“How many?”
“Enough.” He pulled up more information on his phone, scanning rapidly. “Cornelius has over five hundred pack members. Ethan still has maybe a hundredloyal to him.”
“What do we have?”
“Not enough.” He met my eyes. “Not for a full-scale assault. The Ravencrest pack is strong, but we’re not built for war. Not this kind of war.”
“Then we get help.” I pulled out my own phone, dialing Crane.
He answered immediately. “Isabella? What’s wrong?”
“Everything. I need your help. I need—” I took a breath. “I need your connections in Virginia. Your allies. Anyone who owes you a favor.”
“What’s happening?”
I told him. All of it. Selene’s death. Ethan’s threat. The impending attack from the combined Ashworth and Thorpe forces.
Crane was silent for a long moment before he finally spoke. “I’ll make some calls. Give me two hours.”
“Thank you, Alexander. I truly appreciate all your help.”
“You’re family, Isabella. You and Adele both. And family protects family.” He paused. “I’ll have people there by tomorrow night. Enough to even the odds.”
The call ended.
Dimitri was already on his own phone, barking orders. “I want every entrance to the city monitored. Set up checkpoints on major roads. And get me Captain Morrison, I need to hire his team.”
He looked at me. “Mercenaries. The best money can buy. Former military, experienced with pack conflicts. They use wolfsbane ammunition.”
“How many?”
“A hundred. Maybe more if we’re lucky.” He continued issuing orders, his voice sharp and commanding. “They’ll be here by dawn. We’ll fortify the city and set up defensive positions. You and Adele will be safe.”
The hours blurred togetherafter that. Dimitri coordinated with Edmund and his security team. I helped where I could, using my business contacts to secure supplies, arrange safe houses for civilians, andset up communication networks. Adele stayed asleep through all of it, mercifully unaware of the preparations for war happening around her.
By dawn, the city had transformed. Checkpoints at every major intersection. Armed guards—both pack members and mercenaries—stationed at strategic points. Civilians evacuated to secure locations. We were as ready as we were going to be.
The attack came at noon.
They didn’t bother with subtlety or strategy. They just came, a wave of wolf shifters pouring into the city from multiple directions simultaneously.
The checkpoints held for maybe ten minutes. Then chaos erupted.
I watched from the command center—a secured building downtown—as our forces engaged the enemy. Gunfire mixed with howls. Wolfsbane bullets took down attackers, but there were so many of them. Too many.
“We’re being overrun on the east side,” Edmund reported, his face grim. “They’re pushing through toward the city center.”
“Redirect the mercenary team from sector four,” Dimitri ordered. “And tell our people to fall back to secondary positions. We knew they’d break through eventually.”
The battle raged for hours. Our forces held where they could, retreated when they had to. The mercenaries were worth every penny—disciplined, efficient, deadly. Crane’s allies arrived mid-battle and immediately joined the fray, evening the odds.
But it wasn’t enough.
I was reviewing tactical maps when the power in the building flickered.
Then it went out completely.
Emergency lights kicked on, bathing everything in red.
