22. Chapter 22 #2
The guard’s expression tightened. For a moment she thought he’d leave without responding. Then, quietly, almost to himself.
“Alpha says this is about territory. He wants Blackridge to back off the border. That taking you sends a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“That Blackridge’s strength doesn’t matter if we can hurt what they care about.” He picked up the empty tray. “That Declan Cross isn’t untouchable.”
He left quickly, probably realizing he’d said too much. Sage sat motionless, processing the implications. This wasn’t just about leverage. Thornwood wanted to prove Blackridge was vulnerable, that their reputation for keeping people safe had weaknesses.
They wanted to break Declan publicly.
Declan was close. She could feel his fury and focus converge, some new piece of information driving him harder. She’d been right. he’d received her signal about something larger. He was thinking past extraction now.
Garrett returned after dark.
This time he wasn’t alone.
Valen stood behind Garrett, expression carefully neutral.
He entered the cabin without Sage noticing him move.
The door simply opened and he was already inside, positioned to cover the window and the bathroom door simultaneously.
His eyes moved across the room in one sweep, settled briefly on the chair she’d repositioned near the entrance, and moved on.
He didn’t say anything about it. But she knew he’d marked it the same way she’d marked Garrett’s hand movements. They understood each other across the length of the room, two people with the same training pointed at each other from opposite sides.
“You’ve been asking questions. Disrupting my guards. Making yourself difficult.”
“I’m not going to sit quietly while you use me against people I care about.” Sage remained seated, refusing to be cowed by the display. “If that makes me difficult, you should have chosen different bait.”
“You think you’re shielding him.” Garrett stepped forward. “That your defiance somehow protects Declan from what’s coming. But you’re wrong.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“Tomorrow morning, we contact Blackridge.” He settled into the chair across from her.
“We offer terms. Declan comes to the neutral waypoint with no pack at his side. He submits to questioning about border violations. He acknowledges Thornwood’s authority over disputed territory. In exchange, you go free.”
“He’ll never agree to that.” Sage held her voice steady despite the ice spreading through her.
“He will.” Garrett’s smile was cold. Not the politician’s smile from earlier.
Something narrower. “Because I’ve watched Declan Cross for four years.
I know every decision he’s made in a territorial dispute.
I know the three times he refused to engage when Jace ordered restraint and the two times he broke and acted anyway.
I know his one consistent override. When someone he’s responsible for is directly threatened? ”
He folded his hands. “When he believes you’re in real danger, his restraint fails? That’s the calculation I’ve been building toward. Not this year. Four years.”
The words landed with different weight than before. He’d built this deliberately, piece by piece.
“Once he arrives alone, we take him. Break him in front of witnesses. Prove that Blackridge’s fiercest wolf is just another wolf who can be controlled through the right pressure.”
The words hung in the air like poison. He was close enough to feel her horror at the trap being laid.
“You’re going to use me to destroy him.” She let the words land. Dead.
“I’m going to use your connection to demonstrate that emotional attachments are weaknesses.” Garrett stood. “That the mate bond makes wolves predictable. Controllable.”
“You’ll start a war.”
“I’ll end one before it begins.” He moved toward the door. “Blackridge keeps taking ground. Someone needs to remind them they can bleed.”
Valen followed Garrett out. But at the door, he paused. His attention caught on the repositioned chair and then at her. Something in his face acknowledged the move. Not approval. Recognition.
They both understood what the other was doing. He had probably started doing it in his first week on the job, reading every room for the one thing out of place. The habit had outlasted whatever pack he’d started in.
He left without saying anything. He didn’t need to.
The guards remained stationed outside. No more walks. No more casual observations. She was confined now, isolated until they were ready to spring their trap.
Sage sat in the darkness and let the bond carry Declan’s presence. He was so close. Maybe a mile away, maybe less. She could sense the predator urgency rising in him, the barely contained focus of his need to reach her. Not just to recover her. To act on what he’d received.
Don’t come alone, she sent. Not just a warning.
The specific shape of it. He’s been building toward this for four years.
He knows your override. He’s counting on it.
The bond went rigid as he received it. She could feel him go very still in a way that was different from his usual tactical stillness, the stillness of someone revising a fundamental assumption.