Chapter 22 - Patrick
I wake with Caelan’s scent wrapped around me and her body nuzzled against my side, and for one perfect moment, I let myself pretend that nothing exists beyond this room.
Her breathing is slow and even, and her face is slack with the kind of deep sleep that only comes from exhaustion.
The mark I left on her neck has already started to bruise, with purple and red blooming across her skin like a brand.
My wolf preens at the sight of it. Mine.
She’s mine, and everyone who sees that mark will know it.
But the satisfaction curdles within seconds, because the day is coming that I might very well lose her.
Not to another male. Not to her family’s disapproval or the political complications of our bond. To my own weakness. Because somewhere out there, my little brother is conspiring with the enemy, and I don’t know if I can do what needs to be done if he gets in my way.
I slip out of bed without waking her and pull on clothes that smell like her, like us. The meeting starts in an hour, which means I have sixty minutes to figure out how I’m supposed to choose between the woman I’ve claimed and the brother I’ve protected since he was eight years old.
The walk to the pack hall feels longer than it should.
Every step gives me more time to think, and thinking is the last thing I need right now.
My mind keeps circling back to Jonas, to the way he used to follow me around camp when he was little because I was the only one who didn’t treat him like a burden.
Our mother had already checked out by then; she was lost in her new marriage and her desperate attempts to climb Thornridge’s hierarchy. Jonas only had me.
And I left him.
I told myself it was temporary. I told myself it was just one night at a bar where I was a stranger, so I could clear my head.
But then I met Caelan, and everything changed.
My priorities rearranged themselves around her without my permission, and suddenly, my brother became secondary to a woman I’ve known for less than two weeks.
What kind of person does that make me?
The morning is cold, and I shove my hands into my pockets as I walk.
A few Grayhide wolves pass me on the path, and their reactions range from curious to outright hostile.
I don’t blame them. If our positions were reversed, I wouldn’t trust me, either.
The only reason I’m allowed to walk freely through this territory is that Ash verified my intentions, and even that verification comes with an asterisk.
She confirmed I want to protect Caelan, but she also admitted she can’t predict what I’ll do when tested.
Neither can I.
That’s what terrifies me most. I’ve spent my whole life being the reliable one, the soldier who follows orders without question because questioning gets you killed.
I learned to compartmentalize my doubts and my conscience and my moral objections into neat little boxes that I only opened when I was alone.
It’s how I survived sixteen years in a pack that rewarded cruelty and punished compassion.
But boxes have a way of breaking open at the worst possible moments.
The pack hall is dead ahead, and I force myself to straighten my spine and school my expression into something resembling neutral. These wolves are already looking for reasons not to trust me. I can’t give them ammunition by walking in like a man who is being torn apart by guilt.
The war room smells like stale coffee and fear when I push through the doors.
I position myself at the edge of the massive table that’s covered in maps as I watch the representatives from three packs argue about the best way to rescue people who might already be dead.
Oren Blacklock anchors one end of the table with his mate Ash beside him, while Dorian Fields and his wife Kira occupy the other.
Wyn and Reeyan flank me like they’re not entirely sure I won’t bolt, and I can’t blame them for the suspicion.
Not so long ago, I was the enemy. The fact that they’re letting me anywhere near planning speaks more to their desperation than their trust.
“The scouts just reported in.” Aidan strides through the door with a comm device in his hand and a deep-set scowl. “Thornridge is mobilizing. They’re moving the prisoners east toward the main encampment.”
My stomach drops. “How far out?”
“Six hours, maybe less. They’re not wasting time.”
Dorian swears under his breath. “If they get those prisoners behind Thornridge’s main defensive line, we’ll never get them out. We’ve never successfully breached that territory.”
“Then we don’t let them get that far.” I step forward and plant my hands on the table. “I know that camp better than anyone in this room. I lived there for sixteen years.”
Every eye in the room turns to me. Some hold suspicion, others reluctant hope. Oren’s expression gives nothing away as he gestures for me to continue.
I run my finger along the eastern border of the map where Thornridge territory bleeds into unclaimed wilderness.
“The main encampment sits in a natural basin surrounded by ridgelines on three sides. Mordaunt chose it because it’s defensible; there are only two approaches wide enough for a vehicle, and he keeps both of them heavily guarded. ”
“So we’re looking at a frontal assault?” Wyn asks.
“No. Frontal assault is suicide.” I tap a spot on the map about two miles north of the camp.
“But there’s a third way in. A dried riverbed that cuts through the northern ridge.
It’s too narrow for vehicles, which is why Mordaunt never bothered fortifying it.
The path is rough, barely passable even on foot, but a small team could use it to slip in undetected. ”
Reeyan leans in to study the terrain. “How small?”
“Four, maybe five wolves. Any more than that and we risk detection.”
Kira speaks up from her position next to Dorian. “What about the prisoners? Where would they be held?”
“Thornridge keeps captives in a bunker on the eastern edge of camp.” I move my finger to indicate the location. “Underground, reinforced walls, and a single point of entry. It’s designed to be escape-proof.”
“Which also makes it a death trap if something goes wrong,” Aidan observes.
“Yes. But Mordaunt’s arrogance works in our favor.
He’s so confident in the bunker’s security that he only posts two guards at the entrance during standard operations.
” I pause, remembering countless nights walking past that bunker and wondering about the people trapped inside.
“The rest of the security focuses on the perimeter. Get past the outer defenses, and the interior is surprisingly vulnerable.”
Oren drums his fingers against the table. “You said standard operations. What about now? Mordaunt knows you’ve defected. He’ll be expecting retaliation.”
“He will,” I nod, acknowledging the complication. “Mordaunt is paranoid on his best days. After my defection, he’ll have tripled patrols and changed all the rotation schedules I knew. The guard positions I just described might be completely different by the time we arrive.”
“Then how do we plan for variables we can’t predict?” Dorian demands.
“We don’t plan for specific positions. We plan for Mordaunt’s psychology. He’s obsessive about hierarchy. The wolves he trusts most get assigned to protect him personally. The ones he considers expendable get stuck on prisoner detail.”
Ash tilts her head. “Because guarding prisoners isn’t glamorous.”
“Exactly. Mordaunt sees captives as leverage, not threats. He won’t waste his best fighters babysitting people who can’t escape anyway. The guards we encounter at the bunker will be lower-ranking wolves, probably newer recruits who haven’t proven themselves yet.”
“Easier to subdue,” Wyn finishes.
“Or convince.”
Silence falls over the room. I can feel the weight of their skepticism pressing against me from all sides, but I don’t back down.
“Not every wolf in Thornridge believes in what Mordaunt is doing. Some of them are just scared. They followed orders because defying the alpha meant death, not because they wanted to hurt anyone. If we can get to those wolves before the fighting starts, we might be able to turn them.”
Oren exchanges a look with Dorian. “That’s a big gamble.”
“I know. But it’s also our best chance of getting everyone out alive, including my people who never asked to be part of Mordaunt’s war.”
The distinction matters to me, even if it doesn’t matter to anyone else in this room.
Thornridge isn’t a monolith. It’s a pack full of wolves who ended up there through circumstance rather than choice, wolves like me and Jonas who were absorbed from conquered territories and raised to believe that Mordaunt’s brutality was normal.
Some of them have become true believers.
Others are just trying to survive until something better comes along.
I was one of the survivors. Maybe Jonas is, too.
Before anyone can respond, the door opens again, and a young scout rushes in. He’s breathing hard, like he ran the whole way from wherever he was posted.
“Alpha Blacklock.” He addresses Oren with a hasty bow. “We intercepted a Thornridge communication. The prisoner detail has been assigned.”
My blood turns to ice. “Who’s leading it?”
The scout, Deon, glances at me with a look that can only be described as pity. “Jonas Walzak. Your brother.”
The world narrows to a single point. Jonas. My little brother, the one I’ve spent sixteen years trying to protect, is now standing directly between me and the prisoners we need to rescue. If I go on this mission, I might have to fight him. Hurt him. Kill him.
The thought makes bile rise in my throat.
“Patrick.” Caelan’s voice cuts through the roaring in my ears. I didn’t notice her entering the room, but suddenly, she’s beside me with her hand on my arm and her scent filling my lungs. “Breathe.”
I force air into my chest. In. Out. The panic recedes enough for me to think clearly, though my heart continues to slam against my ribs.
“This changes things,” Dorian comments.
“It changes nothing.” The words scrape out of my throat. “Jonas being on guard duty doesn’t affect the mission parameters.”
Oren’s unimpressed. “It affects you.”
“I can handle it.”
“Can you?” He pushes off from the table and walks toward me with a measured stride.
“You just went pale as a ghost at the mention of your brother’s name.
If you freeze up in the field, people die.
My people. Llewelyn people.” His gaze flits to Caelan and lingers there for a moment before returning to me. “Your mate.”
The mention of her name snaps something into focus. I meet Oren’s stare without flinching. “I won’t freeze.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because Jonas is my brother. If anyone can get through to him, it’s me. I know him better than anyone alive. I know what words will reach him and what arguments will make him listen.”
Caelan’s fingers squeeze my arm. I can feel her worry bleeding through the bond, but underneath it, there’s something else. Faith. She believes I can do this, even when I’m not sure I believe it myself.
Oren eyes me for a long moment. I’ve faced down Mordaunt’s fury and Bastian’s cruelty and a hundred other threats that should have broken me, but something about this alpha’s scrutiny makes me want to squirm.
He’s not trying to intimidate me. He’s trying to see inside me, to determine whether I’m worth the risk he’s about to take.
“You want to lead the infiltration team,” he surmises.
“Yes.”
“Even knowing your brother will be there.”
“Because my brother will be there. Jonas isn’t a killer.
He’s a twenty-four-year-old kid who’s been fed lies his whole life about what Thornridge stands for.
If I can get to him before the fighting starts, I can make him understand.
I can bring him over to our side, and maybe some of the other guards, too.
But that only works if I’m there to do it.
Anyone else will be a stranger, an enemy. Jonas won’t listen to a stranger.”
“And if you can’t convince him? If he attacks you anyway?”
The question settles over the room like a shroud.
“If I can’t convince him, I’ll do what needs to be done. But I have to try, Oren. He’s my brother. He’s all I have left of the life I had before Thornridge swallowed everything. I can’t just write him off without giving him a chance to choose differently.”
Oren turns away and walks back to the table. He braces his hands against the edge and stares down at the maps like they hold answers none of us can see. The room waits in silence while he weighs my words against the risks, and I can feel every second ticking by like a countdown to judgment.
“Aidan,” Oren starts, “you’ll take point on the extraction team. Three wolves, the fastest runners we have. Your only job is getting the prisoners out once Patrick’s team secures the bunker.”
Aidan nods. “Understood.”
“Wyn, you’re coordinating from the ridge line. I want eyes on every approach in case this goes sideways, and we need to pull back.”
“On it.”
Oren straightens and turns to face me. “You can lead the infiltration team. Four wolves, including yourself. You pick them.”
Relief floods through me so fast it makes my knees weak. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Oren crosses the distance between us until we’re standing nearly toe to toe. “I’m agreeing to this because you know Thornridge better than anyone. But I need you to understand something, and I need you to hear me clearly, because I will not repeat myself.”
“I’m listening.”
“If Jonas attacks you or any member of your team, you put him down. No second chances or trying to talk him around in the middle of a fight. The same goes for any other Thornridge wolf who refuses to stand down.” Oren’s voice drops to something cold and final.
“I’m not losing people because you couldn’t pull the trigger on family.
If it comes to a choice between your brother and my wolves, you choose my wolves. Are we clear?”
The words land like stones in my gut. He’s asking me to promise that I’ll kill Jonas if it comes to that, that I’ll put a stranger’s life above my own blood.
Everything in me rebels against the idea.
Jonas is the reason I stayed in Thornridge as long as I did.
He’s the reason I didn’t defect years ago when I first started seeing the rot at the pack’s core.
I told myself I was staying to protect him, to find a way to get us both out together.
But I found Caelan instead. And now I’m standing in a room full of wolves who are trusting me with their lives, and my mate is watching me with those pale blue eyes that see too much, and I have to decide what kind of man I’m going to be.
The brother who sacrifices everything for blood?
Or the mate who protects his chosen family at any cost?