Chapter 20 - Heinrich
The information Amos and the research team uncovered spreads through the council chamber like a slow-moving storm.
I stand at the edge of the long wooden table with my hands braced against the surface, staring down at the photographs and satellite images laid out before us. The room smells faintly like old paper and cedarwood, but beneath that familiar scent, tension hangs thick in the air.
Amos adjusts his glasses as he scrolls through the data on his tablet, the faint glow reflecting in the lenses.
“The suppressor cuffs used on Annika were manufactured with a specific alloy only produced by a handful of military contractors,” he explains, tapping the screen to enlarge a document. “Most of those companies are heavily monitored, but one of them shut down operations over a decade ago.”
Conan folds his arms beside me, leaning slightly closer to study the screen. “Meaning the materials should no longer be in circulation.”
“Exactly,” Amos replies.
Damian steps forward then, resting his knuckles on the table as he peers at the image. “So how did they end up in the hands of a group of rogue humans working with demons?”
Amos swipes the screen again, bringing up a photograph of a man whose face I recognize immediately.
Marcus Hale.
A low murmur ripples through the room.
“He’s an arms dealer,” Conan says quietly, narrowing his eyes at the image.
“Was,” Amos corrects gently. “Marcus Hale was arrested nearly eight years ago after being caught trafficking military-grade weapons to several underground organizations.”
My father, Mortimer, straightens slightly in his chair at the head of the table. “And yet his name appears here.”
Amos nods grimly. “He escaped prison six months ago.”
The room falls deadly silent, and I feel something cold settle in my chest as I stare at the photograph again.
Marcus Hale has always been known for operating in the shadows of the human world, selling weapons to anyone willing to pay the price.
His name is known to anyone who has ever seen the news.
The idea that someone like him might be working with demons is troubling enough.
But the information Amos reveals next is worse.
“We traced the manufacturing codes on the suppressors,” he continues. “They lead to a warehouse registered under a shell company in a small town about three hours from here.”
He taps the tablet again, and a satellite image of the building appears. The warehouse sits on the outskirts of a nearly deserted industrial area, surrounded by empty lots and rusting structures that have clearly been abandoned for years.
“A perfect place to hide an operation like this,” Joel mutters.
Damian nods slowly.
“If Marcus Hale is distributing weapons to humans working with demons, then this warehouse is likely where they’re storing everything.”
I straighten, my decision already made. “Then that’s where we go. Maybe this is how we’re led to the portal as well. Tonight.”
My father studies me for a moment before giving a single approving nod.
“We end this before it spreads further,” I add, and preparation begins immediately, spreading across all three packs in the valley.
The Silver Stone Pack moves with quiet efficiency as vehicles are loaded and warriors gather in the yard outside the main hall. The cold air bites sharply against my skin as I step outside, but I barely notice it.
My thoughts are already drifting back to the cabin.
To Annika.
I haven’t left her side much since bringing her back from the cave, and even now, the memory of finding her chained to that wall burns through my chest like fire.
The thought of leaving her again—even for something as important as this—sits uneasily on my mind.
Still, I know I have to go.
But first, I need to see her.
When I reach the cabin, the soft glow of firelight spills through the back windows. I step inside quietly, and the warmth of the house settles around me like a familiar embrace.
For a moment, I don’t see her, and a flicker of worry crosses my chest, tightening it. But then, movement catches my eye through the open back door.
Annika stands in the backyard.
She faces away from me, her hands lifted slightly in front of her as faint flames flicker between her fingers. The fire dances gently in the cold night air, shifting and curling with every subtle movement of her hands.
I pause in the doorway, watching her. Just a few days ago, she could barely stand after what those humans did to her.
Now, her magic glows steadily again, and a quiet pride stirs in my chest.
“You’re improving.” My voice carries across the yard, and Annika turns immediately. When she sees me, a soft smile spreads across her face. The sight of it does something strange to my heart.
“I’m trying,” she says lightly, lowering her hands as the flames disappear. She walks toward me slowly, brushing a loose strand of dark hair away from her face. “How did the meeting go?”
I step out onto the porch, closing the distance between us. “We found the source of the weapons.”
Her brows lift slightly. “Already?”
I nod. “The suppressor cuffs used on you were traced back to an arms dealer named Marcus Hale. He escaped prison several months ago and appears to be working with the demons.”
Annika’s expression darkens slightly at that. “And you’re going after him.”
It isn’t a question.
“Yes.”
For a moment, she studies my face carefully, as if searching for something there, but then she sighs softly. “I figured.”
I reach out instinctively, brushing my fingers gently against her cheek. “If we shut down this operation…if we stop the humans working with the demons…” I pause briefly before finishing the sentence, “You can visit your sister.”
Annika’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
I nod once. “You deserve to see her.”
Emotion flickers across her face before she steps closer, her hands resting lightly against my chest. “Thank you.”
Before I can respond, she rises onto her toes and presses her lips to mine. The kiss is soft at first, filled with quiet affection rather than urgency. But the warmth of her mouth against mine sends a familiar spark through my chest.
For a moment, the world beyond this cabin disappears completely. When she finally pulls back, her eyes search mine. “Should I come with you?”
“No,” I respond immediately. “We’ve all agreed that you’re doing so much better, but you’re not ready for this fight. Not yet.”
Annika nods slowly. “Come back home safe, okay?” she whispers.
I rest my forehead briefly against hers. “I will.” And as I step away from her moments later, one thought echoes clearly in my mind.
I love her…
I love Annika Singh.
The realization settles deep inside me with a certainty that surprises even me. And it only strengthens my resolve for the mission ahead, because I will do anything to make her happy and to keep her safe.
***
The warehouse appears just as Amos described it.
The structure rises from the frozen ground like a relic of another era, its metal side beams streaked with rust and decay. The surrounding industrial park is nearly deserted, the few remaining buildings little more than hollow shells of forgotten businesses.
Our vehicles stop several hundred meters away from the property.
The night is still as we step out, the crunch of snow beneath our boots the only sound breaking the silence.
Something about the place feels heavy and wrong immediately.
Damian moves beside me, his sharp gaze scanning the dark building.
“It’s too quiet out here. Unsettlingly so,” he murmurs.
I nod slightly. The air carries a faint scent that makes my wolf restless.
Demons.
Conan lowers the thermal scanner in his hands after a moment. “There are people inside,” he says quietly. “More than a dozen heat signatures.”
James glances toward the building. “That’s a lot of guards for an abandoned warehouse.”
My instincts sharpen immediately. “Stay alert,” I tell the others as we approach the building carefully, spreading out as we move.
The side entrance hangs slightly ajar, its rusted hinges creaking faintly when Dedrick pushes the door open. Darkness greets us inside.
Rows of wooden crates fill the massive interior of the warehouse, stacked neatly from floor to ceiling. Damian pries open the nearest crate, finding military-grade rifles inside.
Another crate holds suppressor cuffs identical to the ones used on Annika, causing anger to coil slowly through my chest.
“So it’s real,” Conan mutters.
But before anyone can say anything else, the overhead lights snap on.
Blinding white light floods the warehouse, forcing several of us to shield our eyes. Behind us, the metal doors slam shut with a thunderous crash. A slow clap echoes from above, prompting us all to look up.
A metal catwalk runs along the upper wall of the warehouse, and standing there is Marcus Hale, with dark disheveled hair and darker eyes. He leans casually against the railing, applauding slowly as a smug smile spreads across his face.
“I was beginning to wonder when the wolves would show up,” he calls down.
Movement stirs in the shadows between the crates. Men step forward into the light. At first glance, they appear human, but when they lift their heads, their eyes reveal the truth.
Black.
Completely black.
Possessed.
A chilling growl ripples through the room as demons begin crawling down the concrete walls behind them, their twisted forms emerging from the darkness.
Realization hits all of us at the same time.
“It’s a trap!” Conan growls.
Marcus’s smile widens. “Exactly.”
“Don’t let the weapons touch you!” I roar out as the attack begins instantly.
The possessed humans rush forward with unnatural speed, moving faster than any ordinary human should be capable of. Demons surge alongside them, claws flashing as they close the distance.
The warehouse erupts into chaos.
Damian shifts beside me with a roar, his wolf tearing into the nearest demon as soldiers open fire. Sophie steps forward with blazing determination, her hands igniting with powerful flames that arc across the room and strike the advancing demons.
But there are too many.
A possessed human lunges at me with a blade, his movements quick and precise despite the unnatural darkness in his eyes. I knock the weapon aside and slam him into the concrete floor, but another attacker crashes into my side before I can recover.
Pain explodes through my ribs as a demon’s claws rake across my back. I spin, claws distended from my fingers, slashing at the creature and tearing open its throat. But another strike comes from my blind side.
A blade drives deep into my side. The force of the blow sends me stumbling backward as white-hot agony floods through my body, and I realize that the metal is pure silver—the only metal lethal to a werewolf.
My knees hit the ground hard, my voice crippled in my throat.
Across the warehouse, Sophie unleashes another burst of fire that engulfs several demons at once, but the battle rages around us with brutal intensity.
My vision begins to blur as blood spills onto the concrete beneath me. Through the ringing in my ears, one thought cuts through the chaos.
Annika.
I promised her I would come back safe.
But as darkness slowly begins to creep into the edges of my vision, I cling to that promise, while it feels like something I won’t be able to fulfill.