Elena’s POV
The remainder of my day was consumed by pack responsibilities before I collected the children from school and returned to the packhouse. The familiar routine provided some comfort, though my mind kept drifting to the evening ahead.
I prepared their usual afternoon snacks, and they settled into their favorite spots on the patio furniture. The ritual never changed, and somehow that consistency grounded me. I joined them outside, my eyes scanning the treeline while they chattered excitedly about their day.
The children delighted in watching the patrol wolves dart between the trees during their rounds. Their innocent fascination with pack life reminded me why I fought so hard to protect this world for them. I clutched the patrol roster in my hand, mentally cataloging which guards would be stationed along the south border tonight and calculating exactly how many I needed to relocate.
Damien would remain away for days. The investigation at Peak Pack pack demanded his full attention, and afterward came the inevitable bureaucratic nightmare of reporting to the werewolf council. Those pompous officials demanded exhaustive details about every incident, never satisfied with the information provided. They always wanted more, as if their insatiable appetite for reports could somehow prevent future tragedies.
We kicked a soccer ball around the yard until the sun began its descent, then headed inside where Nora efficiently managed bath time while I started dinner preparations. The domestic normalcy felt surreal considering what I planned to do later.
Throughout our family meal, my thoughts remained fixated on tonight’s clandestine meeting. I forced myself to focus on the children’s animated conversations, though I caught Nora’s questioning glances. She sensed my
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distraction immediately. Nothing escaped her notice when it came to my emotional state.
After dinner, I settled the kids in front of the television while tackling the kitchen cleanup. The mundane task of washing dishes usually calmed my racing mind, but tonight proved different. My phone’s shrill ring shattered the quiet.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hey baby. It’s me.” Damien’s familiar voice carried exhaustion across the miles.
“Hi. How’s everything progressing?” I asked, though his tone already provided the answer.
“Terribly. We’re still documenting the massacre with photographs. The devastation here defies description.” His voice carried a weight I rarely heard from him.
“The hunters are escalating their tactics?” The question tasted bitter.
“Absolutely. And we’re completely blind to their whereabouts.” Frustration bled through his words.
“Every pack across the country knows hunters are systematically destroying communities. Why aren’t they implementing protective measures?” The senselessness of it frustrated me.
“Their only viable option involves abandoning their territories and disappearing underground. Most refuse to consider retreat.”
“What if they vanished, but we ensured the hunters discovered their locations?” I proposed.
“Explain that.”
“They could relocate here. We have numerous vacant houses from our recent construction projects. Multiple families could share accommodations, or we could utilize our human city properties. They’d need to exercise caution
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regarding transformations, but hunters wouldn’t expect to find werewolves integrated among human populations.” The plan crystallized as I spoke.
“That strategy has merit. I’ll present it to the werewolf council. They’ll likely detain me for days with their so–called debriefing process, but without photographic evidence, they’d dismiss everything I’ve witnessed here.”
“I can only imagine.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll resolve this crisis.” His reassurance felt hollow given the circumstances.
After ending the call, I joined the children for television time before announcing bedtime. Nora and I herded them upstairs, through their nighttime routine, and into bed. I read to the twins first, then Seraphina until all three succumbed to sleep.
Nora announced her intention to retire early, claiming exhaustion, I agreed readily, knowing her room’s proximity to the children provided adequate supervision. Once she disappeared down the hallway, I retreated to my bedroom.
At my computer, I searched futilely for relevant information. The internet yielded nothing useful regarding our current predicament. I changed into clothing suitable for nocturnal forest navigation and waited until silence settled throughout the house before creeping downstairs and slipping outside.
Reaching the southern territory boundary, I mind–linked the patrol units with fabricated urgency about suspicious activity near the northern border. They responded without question to their superior’s orders, though I’d accept full responsibility if Damien discovered my deception.
Once the guards departed, I crossed into neutral territory and continued deep into the forest until confident our conversation wouldn’t reach pack ears. I stopped walking and surveyed my surroundings, then heard approaching footsteps.
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Instinctively, I extended my claws and spun around to face a young man with raised hands in a gesture of surrender. Despite his non–threatening posture, I remained wary of this complete stranger.
“Identify yourself and explain your knowledge about Briar,” I demanded.
His nervous demeanor was obvious as his gaze fixed on my extended claws, the only visible sign of my partial transformation.
“I’m Liam. I work with Dawn,” he stammered.
“What?” Confusion clouded my thoughts.
“I meant Briar. They renamed her Dawn after abducting her from you. She requires your assistance, but she believes herself human and has been conditioned to eliminate werewolves.” His explanation hit like a physical blow.
“How do you know her true identity?” My voice barely contained my growing
rage.
“I infiltrated our Captain’s office and accessed Dawn’s complete file. Not the official cabinet version, but his private records hidden in his desk.” Liam’s revelation made my heart race.
“The file documenting her abduction from me as an infant?”
“Yes.”
“Have you shared this information with her?”
“No. She cannot process this truth currently. But she desperately needs help.”
your
“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Every maternal instinct screamed.
“She’s confined to a military base and has endured warrior training since she could walk. She’s never known parental love, and her trainer is abusing her.” His words ignited fury in my chest.
“What exactly does that mean?” I stepped closer, my claws gleaming in the
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moonlight.
“We must convince her of her werewolf heritage immediately, before irreparable damage occurs.”
Studying his earnest expression, I realized this enemy soldier was requesting
my help after his people had tried to destroy us.
“You’re in love with her,” I stated with certainty.
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