Chapter 11 - Wyn
Twenty-four Thornridge operatives have been living in our territory for months, and we had no fucking idea.
I crouch behind desert scrub with Aidan beside me as we both stare at the map spread between us on the rocky ground. Red marks indicate confirmed enemy positions, while blue dots show our own patrol routes. The pattern makes my stomach turn.
“They’ve been planning this since before Bastian ever set foot in Llewelyn,” Aidan whispers as he taps the locations with his finger. “Look at the positioning.”
He’s right. The infiltrators have spread themselves across key strategic points throughout the valley—near water sources, along major transportation routes, close to communication towers. This is a coordinated siege that’s been building for months while we remained oblivious.
My radio crackles before a voice comes through. “Wyn, this is Jay. You copy?”
I key the mic. “Go ahead.”
“Found another cache about two clicks north of your position. Military-grade communications equipment and enough weapons to arm a small army.”
“Copy that. Mark it on the map and continue your sweep.”
Dorian’s voice comes through next. “Theo’s team found something similar on the western ridge. These bastards have been stockpiling.”
The scope of the operation becomes clearer with each discovery. While Bastian was playing the role of devoted fiancé and gathering intelligence about Raegan, his associates were positioning themselves for a full-scale takeover of our territories, just in case plan A didn’t pan out.
Just like Bastian said.
“We need to get closer,” I tell Aidan. “The drone footage only shows so much. I want eyes on their main camp.”
“Oren’s not going to like you taking unnecessary risks.”
“If we don’t understand what we’re dealing with, more people are going to die.”
Aidan studies the map again. “The terrain around their main position is mostly open ground. Getting close enough for detailed reconnaissance means crossing at least half a mile of exposed desert.”
“I’ve done it before.”
“Not with professional military forces watching for infiltrators.”
I fold the map and stuff it into my vest. “Every hour we wait gives them more time to prepare.”
Aidan nods and starts gathering his gear. “Then let’s go hunting.”
We make our way back to the rendezvous point where the rest of our team waits.
Dorian stands near his truck with Emin and two Ambersky scouts I don’t recognize—both young, both trying to look more confident than they feel.
Theo and Jay crouch beside their own vehicle, cleaning their weapons and checking ammunition.
“Status report,” I prompt as we approach.
“Six confirmed weapons caches,” Dorian replies.
“Communication equipment?”
“Encrypted satellite phones, portable radio towers, even some kind of jamming devices.” Theo looks up from his rifle. “They could cut us off from outside help whenever they choose.”
The implications make my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin. Cut off our communications, overwhelm our defenses with superior firepower, then claim the Amanzite reserves as spoils of war. It’s a solid tactical plan that accounts for most of our advantages.
“What about personnel?” Emin asks. “How many are we actually dealing with?”
“Twenty-four confirmed so far,” I reply. “Could be more we haven’t spotted yet.”
“Against how many of ours?”
“Combined? Maybe forty fighters between both packs. But most of our people aren’t trained for this kind of warfare.”
One of the Ambersky scouts—Marcus, I think his name is—speaks up. “What about calling in support from the other territories? Llewelyn, the coastal packs?”
“That takes time we might not have,” Dorian responds. “And bringing outside forces into our territory creates its own risks.”
The math isn’t encouraging. Even with superior knowledge of the terrain, we’re outnumbered and outgunned by professionals who’ve been preparing for months. But running isn’t an option. This is our land, our family, our responsibility.
My phone goes off with a text from Raegan. Be careful out there. I can feel your worry through the bond.
The message makes something behind my sternum ache. Even separated by miles, she’s connected to what I’m feeling. The supernatural link between us grows stronger each day.
I text back: Stay close to Ash. Don’t leave the compound.
Her response comes immediately: I’m not helpless.
I know. But I need to focus on this without worrying about your safety.
Fine. But you'd better come back in one piece.
An involuntary smile plays at my lips. Despite everything between us, she still cares, even if she hates me for what I’ve done.
“Problem?” Aidan notices me staring at my phone.
“Just checking in with base.”
“Right.” His knowing smirk tells me he doesn’t believe that for a second, but he doesn’t push. After three years of watching me pretend I didn’t care about Raegan, he probably sees right through my attempts at detachment.
Dorian clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’re going to split into two teams for the close reconnaissance. Wyn, you’ll take Aidan and Jay north toward the main Thornridge camp. I’ll take Emin and Theo south to investigate the supply routes.”
“What about backup?”
“Radio contact every thirty minutes. If either team goes silent, the other provides immediate support.”
I check my watch. “Rendezvous back here in four hours?”
“Or sooner, if we find something that requires immediate action.”
We split up and load our respective vehicles.
The drive north takes us deeper into territory I know like the back of my hand—every canyon, every hidden path, every vantage point that might provide cover.
But the familiar landscape looks different now, viewed through the lens of impending conflict.
What were once landmarks become tactical considerations.
Cover, concealment, fields of fire.
“You know this area better than anyone,” Jay observes from the passenger seat. “What’s your assessment?”
I consider the question while plowing over a particularly rough stretch of desert road. “They chose their position well. Natural defensive advantages, multiple escape routes, and good visibility in all directions. Taking them head-on would be suicide.”
“And taking them by surprise?”
“Possible, but only if we can get close enough to identify their weaknesses first.”
“Which brings us back to the reconnaissance mission.”
“Which brings us back to the reconnaissance mission,” I agree.
We reach the observation point and park the truck behind a cluster of boulders that provide natural camouflage. From here, the Thornridge camp sits about three miles away across rolling desert terrain that offers minimal cover for the final approach.
“Time to shift,” I tell the others.
We strip out of our clothes and gear, leaving everything except essential supplies in the truck. The desert heat beats down on bare skin as I pull the Amanzite pendant from around my neck.
The deep black stone threaded with purple swirls pulses with magical energy, warm against my palm.
Without the enhanced gems, shifting would be agony—bones breaking and reforming, muscles tearing and rebuilding, consciousness fracturing between human and wolf minds.
With them, the transformation flows like water finding its level.
“Everyone ready?” I ask, holding up my stone.
Jay and Aidan nod with their own Amanzite pendants glowing. The magic within them responds to proximity, creating a network of supernatural connections that will allow communication even in wolf form.
I close my eyes and reach for my wolf. He responds eagerly, tired of being confined while danger surrounds our territory. The change begins as a warm tingling in my bones, then spreads outward until my entire body restructures itself. Human concerns fade as wolf instincts take precedence.
Moments later, I stand on four legs instead of two. My senses sharpen dramatically—scents become layered stories, sounds carry emotional weight, and the landscape reveals details invisible to human eyes. The world transforms from a collection of objects into a living tapestry of information.
Ready? I send through the bond that connects our pack stones.
Let’s go, Aidan responds with the same eagerness I feel.
Stay close and keep low, Jay adds. No unnecessary risks.
We begin the approach to the Thornridge camp, moving through scrub brush and rocky terrain.
My wolf knows this land intimately; it understands which paths provide cover and which will expose us to watching eyes.
Every rock, every bush, every slight depression in the ground becomes part of our strategy.
The main camp sits in a natural depression about two miles from our starting point. Getting close enough for visual confirmation requires crossing open ground that makes my hackles rise. But we need intelligence, and remote observation won’t provide the detail we require.
Movement ahead, Aidan warns through our mental link.
I freeze, scanning the landscape until I spot what caught his attention. Two figures in desert camouflage are moving between concealed positions with the disciplined patrol patterns of professional soldiers. Even in wolf form, I can smell their scent mixed with gun oil.
Sentries, I confirm. Professional setup.
Can we get around them?
Maybe. Follow me and stay downwind.
We spend the next twenty minutes working our way around the perimeter, using every piece of natural cover available.
The sentries are good—alert, disciplined, following proper rotation schedules that prevent gaps in their surveillance.
But they’re not expecting infiltration by wolves who know the territory better than their GPS units do.
There, Jay indicates a depression in the ground that runs parallel to their patrol route. We can use that wash to get within visual range.
The approach requires perfect timing. We wait for the sentries to reach the far end of their patrol route, then move quickly through the shallow depression. Desert sand muffles our footsteps, and the natural camouflage of the wash keeps us invisible from the camp.
The Thornridge operation makes my blood run cold.
Twenty-plus tents arranged in a military formation around a central command area.
Vehicles parked in defensive positions with mounted weapons visible on several.
Weapon racks standing in neat rows near the armory tent.
Communication arrays that could coordinate operations across the entire valley.
Holy shit, Jay breathes through the link.
Count the personnel, I order.
We spend the next hour documenting everything we can see. Guard rotations, equipment inventories, and communication setups. The Thornridge forces have everything they need for a sustained offensive operation, including medical facilities and supply chains that could keep them operational for weeks.
We need to get closer to the command tent, I decide. See if we can gather any intelligence about their timeline.
That’s a hell of a risk, Aidan points out.
Everything about this situation is a risk. But if we can learn when they plan to attack, we might be able to prevent it.
The approach to the command area requires crossing fifty yards of open ground with minimal cover. In wolf form, we can move faster and quieter than humans, but we’re also more vulnerable to detection if someone happens to be looking in our direction.
On my signal, I tell the others. Fast and low. Don’t stop until you reach the equipment cache on the far side.
We wait for a gap in the sentry rotation, then break cover simultaneously. My paws find purchase on rocky ground as we race across the exposed space, and every second feels like an eternity.
A shout erupts from somewhere behind us. We’ve been spotted.
Run! I command, abandoning stealth for speed.
Gunfire erupts from multiple positions as the Thornridge forces respond to our presence. Bullets whine past my ears, and I feel the sting of rock fragments kicked up by near misses.
This way! Jay leads us toward a rocky outcropping that provides temporary cover.
We reach the rocks just as more Thornridge wolves emerge from concealed positions throughout the camp, sniffing the air to catch our scent.
How many? Aidan asks.
Too many. We need to extract now.
What about the intelligence?
Not worth dying for.
We begin the retreat, using every bit of cover available while Thornridge forces attempt to surround our position. Their coordination is impressive even without the Amanzite; they move in teams and communicate through yips and growls.
They’re trying to box us in, Jay observes.
Then we don’t use the obvious routes.
I lead them through a series of narrow canyons that most people would consider impassable. Rock walls rise on either side, creating natural corridors that wind through the desert like ancient riverbeds. My wolf knows every twist and turn that might provide sanctuary.
The pursuit continues for another mile before the Thornridge forces finally give up. They’re smart enough to know that chasing wolves through unfamiliar desert terrain is a losing proposition, especially when their quarry knows every hidden path and secret passage.
We reach the truck and shift back to human form, our clothes magically restored thanks to the Amanzite enhancement.
“Well, that was fun,” Jay grumbles as he checks himself over for damage.
“Did we get anything useful?” Aidan asks.
I think about what we observed before the shooting started. “Enough to know we’re in serious trouble. This isn’t some ragtag insurgency. It’s a professional military operation with backing that goes way beyond what we initially expected.”
“So, what do we do?”
“We report back to the others and start preparing for war. Because like it or not, that’s what’s coming.”
We climb into the truck, but before I start it, I get a text from Raegan.
Please tell me you’re okay.
I respond: On my way back. Are you safe?
Yes, but I had another vision while you were gone. We need to talk.
What did you see?
Fire. Lots of fire. And people running.
The message makes my stomach churn with dread.
Whatever the hell is coming to Grayhide, we’re running out of time.