Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Dawn arrives gray and cold, with mist clinging to the mountains like smoke. I dress in tactical gear—dark clothing that won’t catch light, weapons secured but accessible. Everything I’ll need for what’s coming.
The team assembles in the main courtyard as the sun breaks over the peaks.
Twelve wolves total, each one chosen for specific skills that complement our mission objectives.
Kier stands near the equipment packs, checking and rechecking gear with the methodical precision of someone who’s survived by being prepared.
Levi arrives last, his expression carefully neutral as he approaches our group. If anyone notices the tension between us, they’re smart enough not to mention it.
“Final intelligence update,” I announce, unrolling the facility map one last time.
“Guard rotations confirmed as of last night. Entry point here.” I tap the service tunnel Kier and I had used for our escape.
“Primary objective is prisoner extraction. Secondary objective is intelligence gathering. We’re not there to fight a war—we’re there to save lives and get out. ”
Nods around the circle confirm understanding.
“Questions?”
“Rules of engagement?” asks one of the senior wolves.
“As minimal force as necessary to complete the mission. We’re not executioners, but we’re not martyrs either. Protect yourselves and your teammates.” I look each of them in the eye. “Everyone comes home.”
I roll up the map, tucking it into my pack. “We leave in ten minutes.”
As the team disperses to make final preparations, I find myself alone with Kier and Levi—the three of us forming an uncomfortable triangle of unresolved tension.
“Lithia,” Levi starts, but I cut him off.
“Professional conduct only,” I say firmly. “Whatever personal issues we have get resolved after. Understood?”
Both men nod, though the look that passes between them could power the den’s heating system for a week.
“Good.” I shoulder my pack, checking the weight distribution one final time. “Let’s go save some lives.”
As we move toward the den’s exit, I catch Kier’s eye and see something there that makes my chest tight.
Hold that thought, I tell myself. Just hold that thought until we get home.
KIER
The eastern facility crouches in the valley like a cancer, its industrial bulk scarring the mountainside.
From our position on the overlooking ridge, I can see the steam vents that mark the underground levels, the guard towers that pierce the darkness like silver needles, and the razor wire that crowns the perimeter walls.
“Twenty-three guards visible,” Lithia murmurs beside me, her voice barely audible as she tracks movement through her scope. “Plus however many are inside.”
“Shift change in ten minutes,” I add. “That’s our window.”
Behind us, our team of twelve makes final preparations.
The Ghost River wolves move silently, their gray-furred leader nodding his readiness.
The bear clan fighters are mountain-solid and patient, waiting for blood.
The three witches from the eastern covens whisper final protections over our gear, their magic shimmering like heat waves in the cold air.
“Teams Charlie and Delta in position,” comes the crackling voice through our earpiece. It’s Elias reporting in from the other facility.
“Team Charlie in position,” Dane confirms from the other side of the eastern facility. If all goes to plan, he’ll meet us somewhere in the middle.
Levi checks his watch from his position near our equipment packs. “Synchronized strike in three minutes.”
The tension between him and me remains sharp as a blade, but we’re dealing so far. Whatever personal conflicts we have, innocent lives hang in the balance.
Lithia’s hand finds mine in the darkness, her fingers intertwining with mine for just a moment. No words needed—just the connection, the promise that we’re in this together.
“One minute,” she whispers.
I close my eyes, letting my wolf stretch beneath my skin. Three years of silver poisoning have left their mark, but anger and determination burn hotter than any toxin. Somewhere in that concrete tomb below us, prisoners suffer as we once did.
Not anymore.
“Go.”
We move like death itself descending the mountainside—twelve predators flowing through shadows toward prey that has no idea what’s coming.
The perimeter guards die silently, their throats opened before they can raise alarm.
I take the first one myself, a young wolf whose eyes widen in recognition before I end him.
I remember you, I think as I lower his body behind a supply crate. You liked to watch them break us.
The main entrance is heavily fortified, but we easily find the service tunnel Dane’s team used to scout two days ago. We slip inside like smoke, the concrete walls closing around us with familiar, terrifying weight.
Nope, don’t like this.
“Split formation,” Lithia commands in the barest whisper. “Kier and I take point. Levi secures intelligence. Teams sweep and clear.”
The tunnel system is a maze of maintenance corridors and storage areas—perfect for an ambush.
We encounter the first real resistance at a security checkpoint where the service tunnels meet the main complex. Four guards, armed with silver-laced weapons and body armor that gleams with protective runes.
They see us coming.
“Intruders in sector seven!” one shouts into his radio as he brings up a silver-lined rifle. “Code black! Code—”
Lithia puts three shadow silver throwing knives into his chest before he can finish the transmission. I surge forward, shifting just my face as I tackle the second guard, ripping out his throat with my wolf-jaw. His weapon discharges into the ceiling, concrete dust raining down as we grapple.
The third guard manages to fire once—a silver-core bullet that burns past my shoulder, close enough to sear. Then the Ghost River Alpha is on him, massive jaws clamping down on his weapon arm with a wet crunch.
The fourth turns to run, but one of the bear clan fighters moves with surprising speed for his bulk, crushing the guard’s spine with a single powerful blow.
“Clear,” Lithia reports, but alarms are already sounding deeper in the facility. “So much for stealth.”
I shift back, examining my shoulder. “We knew this would happen,” I remind her. The wound stings but won’t slow me down.
“That was impressive,” she murmurs as we head deeper into the complex. “Not many wolves can hold a half-shift.”
“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”
Someone pulls an alarm, the siren deafening in the narrow corridors, as red emergency lights cast everything in bloody shadows.
“Movement ahead,” one of the witches calls out, her magic allowing her to sense life forces through the walls. “Twelve hostiles, armed and moving to intercept.”
“Let them come,” Lithia draws her primary weapon—a shadow silver blade. “We go through them.”
The ambush comes at a corridor junction where three passages meet. Silver-jacketed rounds spark off concrete as enhanced guards pour fire into the intersection.
“Suppression!” I shout, diving behind a structural pillar as bullets chew chunks from the concrete. “Witches, can you blind them?”
“Working on it!” The lead coven member begins a rapid incantation, her voice rising above the gunfire as magic builds around her hands.
The spell releases in a burst of searing white light that floods the corridor. Enhanced wolf eyes, adapted for night vision, are momentarily useless. The gunfire stops as our enemies cry out in pain and confusion.
“Now!” Lithia commands.
We surge forward catching the guards while they’re still blinded and disoriented.
My blade finds the gap between one guard’s armor plates, punching through to pierce his heart.
Lithia moves like deadly poetry beside me, her weapon singing through the air to open throats and find vital organs with surgical precision.
The fight is brutal but brief. Enhanced guards are tough, but they’re not expecting Elias’ weapons or our coordinated assault. Within minutes, bodies litter the junction, their blood pooling in the harsh emergency lighting.
“Casualties?” Lithia calls out, checking each of our team members.
“Minor wounds only,” the bear clan leader reports. “Nothing that won’t heal.”
We continue deeper, following our noses toward the primary cell block. The facility’s layout becomes increasingly familiar—concrete and steel designed for suffering, silver threading through every surface to weaken prisoners.
“Contact,” I warn, hearing voices ahead. But these aren’t guards.
We round a corner to find a cluster of cells, their doors standing open, confused prisoners emerging into the corridor. Various weres, witches, and a few humans who might be seers—maybe twenty people total, all bearing the telltale marks of prolonged captivity.
“Who’s in charge here?” demands a tall woman with the scent-markers of lynx shifting. Her clothes hang loose on a frame that speaks of months of inadequate feeding, but her eyes burn with undiminished fury.
“Shadowmist Pack,” Lithia identifies herself, stepping forward. “We’re here to get you out.”
“Shadowmist?” A younger man pushes forward—he’s in his mid-twenties with the distinctive aura that marks him as a warlock.
His dark hair is matted, his face gaunt, but there’s something compelling about his features even though they’re marked by torture.
“Thank the gods. We heard the alarms and thought they were moving us again.”
Dane appears at my shoulder.
“Lithia, we’ve secured—” His pale blue eyes lock on the young warlock.
“Are you injured?” he asks, his voice gentler than I’ve ever heard it. The warlock looks up at him with wide, exhausted eyes that hold flecks of green and gold.
“I’ll live,” the warlock says, but he sways slightly on his feet. “Been worse.”
Dane’s hand reaches out to steady him, and I catch the way both men freeze at the contact—electric awareness crackling between them despite the chaos around us.