Chapter 14 Dante
DANTE
Night patrol started at midnight, when Hollow Oak settled into sleep and the Veil hummed with protective magic.
Dante moved through snow-covered streets, his lion's senses sharp and alert. The town looked different at this hour. Peaceful. The kind of sanctuary people dreamed about when they thought of escape and belonging.
The kind of place worth protecting.
He'd volunteered for patrol without thinking, needing something to do besides replay that confrontation in the square. Maeve's fury. Hector's smug satisfaction. The way she'd looked when Dante had stepped in, like he'd betrayed her by trying to help.
He thought about his coat wrapped around her, woodsmoke and whiskey and that floral scent that was pure Maeve. She'd kept it when he'd walked away, wrapping herself in something that belonged to him.
His lion purred at the thought.
Dante told it to focus and continued his patrol.
The Silver Fang sat dark and quiet, its windows frosted over. Maeve would be upstairs in her apartment, probably still furious. Probably planning a dozen ways to gut Hector next time she saw him.
Definitely not thinking about Dante.
He moved past the tavern toward the back lot where deliveries came in. Everything looked normal. Snow undisturbed. Storage shed locked tight. No signs of tampering.
Then the wind shifted.
Dante froze, his lion rising with a snarl.
Foreign scent. Male. Lion.
Not from Hollow Oak.
He dropped into a crouch, scanning the area. The scent was fresh, maybe an hour old. It came from near the storage shed, then trailed toward the tree line behind the tavern.
Someone had been watching. Waiting.
Dante followed the trail, his boots silent in fresh snow. The scent led away from the Silver Fang, winding through trees toward the lake. Not running. Walking with purpose, confident they wouldn't be caught.
Arrogant.
The trees opened onto Moonmirror Lake's shore. Frozen surface stretched out like glass, reflecting moonlight and stars. Beautiful. Deadly if you didn't know where the ice was thin.
The scent vanished at the water's edge.
Dante circled, searching for where the trail picked up again. Nothing. Just snow and ice and the lingering smell of foreign lion that stopped like someone had been plucked from existence.
Not plucked. Hidden.
He studied the lake, noting the way snow had been disturbed near a cluster of rocks. Someone had stood there, watching back toward town. Toward the Silver Fang.
His lion snarled, territorial instincts flaring.
"Lost?" A voice cut through the darkness.
Dante spun, finding Emmett emerging from the trees. The wolf moved with predator silence, his gray-blue eyes reflecting moonlight.
"Patrol," Dante said. "Caught a foreign scent near the Silver Fang."
"How foreign?"
"Lion. Male. Not from Hollow Oak." He gestured to the rocks. "Trail leads here and stops."
Emmett moved to the water's edge, crouching to study the disturbed snow. "They crossed the lake."
"In this cold? Ice isn't stable everywhere."
"Someone who knows the lake would know where it's safe." Emmett stood, brushing snow from his hands. "Which means this wasn't random. Someone scouted the route beforehand."
"Hector's people." The words tasted like ash. "He's bringing in outside forces."
"Looks like." Emmett pulled out his phone, taking photos of the tracks. "Question is why. If he's got the Council petition, he doesn't need muscle."
"Unless he's planning to escalate." Dante studied the lake, seeing strategy instead of beauty. "Put pressure on Maeve from multiple angles. Legal threats from the Council, physical threats from rogue lions lurking around her property. Make her feel surrounded."
"Make her desperate enough to accept his terms."
"Or make her look unstable when she fights back." Dante's hands formed fists. "He baited her in the square today. Got her to lose her temper in front of witnesses. Now he's got lions prowling around her tavern at night. He's building a case that she can't protect Cross holdings."
"Son of a bitch." Emmett's wolf flashed in his eyes. "He's playing both sides. Legal and illegal. If the Council petition fails, he's got backup plans."
"We need to find these lions."
"We need to be smart about it." Emmett pocketed his phone. "If we go after them directly, Hector claims we're harassing his pride members. Makes us look aggressive. Makes Maeve look like she's got the Council doing her dirty work."
"So we what? Let them prowl around?"
"We document." Emmett's voice hardened. "Every scent. Every track. Every sign of outside interference. Build evidence that Hector's not just filing complaints. He's actively working to undermine Hollow Oak's peace."
"That'll take time."
"We've got thirty days." Emmett started back toward the trees. "And Hector's getting confident. Confident lions make mistakes. We just need to catch him making one big enough to tank his Council petition."
Dante followed, his lion restless and agitated. Thirty days felt like forever when rogue lions were lurking around Maeve's tavern. When Hector was tightening the noose and Maeve was too proud to admit she needed help.
"She can't know about this," Emmett said, reading his thoughts. "About the rogues prowling around."
"She deserves to know."
"She does." Emmett stopped, meeting his eyes. "But if we tell her now, what's she going to do?"
"Hunt them down."
"Exactly." Emmett's expression turned grim. "Which is what Hector wants. He's baiting her into aggressive action. Making her look dangerous and unstable so the Council has cause to remove her from the Silver Fang."
"So we lie to her."
"We protect her." Emmett's voice softened. "There's a difference. We're not keeping secrets to control her. We're giving ourselves time to build a defense strong enough that when she does find out, we've got answers."
Dante wanted to argue. Wanted to tell Maeve everything and let her decide how to handle it. But Emmett was right. Maeve would go after these lions the moment she knew they existed. Would defend her territory with claws and fury and exactly the kind of violence Hector was hoping for.
"How long?" Dante asked.
"Until we catch them doing something actionable. Something we can take to Varric that proves Hector's not just filing complaints but actively sabotaging Hollow Oak's peace."
They walked in silence back toward town. Snow fell soft and steady, covering their tracks. Covering the rogue lion's tracks. Covering everything in white like the world was trying to hide its secrets.
"You think he'll escalate?" Dante asked.
"I think he's testing boundaries." Emmett glanced at the Silver Fang as they passed. "Seeing how much he can push before we push back. Tonight was reconnaissance. Next time might be action."
"Then we need to be ready."
"We will be." Emmett clapped his shoulder. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we start building our case. Varric wants evidence, we'll give him evidence. But we need to be systematic. Thorough. Can't give Hector any openings to claim harassment."
He left, disappearing toward the residential streets.
Dante stood in the square, staring at the Silver Fang's dark windows. Maeve was up there somewhere, probably still furious about the confrontation in the square.
Probably with no idea that foreign lions were prowling around her territory. Testing weaknesses. Looking for opportunities.
His lion wanted to go up there. Wanted to knock on her door and tell her everything. Wanted to stand guard and make it clear that anyone who threatened her would have to go through him first.
But Emmett was right. Telling her now would only make things worse.
So Dante turned away from the Silver Fang and headed back toward the Hearth and Hollow, carrying the knowledge of rogue lions and Hector's escalation like stones in his chest.
Thirty days to stop this and protect Maeve from threats she didn't know existed.
Even if it meant keeping secrets.
Even if it meant she'd hate him when she found out.
His lion settled, accepting the burden. Some fights required patience. Strategy. Waiting for the right moment to strike.
This was one of them.
But when the moment came, when Hector finally made his mistake, Dante would make damn sure the lion regretted ever threatening what was Maeve's.
He thought about the rogue scent he caught from the shed and turned back around toward the Tavern. He knew how to pick a lock and he felt that he needed to play it safe. At least for now.
And maybe, if he was lucky, she'd forgive him for the secrets he was keeping.