Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
I’m done lying in bed like a lady of leisure.
The silver restraints are gone, my ribs are healed, and my wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, desperate to move, to hunt, to do something useful.
I stand in the main council chamber, maps spread across the massive oak table that’s served Shadowmist’s leadership for three generations. The familiar weight of authority settles on my shoulders as pack members file in—security chiefs, trackers, senior wolves, all looking to me for direction.
This is where I belong.
“Beta,” Dane greets me, taking his usual seat to my right. My twin’s presence is a comfort, his steady energy helping to ground me after months of uncertainty.
Elias settles across from me, his weathered face grave. “Good to have you back in full capacity, Lithia.”
I nod, checking the positioning of the maps one final time. “Let’s get started.”
The door opens, and my chest tightens as Levi enters.
He’s positioned himself as my shadow since my return, appearing wherever I am with convenient excuses.
Need an escort to the armory? Levi volunteers.
Someone to carry maps? Levi’s already reaching for them.
A guard for my morning run? Levi falls into step beside me without being asked.
Meanwhile, Kier has made himself scarce.
I haven’t seen him since Elena discharged him from the medical bay two days ago, though I find myself listening for his voice in the corridors, catching myself looking for copper hair in crowds.
The guest quarters feel impossibly far away, even though I know exactly where he is—two doors down from my own room, close enough that I should be able to sense him but somehow feeling like he’s on the other side of the world.
The contrast between Levi’s overwhelming presence and Kier’s conspicuous absence sits like a stone in my chest. One wolf won’t leave me alone, and the other seems perfectly content to pretend our weeks together never happened.
Which is what you wanted, I remind myself, but the thought feels hollow.
I find my senses straining to catch his scent, to hear his voice among the distant murmurs of pack activity. Without the silver suppressing her, my wolf is stronger, more insistent in her demands.
Where is he? she whines.
We’re not his responsibility anymore, I tell her firmly. We’re home now. Things are different.
But even as I think it, I ache for the easy companionship we’d found on the road, the way he’d appeared whenever I needed him without being asked.
Levi takes the chair immediately to my left, close enough that his knee brushes mine when he settles. The contact is deliberate, possessive, and entirely unwelcome.
“Levi,” I acknowledge coolly. “I didn’t assign you to this briefing.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t move. “As Gamma, I have a right to be here.”
Technically true, though he’s been using his rank to justify a lot of unwanted proximity lately. I let it slide for now—picking this battle in front of the others would undermine pack unity.
Ryker and Kitara arrive together, his hand protective at the small of her back as he guides her to the head of the table. As if my thoughts have conjured him, behind them walks Kier. My pulse jumps at the sight of him.
He looks good. Better than good. His copper hair has been trimmed since our return, the unruly waves now tamed but still catching the light with hints of bronze and gold.
He’s traded his makeshift travel clothes for clean pants and a dark shirt that emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders and the lean strength of his frame.
The shadows under his eyes have faded, and his golden gaze is clear and alert—no longer haunted by silver poisoning or the weight of captivity.
But it’s more than his physical recovery that catches my attention. There’s a confidence in his bearing now, a sense of belonging that hadn’t been there during our first days back. He moves through the room like he has every right to be here
“I’ve asked Kier to join us,” Ryker announces, settling into his chair with fluid grace. “His knowledge of their operations will be invaluable for planning our response.”
Levi’s spine stiffens. “Alpha, with respect, this is pack business. I think—”
“This conversation concerns facilities where he was held captive for three years,” Ryker cuts him off, his tone carrying a warning edge. “Kier’s experience makes him essential to this briefing.”
“He’s not Shadowmist,” Levi presses, his yellow eyes flashing. “He has no oath to this pack, no—”
“He has my trust,” I interrupt sharply, turning to face my Gamma. “Which should be enough.”
Kier doesn’t bristle at the challenge or try to defend his right to be here. Instead, he simply moves to an empty spot at the table, his attention focused on the maps spread before us.
“Report, Beta,” Ryker says, his tone making it clear the discussion about Kier’s presence is over.
I stand, pointing to the largest map, grateful for Kier’s steady presence even as I feel Levi seething beside me. “Based on what Kier and I observed during our captivity, Thaddeus’s network is far more extensive than we initially believed.”
Murmurs of concern ripple through the assembled wolves.
“The facility where we were held is here,” I continue, marking several locations with red pins. “But there’s at least one other installation—”
“Two,” Kier corrects quietly, stepping forward to point at the map. “There’s another compound east of the main site.”
“The scope of their operation extends beyond wolf-kind,” I continue, placing different colored pins.
“They held a bear seer named Adelaide—no older than sixteen. A human seer called Prudence with a sick infant daughter. At least one fae we couldn’t identify.
” I meet each pair of eyes around the table.
“I have no doubt there were many others.”
“How many prisoners total?” Kitara asks.
“Unknown. The facility was compartmentalized—we couldn’t see or scent others beyond our immediate section.” The memory of those walls, the silver burns, the desperate voices in the darkness makes my wolf snarl. “Kier?”
“Conservative estimate across all facilities?” Kier looks to me, deferring to my leadership even as he provides expertise. “Sixty to eighty. But that’s based on what I could observe. The actual number could be much higher.”
“So we’re looking at hundreds of missing persons,” Elias finishes grimly.
Ryker leans forward. “What was their operation like?”
I flip to another map, this one hand-drawn from memory. “The facility where we were held had rotating shifts of twelve guards total. Three levels, heavily fortified, with silver-lined cells designed to prevent shifting.”
“Fourteen guards,” Kier corrects quietly, stepping forward to point at the map. “There were two additional rovers who moved between facilities.”
“The cells were silver-lined to prevent shifting.” I trace the escape route we took. “This was their weak point—”
“Was,” Kier emphasizes, spreading another hand-drawn schematic on the table. “But they’ll have reinforced it by now. They always adapted after escape attempts.” His finger traces new defensive positions. “Here and here—they’ll have added guard posts. And motion sensors along this corridor.”
Elias leans forward, studying Kier’s detailed drawings. “How can you be certain?”
“Because I tried to escape fourteen times,” Kier says matter-of-factly. “Each time, they improved their security based on my attempt. By my last try, they had the place locked down tighter than a vault.”
Murmurs ripple through the assembled wolves.
“The guard rotations follow a specific pattern,” Kier continues, pulling out another sheet.
“They change shifts every eight hours, but there’s a fifteen-minute window during the transition where coverage is thinner.
And every third week, they run equipment maintenance that requires them to be down to only two guards for a full shift. ”
“You memorized all of this?” Dane asks, impressed.
“When you have nothing but time and desperation, you notice patterns. The question is whether they maintain the same operational security at their other facilities.”
“You want to plan a rescue?” Dane asks.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “Every day we delay, more innocent people suffer.” Images of Prudence’s terrified face flashes through my mind. “I volunteer to lead the first team.”
“Absolutely not,” Levi says immediately, his hand moving to cover mine where it rests on the table. “You’ve barely recovered from your own captivity.”
I jerk my hand away, anger flaring. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Gamma.”
“Your judgment may be compromised,” he presses, his yellow eyes intense. “You’ve been through trauma. You need time to—”
“I need to do my job,” I snap, standing abruptly. “Which is protecting this pack and the innocent people I failed to save.”
The room falls silent, tension crackling between us. I can feel every pair of eyes on us, assessing, judging. Levi’s presumption undermines my authority in front of wolves I lead.
Ryker’s voice cuts through the silence, cold as winter steel. “Beta Lithia will determine her own fitness for duty. The Alpha makes deployment decisions, not the Gamma.”
Levi’s jaw works, but he inclines his head stiffly. “Of course, Alpha.”
I resume my seat, fighting to project calm control. “As I was saying—rescue operations are a priority, but they require careful planning.” I look directly at Ryker. “We can’t afford another ambush like the one that took me.”
“Agreed,” Ryker says. “I want reconnaissance teams to scout each known location before we commit to action. Meanwhile, we’ll reach out to other supernatural communities—bears, fae, covens. If this network spans multiple species, our response needs to as well.”
“Timeline?” I ask.