Chapter 20 Hudson
Hudson
Istare at the monitors in my office. The surveillance feeds flicker with life from around the compound in twelve different angles, twelve different stories unfolding. But my eyes keep returning to one particular screen.
Luna.
She throws her head back and laughs at something Oli said.
My chest tightens. I’ve never seen her laugh like that before. The Luna who arrived here a little over a month ago was all hard edges and suspicion, her eyes constantly scanning for exits, for threats. Her body language screamed that she expected to be hurt at any moment.
That female is barely recognizable in the one I’m watching now.
I adjust the volume on feed six. The tenants’ common area.
“…and then she said, ‘If I wanted something that small, I’d have ordered a kid’s meal!’” Luna’s voice comes through, clear and bright.
The group around her erupts in laughter. Mrs. Hendricks, our oldest tenant at eighty-seven, clutches her side, wheezing through her amusement. The younger ones look at Luna with undisguised admiration.
I take a sip of my now-cold coffee.
She’s good with them.
They understand each other’s pain.
My gaze shifts to feed three, where Axel leans against a tree, watching Luna from afar. Even from here, I can see the softness in his usually hard expression. He hasn’t looked that way since Emely. He was a different male back then; we all were before everything turned to shit.
“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand over my face.
Ethan appears on screen four, walking away from the group, but Luna waves at him enthusiastically as he leaves. His eyes warm as he waves back.
My men are falling for her, and not just physically. They’re courting her, each in their own way. Axel with his shooting classes and morning snuggles. Ethan with his small gestures, Oli with his videogames and friendship. Only Damien and I have stayed away.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the weight of what I’ve done, what I’m still doing, settle on my shoulders.
When they find out the truth, they’ll want my head. They’ll fucking kill me. And they’d be right to do it.
I open my eyes and force myself to look at her again. Luna belongs here. Anyone can see that. She fits in with the pack, the tenants, and this life we’ve built. But she doesn’t belong to us. She never did.
Never will.
My plan seemed so straightforward a month ago. Now it’s a fucking shit-show.
What I didn’t account for was how quickly she’d burrow under everyone’s skin—including mine.
A notification pops up on my laptop. Another report from our border guards. I click it open and scan the contents.
Nothing.
What the fuck is taking so long?
I look back at Luna, who’s helping one of the younger tenants, a girl of maybe sixteen. Luna points at something and explains, and the girl’s face lights up with understanding. I wonder if Luna knows how rare it is for Stella to accept help from anyone.
My phone buzzes. A text from Damien: “She’s winning them over. All of them.”
I don’t bother responding; that was never in doubt. But now my doubt is whether I can do what needs to be done when the time comes, whether I can sacrifice one to save the many.
Luna moves to feed five now, walking toward the makeshift outdoor kitchen we set up last summer. Oli trails behind her eagerly while Axel has disappeared from view entirely, but I know he’s there somewhere, watching.
“They’re already treating her like she’s theirs,” I mutter to the empty room.
And why wouldn’t they? She’s strong enough to challenge them, soft enough to care for them, damaged enough to understand them. In another life, in another world where Conrad and his father didn’t exist, she could have been perfect for them.
For us.
But we don’t live in that world.
I slam my laptop shut harder than necessary.
Pulling open my bottom drawer, I take out the folder marked only with an X.
Inside are the reports, the evidence, and the grim reality of what we’re facing.
This isn’t just some territorial dispute or petty power play.
This is an extinction-level threat that must be stopped at any cost.
And Luna is the key.
My wolf doesn’t like it. He perks up every time she smiles and snarls whenever I think of her as leverage. But I can’t afford to listen to him now.
I spread the photos across my desk. Files of children ripped from their families, mates torn apart… Bodies mutilated and scarred. I gather them back up quickly, shoveling them into the folder. This is why I have to stick to the plan. This is why I have to be the bad guy.
A sacrifice for the greater good, I remind myself.
The door to my office swings open without warning. I don’t need to look up to know it’s Damien. He’s the only one with the balls to enter without knocking. When I finally raise my head, I’m met with that face that gives nothing away except the slight curl at the corner of his mouth.
Damien Stone might hate everyone equally, but he reserves a special kind of amusement for my mistakes.
“Most people announce themselves,” I say, closing the file on my desk.
Damien drops into the chair opposite me, stretching his long legs to the side. “Most people aren’t me.” His eyes flick to my laptop, now shut, then back to my face. “Enjoying the show?”
I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Report.”
“You’ve got eyes. You saw.” He gestures vaguely toward the laptop. “She’s playing house with the tenants. They’re eating it up.”
“Details, Damien.”
He sighs dramatically as if providing actual information is beneath him.
“Fine. The old ladies think she’s a gift from God.
The kids follow her around like she’s the ice cream truck.
The younger tenants keep finding excuses to talk to her.
” He leans forward slightly. “And your two stooges can’t decide whether to fuck her or write her poetry.
It’s entertaining, I’ll give you that. But Oli is invested now.
And if you hurt him? I’ll fucking kill you. ”
I ignore the threat. It’s not the first time he’s made it. I keep my face neutral. “And the perimeter?”
Damien’s eyes narrow. “Secure for now.”
I nod. “Same as our patrols reported. Anything else?”
“She helped Mrs. Hendricks with her medication and started organizing some kind of weekly communal dinner.” He shrugs, but there’s something almost like respect in his voice. “She fits in. Just like we knew she would.”
“She’s good with people,” I agree.
“She’s good with our people,” Damien corrects. His expression hardens. “People who trust you. People who believe you have their best interests at heart.”
I lean back in my chair, meeting his stare. “I do.”
“Do you?” He tilts his head. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve dropped a live grenade into our home and are hoping the blast radius is controllable.”
“That’s a colorful metaphor.”
“You brought her here knowing what would happen. Knowing who would come for her.”
I don’t deny it. There’s no point.
“This plan…” He shakes his head. “This one’s going to cost us.”
“Some prices are necessary.”
“Easy for you to say when others are paying for it.” His eyes, like his brother’s but colder, harder, bore into mine. “You know I won’t protect you when this all goes to shit, right?”
“I never expected you to.”
Damien and I have known each other since we were kids. He’s seen me make hard decisions before, and he’s followed direct orders he has disagreed with. But this is different.
This involves his brother… and it involves her.
He was against this plan from the very beginning. He’s the only one who knows about it, for now.
“He’s coming,” I say finally. “Whether or not we brought her here. At least this way, we choose the battlefield.”
“And the casualties?” Damien asks, his voice dangerously soft. “Did you choose those, too? Everyone here believes this to be a sanctuary. You’re destroying everything we’ve built here.”
“I know the risks.”
“But they don’t. And she doesn’t.” He nods toward the window. “Did you tell her what she’s walking into? No, you didn’t. You just cleared her debt and let her think she was getting a fresh start by fucking our pack. That’s some fucking messed up shit.”
My silence is answer enough. Damien makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.
“That’s what I thought.” He moves toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “When it comes down to it, you’ll have to choose. And if that choice puts Oli or her in danger—.” He doesn’t finish the threat. He doesn’t need to.
“I understand,” I say, and I do. If our positions were reversed, I’d make the same threat.
“Good.” He opens the door and then looks back at me one last time. “She also made cookies with Mrs. Hendricks today. Chocolate chip. The old woman was smiling—actually smiling—for the first time since her grandson died.” His expression is unreadable. “Just so you know what you’re sacrificing.”
The door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds louder than if he’d slammed it.
I move back to my desk but don’t sit. My eyes fall on the photo I keep facedown in the corner: the six of us from when we were kids, when Emely was still alive.
Before she was violently killed.
Damien’s right. Luna has no idea what she’s walking into. None of them do, not really.
Either way, the choice has been made.
The plan is already in motion.
* * *
The door slams open so hard I’m surprised it stays on its hinges. Ethan storms in, his usual calm composure nowhere to be found. He’s got that look, the one that means someone’s about to get chewed out, and from the way he’s coming at me, it’s obvious who the target is.
“What the fuck did you do, Hudson?” His voice is low, lethal, not quite a snarl, but close enough.
I lean back in my chair. I knew this was coming.