Chapter 20 - Patrick
Caelan and I are eating in the small dining room attached to our quarters, sharing a meal of roasted chicken and vegetables that the kitchen staff prepared. She’s been lighter since her conversation with Sera yesterday, more open in the way she looks at me.
We’ve been talking about nothing in particular, trading stories about our childhoods that feel safe enough to share. She just finished telling me about the time she and Sera snuck into the Llewelyn archives after midnight to read forbidden texts about the packs beyond the mountains.
I’ve been savoring every moment of this thing we’ve built between us.
But the young Grayhide wolf who bursts through the door shatters all of that in an instant. The look on his face tells me everything I need to know before he opens his mouth.
“Thornridge hit a Llewelyn patrol,” he gasps, still trying to catch his breath. “Two are dead, and three have been captured. Oren wants everyone in the council meeting room now.”
Every speck of blood drains from Caelan’s face. “Which patrol?”
“The eastern border unit. I don’t have names yet.”
She’s on her feet before he finishes speaking, and I’m right behind her as we race through the corridors toward the meeting room.
My mind is already working through possibilities.
Thornridge doesn’t take prisoners unless they want something from them; information, leverage, or just the pleasure of making their enemies suffer.
I know exactly what Bastian is doing. This is retaliation for the supply cache raid. A message written in blood and pain that defection has consequences.
The meeting room is already crowded when we arrive.
Oren stands at the head of the table with his hands braced on the surface and his blue eyes burning with fury.
Dorian occupies the chair to his right, and Ash hovers near the door with her arms crossed.
Sera and Reeyan are there too, along with Wyn, Aidan, and a handful of other wolves I’ve come to recognize over the past week.
“What do we know?” Oren demands as we enter.
A Llewelyn warrior I don’t recognize steps forward. Her face is streaked with dried blood, and she favors her left leg when she moves. A deep gash runs along her forearm; it’s been hastily bandaged but still seeping crimson through the cloth.
“We were running standard patrol along the eastern border when they ambushed us. At least fifteen Thornridge wolves, maybe more. They hit fast and hard, and they took out Mira and Callum before we could even call on our wolves. The rest of us tried to fight back, but they had suppressors.”
My stomach drops. Suppressors again. Bastian has been deploying them more frequently since my defection, using the technology to neutralize the allied wolves’ greatest advantage. Cut off from our wolves, we’re just humans with slightly better reflexes. Easy prey for a coordinated assault.
“Who did they take?” Caelan demands to know.
The warrior swallows hard. “Thea, Liman, and Fiona.”
Caelan grunts like someone punched her in the gut. I reach for her hand, and she snatches mine so tightly that the bones grind together.
“Thea trained with me,” she whispers. “We grew up together. She taught me how to throw a proper punch when we were fourteen. She’s only twenty-two.”
Sera rushes to her sister’s side and puts a hand on her shoulder. The gesture is small, but I see Caelan lean into the comfort it offers.
“We’re going to get them back,” Oren promises. His attention turns to me. “You know how Thornridge handles prisoners. What are we looking at?”
Every eye in the room lands on me, and I feel their expectations pressing down on my shoulders. They need me to be useful right now. They need me to prove that my intelligence is worth the risk of trusting a former enemy.
“Standard Thornridge protocol is forty-eight hours of isolation before interrogation begins,” I explain.
“They’ll keep the prisoners separated, disoriented, and deprived of food and water.
No contact with each other, and no sense of time passing.
The goal is to break down their resistance before the real questioning starts. ”
“And after the forty-eight hours?” Dorian asks.
“The interrogators move in. They start with questions. They’re going to be after basic intelligence that any captured wolf would be expected to know, regardless of where they stand on the hierarchy.
” I pause, trying to figure out how to say the next part without making Caelan flinch.
“If the prisoners don’t cooperate, things escalate. ”
“Elaborate,” Oren presses.
“Thornridge interrogators are trained to cause maximum pain with minimum permanent damage. They want information, not corpses. At least not right away. Bastian has a particular talent for knowing exactly how much a person can endure before they break. He’ll push them right to that edge, again and again, until they tell him everything he wants to know. ”
The room goes quiet. Caelan’s grip on my hand is turning bruising, but I don’t pull away.
“There’s more,” I continue, because they need to understand the full scope of what we’re facing. “Bastian knows those prisoners are connected to Caelan, which means they’re connected to me. He won’t just interrogate them for intelligence. He’ll use them to send a message.”
“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’ve been 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.
I’m still studying the maps an hour later when the bedroom door opens again.
Caelan stands in the doorway wearing nothing but one of my shirts. The fabric falls to mid-thigh, leaving her legs bare. Her hair settles around her shoulders, and the look she gives me makes my breath catch.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” I manage.
“I tried. I couldn’t stop thinking.”
“About your friend?”
“About you.” She takes a step into the room, then another. “About us. About everything I’ve been too scared to admit since this whole thing started.”
My heart kicks against my ribs, harder the closer she gets.
“I’ve been protecting myself.” She keeps walking until she’s standing right in front of me.
“Holding back because I was angry and confused and terrified of what it meant to want someone who started out as my enemy. But I’m tired of it, Patrick.
I’m tired of protecting myself from something that might not even be a threat anymore. ”
I don’t dare move. Don’t dare breathe. “What are you saying?”
She reaches out and presses her palm flat against my chest, right over my heart. The touch burns through my shirt and brands itself into my skin.
“I’m saying that I don’t know if this is love yet, but I know that I don’t want to lose you before I have a chance to find out.
” Her eyes find mine, and I see everything she’s feeling reflected in their pale blue depths.
Fear and hope and something else that makes my wolf howl.
“You’re about to walk into Thornridge territory and risk your life to save people you barely know.
And I realized tonight that if something happened to you, if you didn’t come back, I would never forgive myself for wasting the time we had on being afraid. ”
“Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“You don’t know that.” She fists her hands in my shirt, pulling me closer.
“But I know that I want to stop fighting this. I want to stop pretending that you’re just some obligation I’m stuck with because of a forced marriage.
You’re more than that, Patrick. You’ve been more than that for a while now. ”
I cup her face in my hands, tilting it up so I can see every emotion playing across her features. “Caelan, I need you to be sure. Whatever happens, I need to know that this is what you actually want. Not because you’re scared or feeling guilty or caught up in the moment.”
She rises on her toes and presses her mouth to mine.
I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her against me, and she makes a sound in the back of her throat that makes my cock spring to life. I pour everything I feel for her into the press of lips and slide of tongues, trying to show her what I don’t have words for yet.
She tastes like the wine she drank at dinner as I thread my fingers through her hair and angle her head back, giving myself better access to her mouth while her hands clutch at my shoulders.
When we finally break apart to breathe, her lips are swollen and her eyes are dazed, and I make a silent vow to whatever gods might be listening: I will survive this mission. I will come back to her. I will give her all the time she needs to figure out what this is between us.