Chapter 35 Cassidy
CASSIDY
The trails are quieter after a fight.
The forest doesn't do peaceful after a night like this, it does watchful, every sound landing with more weight than usual. But the hunters are gone, and the pack has pulled back to the mansion.
The access road is mine for a little while with just a radio and my field kit and the methodical work of checking every position we marked when the traps were set.
I find two more steel-jaw traps in the southern corridor, both unsprung, both set on wolf trails that I know by heart now.
I disable them the same way I've disabled every other, and log the positions on my GPS.
The ground around the second trap has fresh boot prints that don't match any pack member's tread pattern.
Someone was here recently, checking their work, and left before the convoy pushed onto the property.
I make a note of that for Ciaran.
Graves is already at the property line when I get there, standing beside his cruiser with a coffee travel mug and the expression that says he’s been awake all night, and there isn’t enough coffee in the world.
"Dr. Ellis," he says. "Hell of a night."
"Eventful," I agree. "What do you have?"
He pulls a notepad from his jacket. "Two arrests in town.
A motel on the county road had four individuals who matched descriptions from your photos.
We are charging them with conspiracy to trespass on posted private land, felony weapons violations, one of them had priors in two other states.
" He flips a page. "I called in state troopers to shadow the convoy leaving town.
They got plates on every vehicle, driver IDs, weapon registration checks in progress.
" He taps the notepad against his palm. "If any of these people try to come back, we'll know who they are before they hit the county line. "
"Any of them connected to out-of-state organizations?" I ask. "Hunting syndicates, land acquisition groups?"
"Ww are working on the details," he says. "The two in custody aren't talking yet, but one of them had a burner phone and a contact list that my tech deputy is very interested in." He looks at me over his mug. "You want to tell me what all of this was really about?"
"Land," I say, which is true. "The Blackmoore estate is fifteen thousand acres of unincorporated mountain territory. Certain organizations prefer that kind of land to not have a clear private ownership structure."
He studies me for a moment. "And Mr. Blackmoore's family has held that land for how long?"
"Four generations," I say.
Graves nods slowly. "Tell him the state troopers will have a full incident report to his legal team by end of week." He picks up his mug. "And tell him I'd appreciate it if things stayed quiet on that mountain for a while."
"I'll pass that along," I say.
He nods again and gets back in the cruiser, and I watch him pull a U-turn and head back down the county road before I turn toward the tree line.
The mansion is running on the high of their victory—people moving, voices checking in, the low sustained activity of a pack that's been through something and is processing it through work. Ciaran meets me at the inner gate, which means he was watching for me.
"How was your trail sweep?" he asks.
"I found two more traps in the southern corridor." I hand him the GPS log. "And a fresh boot print near the second one that doesn't match a pack member. Someone was checking the placement recently."
"How recently?"
"Last forty-eight hours based on the definition and degradation." I watch him scan the log. "Graves made two arrests in town, got plates and IDs on the convoy, state troopers involved. He's building a paper trail on the out-of-state syndicate connection."
"Good." He looks up. "Brynn wants the council assembled within the hour."
I look at him. "The Luna vote?"
"The Luna vote,” he confirms with a heavy nod.
"How do you think it will go?" I ask.
"It depends on who speaks," he says. "And in what order." He hands the GPS log back to me. "You should bring what you have. Whatever you planned to say—say it."
He walks away before I can ask him what he thinks I planned to say, which is either very Ciaran or a very deliberate choice. Probably both.
I find Alden in the war room, standing over the terrain maps with his jacket still on and the bandage on his shoulder showing a faint dark stain through the fabric.
"Have you seen Ansel yet?” I poke the injury and he pulls back with a hiss.
"What was that for?" he asks.
"A reminder to get yourself medical attention.” I glare at him.
“No time for that." He waves me off. “Besides, if I didn’t pull the stitches stopping that hunter, you’d be shot.”
I feel my torso and give Alden a fake, surprised look. “I’m not shot, but you still have pulled stitches.”
“I’ll go to Ansel after the council vote.”
“Alden, what’s the point of everything we did to protect each other if you’re going to let yourself die of gangrene?” I poke his chest. “You have an hour before the council meeting.”
He gives me a playful grin. “Fine, you’ve convinced me.”
The stone clearing fills in the morning light with a different quality than it had under the Blood Moon.
The ritual stones are just stones now, the torch brackets empty, the council assembled in the arc with the practical clothes.
They looked tired, bags under the eyes, disheveled hair.
No one got much rest after the battle. .
I stand at the center.
The braid is still neat against my head and over my shoulder. I kept it because it meant so much that Alden wanted me to carry that symbolism.
Ronan notices it immediately. His eyes move from the braid to Alden, standing by the central pillar, and his expression tightens and he turns up his nose.
"The Luna Braid," Ronan says, and the words carry to the outer ring. "You gave her the Luna Braid before the vote was cast."
"I gave my mate a braid before a battle," Alden says. "The vote doesn't change what she is to me."
"It changes what she is to us," Ronan says.
"That's what the vote is for," Alden says.
Lydia steps forward before Ronan can continue.
"The law does not forbid a human mate. We've acknowledged that.
" Her voice is measured. "What it doesn't address is whether a human can serve as Luna effectively.
That's a function, not a status. The Luna guides, mediates, represents pack interests.
It requires someone who understands the pack from the inside. "
"I've been inside this pack for months," I say.
"I know your patrol corridors, your archive records, your blood disputes, and your council law.
I've stitched wounds, documented evidence, escorted your children to a cave system, and met with the sheriff on your behalf.
" I look at Lydia directly. "At what point does inside count? "
She doesn't answer immediately.
"Show us something," Reid says from the younger council arc. He's not challenging—he's genuinely asking. "You keep presenting evidence and intelligence. You clearly know how to build a case. What would you do as Luna?"
I pull folded papers from my vest.
"A documented cooperation framework," I say, spreading the pages on the flat surface of the central stone.
"A long-term plan for stable relations between Blackmoore pack and the surrounding community.
Gradual integration of pack members into town infrastructure—businesses, services, civic presence—in ways that build goodwill without exposure.
" I tap the second page. "An early warning network for hunter and outside threat activity, using existing human contacts like Graves and the state wildlife office.
A protocol for when humans get too close to pack territory—how to redirect, how to de-escalate, how to use legal channels before the problem becomes physical.
" I look along the arc. "What happened with the syndicate won't be the last time someone looks at this land and sees an opportunity.
You need someone who can operate in human systems to close those gaps before they open. "
Alden steps in. "The pack doesn't survive on isolation.
We've proven that and it gave Gideon room to operate, because nobody was watching the boundaries from both sides.
" He looks around the arc. "Cassidy is the boundary.
She is the thing the pack hasn't had—someone who can move in both worlds and report what she finds in either one. "
Three of the younger wolves in the outer ring nod.
"He's right," one of them says. A young enforcer, twenty years old at most. "We've been losing ground to outside threats because we don't know how they see us. She knows."
"Times change," another says. "The pack that doesn't change with them doesn't last."
Ronan's expression shifts from displeasure to something harder. "You'd hand the future of this pack to sentiment and a human biologist?"
"I'd hand a function to someone qualified for it," Reid says calmly. “Cassidy has proven herself.”
The argument might have continued. Might have circled back through the same positions for another rotation. But Kieran's guard steps forward and Kieran himself steps with him, wrists still bound, the residual grogginess of his detainment sitting in the lines around his eyes.
"I have something to say," Kieran says.
The clearing goes quiet.
"My father told me the pack was weakened," he says.
"He said Alden was a weak leader, and having a human mate confirmed it.
" He looks at the ground for a moment, then back up.
" I watched what happened last night. I watched Alden command a defense with a shoulder that should have kept him off the field.
I watched Cassidy guide the elders and the children to safety through terrain she memorized because she prepared for the worst." He looks at me.
"My father's pack was strong because it was afraid of what it might lose.
That's not strength. That's just fear. What I saw last night was strength from both of them. "
The clearing doesn't erupt. It shifts—Kieran’s words more powerful than expected.
Brynn was still through all of it, staff planted, eyes moving from speaker to speaker with practiced patience and active listening. Someone who absorbs everything that’s said with an unbiased ear. She looks at me.
"Are you prepared to stand for the vote?" she asks.
"Yes," I say.
I feel Alden beside me, but I don’t look at him, because I don’t feel the strength he needs me to show right now, and I don’t want to waver under his gaze.
Brynn raises her staff. "The vote is called for Dr. Cassidy Ellis as Luna of the Blackmoore pack is now open. Cast your ballads, and we will review them tonight.”