter and the cells. Guards rotate every four hours. Electronic locks on every door require both a keycard and a code.
Getting in will be hard. Getting out with three prisoners, possibly injured or drugged, will be nearly impossible.
But we have to try.
The planning session stretches for hours. We argue about approach vectors and team compositions and contingencies until my throat is sore and my eyes burn from staring at maps. I sketch out the detention wing from memory, marking guard posts and camera positions, and the blind spots I know exist because I helped design the security system when I was still loyal to Thornridge.
Every measure I suggested is now an obstacle I have to overcome. The irony isn’t lost on me.
Wyn suggests a diversionary attack on the northern perimeter while the infiltration team slips in through the maintenance tunnels on the eastern side. Aidan points out that the tunnels are too narrow for a large team, which means we’ll have to go in with minimal backup. I confirm that the tunnels are monitored, but less heavily than the main entrances, which makes them our best option despite the risks.
Oren assigns me to the infiltration team over the objections of several wolves who still don’t trust me. Matriarch Lydia, who has joined via a communication link, argues that sending a former Thornridge wolf into their own compound is either brilliant or suicidal, and she can’t decide which.
I don’t blame them for their doubt. If this goes wrong, I could be leading their packmates into a trap.
By the time the meeting breaks up, the moon has risen high over Grayhide territory. Caelan hasn’t let go of my hand the entire time, and when we finally stumble back to our quarters, she looks as exhausted as I feel.
“You should try to sleep,” I tell her. “This is going to be brutal.”
“I know.” But she doesn’t move toward the bedroom. “Patrick…”
“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.” I pull my hand free and start pacing the small sitting room because I can’t stand still right now. I can’t let myself feel everything that’s churning beneath my skin. “I know what you’re thinking. That this is my fault. Bastian attacked that patrol because of me, because I defected, and he wants revenge. And you’re right. Those wolves are going to suffer because I chose you over my pack.”
She knits her eyebrows together and shakes her head. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“It should be. Thea is your friend. If she dies, if any of them die, that blood is on my hands. I’m the reason Bastian is escalating. I’m the reason he’s targeting people connected to you. Every choice I’ve made since the night we met has put innocent people in danger.”
Caelan crosses the room and plants herself directly in my path, forcing me to stop or run her over. “Stop it.”
“Stop what? Telling the truth?”
“Stop trying to carry everything by yourself.” She grabs my arms and holds me in place when I try to turn away. “You told me yourself, Bastian planned to attack Llewyn. That was his plan for months. He attacked them because that’s what Thornridge does. They hurt people. They destroy lives. They’vebeen terrorizing this valley for years, long before you ever decided to leave. That’s not your fault, Patrick. That’s what you’ve been fighting against since the moment you chose to walk away.”
“I should have found another way. I should have warned you without dragging you into this mess.”
“And then what? I’d be dead or worse, and you’d still be trapped in a pack that was slowly eating you alive. I don’t blame you for what happened today. Neither does Oren, nor Sera, nor anyone else in that room. The only person blaming you is you.”
I want to believe her. I want to let go of the guilt that’s been chipping away at my insides since the messenger arrived. But I’ve spent too many years taking responsibility for things I couldn’t control, and the habit is hard to break.
“I’m going to get them back,” I promise. “Thea, Liman, and Fiona. I’m going to bring them home.”
“I know you are. Just make sure you come home, too.”
She releases my arms and steps back, and for a moment, we just stand there looking at each other.
“Get some rest,” I tell her again. “I need to go over the compound layouts one more time.”
She nods and disappears into the bedroom, and I sink onto the couch with the maps spread across the table in front of me. The detention wing stares back at me; it’s a maze of corridors, guard posts, and locked doors. I trace the route we’ll take when we infiltrate my former pack, memorizing every turn and checkpoint, looking for weaknesses I might have missed.
