Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
RYKER
Blood.
It coats my muzzle, splashes across my chest, and drips from my claws as I stand over what remains of a scout. The fourth I’ve found since beginning the hunt, each one carrying Kitara’s scent on their hands—proof of their participation in her abduction.
They lived long enough to tell me where she’d been taken, but no more.
The clearing where the so-called summit took place lies miles behind me now, the trap having sprung exactly as Thaddeus planned. While I engaged his personal guard in direct combat, specialized teams had targeted Kitara, separating her from our main force with expert precision.
And Zella—trusted, trained, seemingly loyal Zella—delivered my mate directly into enemy hands.
But that isn’t the full extent of their treachery.
Lithia too has disappeared in the chaos, her scent trail abruptly ending at a ravine not far from where Kitara was last seen.
My second, my most trusted enforcer, taken alongside my mate—a coordinated strike designed to cripple both my heart and my right hand.
The betrayal burns colder than any silver weapon could, fueling a rage I’ve never before felt.
Zella had been with us for five years, rescued from apparent persecution by her former pack, given shelter and position within the Shadowmist. All that time, she’d been Thaddeus’s agent, planted to await the perfect opportunity.
My wolf howls with the need to tear her apart limb by limb, to make her suffering legendary among wolf-kind. But vengeance must wait—finding Kitara and Lithia takes precedence over all else.
I lift my head, scenting the air as I seek any trace of either of them.
The claiming bond, which should guide me directly to Kitara, has gone ominously silent—a clear indication they’re using silver to suppress her gift and our connection.
The absence leaves a cold void in my consciousness, a constant reminder of how thoroughly Thaddeus planned this abduction.
Movement to my left alerts me to approaching wolves. I tense, ready for further combat, then relax marginally as familiar scents reach me—Elias, Dane, and several elite enforcers who managed to regroup after the ambush. They approach cautiously, respecting the dangerous mood I’m in.
Dane shifts to human form first, his face grim. His sister’s capture has affected him deeply—the bond between twins leaving him hollow-eyed with worry.
“We’ve found something,” he says without preamble. “Traces of two separate transports leaving the ambush site.”
I shift as well, the transformation providing momentary distraction from my rage. “Two distinct trails?”
“Yes,” Elias confirms, also shifting. “One heading southeast toward Moonclaw territory. The other east, possibly toward the Grand Alpha’s primary den.”
The implications are clear and strategically devastating. They’ve deliberately separated my mate and my second, forcing impossible choices about which to pursue first. “They want to divide our forces,” I growl, the words barely human despite my shifted form.
“It’s worse than that,” Dane adds, his voice tight with controlled fury. “We’ve captured one of their messengers. Under questioning, he revealed they plan to use Lithia as leverage against you—threatening her life to ensure your compliance regarding the seer.”
The trap grows more complex with each revelation. Thaddeus anticipates not just my pursuit but my priorities, using my loyalty to my pack against me. The calculation reminds me why he has remained Grand Alpha for so many decades despite widespread resentment of his rule.
“What would you have us do, Alpha?” Elias asks, his tone carefully neutral while his eyes reflect the impossible position we face.
I study both wolves, weighing options I never wanted to consider.
Dane waits with visible tension—duty to his alpha warring with his instinctive need to pursue his captured sister.
Elias maintains professional distance, though his loyalty to Lithia as his direct superior is evident in his rigid posture.
“We split our forces,” I decide after a moment of brutal calculation. “Dane, take half our fighters and track Lithia’s trail. Elias, your best trackers remain with me to pursue Kitara.”
Dane’s eyes widen with surprise. “You want me to lead the rescue for Lithia? Not you?”
“You’re her brother,” I reply simply. “Your bond will guide you where normal tracking might fail. And there’s no wolf I trust more to bring her home safely.”
Relief and determination cross his features, the responsibility clearly weighing heavily but welcome nonetheless. “I won’t fail you. Or her.”
“And the Alpha Female?” Elias asks, his voice carefully neutral.
“Her trail runs cold at the ravine,” I admit, frustration evident in my tone. “They used silver to mask her scent.”
Elias’s expression darkens. “She’s strong,” he says, offering rare words of encouragement. “Stronger than they realize.”
The assessment would mean more if I could feel Kitara through our bond, could know with certainty that she remains unharmed. The silence where her presence should be feels like a physical wound, raw and bleeding.
“We need to move quickly,” I decide, strategic necessity finally asserting itself over the wolf’s demand that I hunt alone. “Dane, gather your team and head southeast. Track Lithia as if your life depends on it—because hers might.”
He nods, already turning to organize his hunters. “We’ll find her, Alpha. And when we do, those responsible will learn why the Shadowmist is feared.”
“Elias, you’re with me,” I continue, turning to the security chief. “Your best trackers, focused on Kitara’s trail. We head east, following every trace no matter how faint.”
“If they’re smart, they’ll have switched directions multiple times, and used water to mask scent trails, possibly even underground passages,” he points out.
“Then we check every false trail, every water crossing, every tunnel entrance between here and Thaddeus’s den,” I reply, my voice leaving no room for doubt. “I will find her.”
As our teams prepare to separate, I pull Dane aside for a final word. “If you find Lithia first,” I tell him quietly, “get her to safety, then send word. Don’t wait for us.”
He studies me with surprising perception. “And if you find the Alpha Female first?”
“Then Thaddeus finally faces the prophecy he’s spent decades trying to escape.” My voice drops to a growl despite my human form. “And no wolf will forget what happens to those who take what belongs to the Shadowmist alpha.”
Dane nods. “Hunt well, Alpha.”
“And you.”
As he departs with his team, heading southeast toward Moonclaw territory, Elias approaches with our own unit. “Ready when you are, Alpha.”
I close my eyes, focusing all my concentration on the claiming bond. If any mated pair could overcome such suppression, it would be us.
Kitara, I project with all the force of my will. I’m coming for you. Hold on.
For a moment, nothing. Then—faint but unmistakable—a whisper of her consciousness touches mine. Not words, not even coherent emotion, just the barest sense of her presence, like a distant light glimpsed through heavy fog.
She lives. She endures. She waits for me.
It’s enough to focus the rage into something colder, more controlled, more deadly. I shift back to wolf form, my massive body rippling with barely contained violence as I scent the air once more.
The hunt begins.
Days pass in grueling pursuit, each second increasing the distance between captives and rescuers. Elias and his tracking team prove their worth repeatedly, identifying the faintest traces of Kitara’s scent despite Thaddeus’s people using every technique to mask their trail.
On the fourth day, we find confirmation of our direction—a fragment of cloth caught on a thornbush, bearing both Kitara’s scent and traces of her blood.
The discovery sends my wolf into a frenzy of protective rage, though the rational part of me recognizes it as potentially deliberate—a breadcrumb left to ensure we follow the path Thaddeus has prepared.
Trap or not, we have no choice but to pursue. The cloth fragment proves our quarry passed this way within the last twenty-four hours, narrowing the gap between hunters and prey.
By nightfall, we reach the outer territories surrounding Thaddeus’s primary stronghold—ancient lands that have belonged to the Grand Alphas for generations, heavily patrolled and warded against intruders.
Pausing at the border, I gather our diminished forces, now reduced to Elias and seven of our most elite trackers.
“They’ve taken her directly to Thaddeus,” Elias confirms, crouching over a claw-marked root where a faint trace of Kitara’s scent still lingers. “No more diversions or false paths. They want us to follow.”
“Of course they do,” I mutter, eyes scanning the valley below. The Grand Alpha’s den sprawls across the rockface like a festering wound—defensible, elevated, and crawling with guards. “The trap was always meant to end here—at his seat of power, surrounded by his forces, on his terms.”
“We’re outnumbered at least ten to one,” Elias observes, not panicked, just stating fact. “Even with your strength, a direct assault would be suicide.”
He’s right.
Thaddeus’s elite fighters are no joke—fanatically loyal, trained for blood, and bolstered by pack alliances that have survived generations through fear, power, and political marriage. Add to that his war seers and ancient wards, and we’re walking into a death trap if we go loud.
But I’ve never played by the Grand Alpha’s rules.
“We won’t charge the gates,” I say. “We cut the legs out from under them.”
Elias lifts his head. “Guerrilla tactics?”
I nod. “Skirmishes. Strikes on supply lines. Eliminate patrols. Pick off his forces one by one. Quietly.”
The others gather close as I continue, voice low but resolute.
“Thaddeus is counting on our desperation. On my rage. He wants me reckless. Instead, we’ll make him bleed from a thousand small cuts. Thin his ranks. Sow fear and doubt. And when the cracks appear—when his command structure starts to crumble—that’s when we slip in.”
“Won’t that take time?” one of the trackers asks.
“Not as much as you think,” Elias answers for me, eyes gleaming. “You’ve never seen what Shadowmist wolves can do with a week and a grudge.”
I offer a grim smile. “And we’ve got both.”
There’s a quiet moment—a breath shared between wolves, instinctive, electric.
We’re outnumbered. Outarmed. But we’re not outmatched.
“I want two-man teams,” I continue. “Fast, smart, silent. Strike only when you can do so without being seen. Disappear before they can track you. Collapse bridges, sabotage food stores, disable weapon caches. I want Thaddeus questioning his own shadows.”
“What about Kitara?” Elias asks. “If we delay too long—”
“We won’t delay,” I cut in. “We’re buying ourselves a window. A clean one. When it opens, we go in—and we get her out.”
No one argues because they understand what’s at stake. They know what Kitara means to me. To the pack.
War fought in daylight belongs to tyrants like Thaddeus. But war fought in the dark? That’s where we thrive.
“Let the battle begin.”