Chapter 30 Sable
SABLE
While the other shifters partied, the past two hours with Bart had given me an education in supernatural politics no Crux training could have prepared me for.
The real event hadn’t even started yet, and I wondered what else I’d learn that could help me track kidnapped and trafficked Crux.
Hunched around the conference table, maps shimmering with magical border lines as Logan and Bart discussed the systematic destruction of pack independence, I was angry.
The corruption was bad. What was getting to me even more was the loyalty to Orion growing in my bones. I was offended on their behalf.
They’re our pack now, too, my wolf growled.
His protective instincts were running hot, and I was again realizing just how wrong I had been about him.
My hybrid senses still screamed warnings about the darkness coiled beneath his surface—the soulless dark void that had knocked me back the first time I touched him.
Watching him, I couldn’t reconcile that threat with the man who was fiercely protective of his pack, his alpha, and his mate.
Me.
When Bart traced the territorial boundaries with his massive finger, showing us how the major coalitions had carved up smaller packs, I leaned forward without thinking.
My heritage was picking up on micro-expressions, scent changes, the barely perceptible tells that indicated when someone was holding back information.
“What about neutral territories?” I asked, because someone needed to voice what we were all thinking. “Packs that don’t align with the major coalitions?”
“Absorbed or put to work,” Bart answered, and the bitter truth in his scent confirmed it.
The Crux had always been neutral. Useful to everyone, loyal to none, our true allegiances hidden. Watching Logan’s rage as he learned how his people had been systematically erased from supernatural politics, I wanted to fight for him, for Orion.
Not for survival or strategic advantage, but because it was right. Because Orion would actually rule, and they would do it fairly.
I was hyperaware of the bonds that gave me multiple loyalties. The mate bond with Rhys hummed throughout my body, pleased we remained so physically close. And there was the pack bond with Orion, Logan at the helm.
Logan was my alpha by magic, but my bond with Rhys couldn’t be complete unless I chose to stand with them both against whatever came next.
And at the same time, Eve was my alpha. My wolf didn’t question this dual loyalty—it was plain as day to her.
Logan and Eve were one through their bond.
Bart looked at a clock that hung over the door. “The agenda-setting session will be starting soon. It’s the kickoff to the event, and most packs will already be there.” He sighed. “We’ll be making quite the entrance.”
He led us to the assembly room, where the transformation of the delegates was jarring—rigid formality replacing hedonistic chaos. Ceremonial banners were rolled out with pack symbols painted across them. The air crackled with hostility masquerading as diplomatic protocol.
Bart led us in, straight to the stage, where a man sat in an oversized armchair.
“Have the search parties located all the missing packs?” he asked Bart and lifted his nose. The corners of his mouth turned down as he hissed, “Well.”
Bart cleared his throat. “Found an old friend wandering the halls, Father.” He’d said it casually, though the implications that rippled through the assembled crowd were anything but.
“Alpha Thorne.” Logan tilted his head in greeting, but didn’t break eye contact, giving no sign of submission.
Whispers spread outward in concentric circles of shock and anxiety, and my hybrid nature picked it all up. I tracked the reactions: adrenaline spikes, territorial aggression, hearts racing as supernatural beings processed the implications of Orion’s return.
There was guilt here. The signature scent of beings who’d done something they knew was wrong and were about to face the consequences.
Near the stage in one of the front rows, the Cassiopeia delegation sat still. Their alpha, Emmanuel Vex, watched Logan, seemingly measuring his weaknesses. Or maybe planning his destruction. Emmanuel Vex was not known for his benevolence. Far from it.
My vampire nature stirred. I’d seen that look before so many times when I’d rescued Crux sisters from the grip of oppressors. It was the expression of someone who viewed other beings as resources to be consumed or obstacles to be eliminated.
Alpha Thorne muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Logan Orion. It’s been some time.”
“Alpha Thorne,” Logan replied, standing firm and showing no sign of concern about the several hundred beings with hostile intent around him.
Through the bond, I felt Rhys’s wolf bristle, but he was also bursting with pride. He was watching his brother face down hundreds of supernatural beings who wanted him dead or gone, and Logan wasn’t backing down.
Neither were we.
The silence stretched until individual heartbeats became audible. My vampire hearing picked up whispered conversations in a dozen different tongues, urgent communications between delegates who were recalculating political positions in real time.
The guilt and fear in this room, the evidence of systematic oppression and pack destruction… It was time for some things to burn.
Then I felt it—the moment when Logan’s alpha power began to build. Authority that had been honed by years of holding a dying pack together through sheer force of will.
The pack bond between us flared in response, and simultaneously, through the mate bond, I felt Rhys’s savage satisfaction as he recognized the same thing. We’d wanted to make an entrance. Mission accomplished.
Logan stepped forward, his alpha presence filling the room until even the most powerful delegates felt the weight of his authority.
“Fellow alphas, Orion was exiled from this council by force.” He faced the packs. “Our absence was not willful but enacted upon us, the invitations never forthcoming. When I became alpha of Orion, I sent my brothers to represent us.”
A hush came over the crowd.
“And they never came back.”
Several delegates from smaller packs leaned forward, recognizing something they’d been waiting to hear.
“I have not forgotten that treachery. Our exile became an opportunity for certain parties to redistribute territories, eliminate neutral voices, and transform this Council from a governing body into a protection racket.” Logan’s gaze swept across the Cassiopeia delegation, who were shooting daggers at him.
“Seven packs have simply vanished from Council records. Dozens more have been reduced to puppet votes or absorbed entirely.”
Alpha Thorne’s jaw tightened. “The Accords were negotiated in good faith—”
“The Orion Accords,” Logan interrupted, “were negotiated behind my back. While my pack was dying. While a curse ate at us and others profited from our weakness. We focused on survival, and this Council forgot what it was supposed to protect.” His alpha power pulsed outward, making lesser wolves instinctively lower their eyes in submission. “We remember.”
Near the back of the room, representatives from smaller packs exchanged meaningful glances. The Tucana delegation sat up straighter. Even some of the Andromeda wolves, reduced to puppet status according to Bart, sat taller in their seats.
“The curse that weakened Orion has been broken,” Logan continued, and the lie rang with such conviction that even I almost believed it.
“Our bloodline runs strong again. Our territory is secure. We have banded together with Heraclid pack, one of the most powerful packs in the north. And we return to reclaim our place in supernatural governance—not as supplicants, but as the power we’ve always been. ”
The Cassiopeia alpha rose smoothly. “Bold words from a pack that couldn’t protect its own. Where’s your alpha father, Logan?”
Logan’s smile was sharp enough to draw blood. “Bolder still from a pack that needed our absence to claim territories they couldn’t take by force.” He paused, letting the insult settle. “Tell me, Emmanuel, how many of those ‘hunting accidents’ were actually accidents?”
The accusation hit the room hard. Gasps erupted from the smaller delegations. Several pack representatives were on their feet, ancient grievances suddenly given voice.
“The Lyra pack lost its luna after refusing Cassiopeia hunting rights,” called out a voice from the middle of the room.
“Centaurus was absorbed after their beta died in a ‘territorial dispute,’” added another.
Emmanuel Vex’s composure cracked slightly. “Orion seeks to destabilize this Council with baseless accusations—”
“Orion seeks justice for systematic pack elimination,” Logan cut him off.
“And we’re not alone.” His gaze swept the assembly room, finding the smaller pack representatives who were watching the exchange with predatory interest. “Every pack that’s lost territory, every delegation that’s been silenced, every neutral voice that’s been eliminated—we remember.
And we’re done pretending this Council represents anything but the interests of its most ruthless members. ”
The chamber erupted. Shouts of agreement came from the back rows, snarls of challenge from the major coalitions, and there was the sound of chairs scraping as delegates chose sides.
Through the bond, Rhys’s fierce satisfaction mixed with battle-ready tension. Logan hadn’t just announced Orion’s return—he’d declared war on the power structure that had thrived in our absence.
Suddenly, the Crux bond ignited in me without warning.
Silver threads of ancient power blazed to life in my consciousness, connecting me to wolves who should have been hundreds of miles away. Two familiar presences materialized directly behind me, invisible to everyone else in the room but vivid as lightning through our supernatural connection.
Eve. Astrid.
My hybrid nature sensed their arrival while my newly formed pack loyalties screamed alerts. They were supposed to be coordinating Orion defenses back home, not infiltrating a heavily warded government facility during a diplomatic crisis.
Through our bond, Rhys’s attention turned to me as my pulse spiked.
Easy, he sent, warmth flowing along our connection. Logan’s got this handled.
His wolf was interpreting my sudden tension as anxiety about the political situation surrounding us. But this was about my Crux sisters appearing in the heart of enemy territory for reasons that couldn’t be good.
Astrid’s abilities wrapped around her and Eve in layers of misdirection so sophisticated it made my vampire heritage take notice.
She was creating a special kind of invisibility—she was becoming what everyone expected to see.
Wallpaper. Background noise. A forgettable nature that supernatural senses would dismiss as unimportant.
I turned to find them standing right behind me.
The control required to sustain that kind of illusion was staggering. I had completely underestimated Astrid.
I quickly turned my attention back to the drama in the room. I didn’t want to risk breaking Astrid’s illusion.
You’re a sight for sore eyes, Astrid sent to me through the bond. And legs. Do you know how hard it is to find a hidden underground government structure in Dallas? I’m tired.
A cloak lifted the moment you three left Orion territory, Eve sent. It was the first time both Logan and Rhys had been off Orion territory since I arrived. I think the curse follows them. As soon as they were gone, I sensed shifters in distress. Crux among them. And they were coming here.
A cloak. A magical dampening field that had been suppressing Eve’s oracle abilities within our own borders as long as the cursed brothers were there.
Where are the Crux? I asked through the bond, watching Rhys to see if he sensed my connection with Eve and Astrid. He didn’t move. He was following the shouts and accusations between delegations.
Transport convoy, on its way here. Shifters being prepared for auction tomorrow. Each word held oracle certainty, the kind of prophetic knowledge that left no room for doubt.
An auction. Supernatural slavery wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, but I’d seen enough to know that official policies and underground realities were two very different things.
My mind immediately began making tactical calculations.
Through the mate bond, I felt Rhys’s concern grow as my tension turned predatory. My scent was changing, betraying my anger.
Sable, he sent, confusion winding through our connection. What’s happening? You feel like you’re about to tear someone’s throat out.
I caught his golden eyes, seeing protective worry warring with the need to support Logan’s crucial moment. Alpha Thorne was beginning formal pronouncements about Council procedures for agenda confirmation, ignoring the crisis unfolding in conversations around the room.
Behind me, Eve’s presence pulsed again through the bond—a warning to maintain silence. When I risked the briefest glance at her, her finger was pressed to her lips.
The message was clear: not here, not now, not in front of hundreds of supernatural beings who might be complicit in whatever was happening to those prisoners.
Transport arrives in ninety minutes, Astrid’s voice whispered through the bond, her abilities allowing her to communicate without breaking her illusion. If we don’t intercept them tonight…
The unfinished sentence hung in the air. Tomorrow’s auction would scatter those prisoners across supernatural networks that could take decades to trace. Some would disappear entirely, absorbed into private collections or breeding programs that existed in the darkest corners of our world. Or worse.
Orion. Crux. Rhys. I was caught between three different loyalties, three different bonds, three different crises converging in ways that could destroy everything we’d worked to build.
Logan was preparing to reclaim Orion’s place in supernatural governance. In the audience, hundreds of pack leaders debated territorial boundaries while Crux prisoners in chains dreaded their fate.
The auction was tomorrow. The transport was tonight.
And somewhere in this room sat the supernatural beings responsible for maintaining a trafficking network that operated under the noses of their supposed colleagues.
I had to decide which bond I was willing to break.