"Hands where we can see them!"
"Down on your knees!"
"Now!"
The command rent through the night as dozen of men in black tactical gear burst out of the tree line with rifles raised and bright torches cutting through the dark.
"They’re wolves!" one of the soldiers yelled into a comm.
That was all it took. A second later, the entire perimeter was filled with movement as armed units surrounded them, their weapons pointed at them, lasers painting glowing red targets across their chests.
Alaric didn’t bother to fight. None of them did. They did nothing wrong. So one by one, they dropped to their knees with their hands raised and their eyes fixed ahead. The forest fell silent but for the sound of barking orders and boots crunching against leaves.
They cuffed them, the cold metal biting into their wrists. This wasn’t ordinary cuffs but suppressors designed to numb the wolf, and sever the connection to their inner beast completely.
The disorientation hit them.
Asher felt it first, his shoulders sagging like someone had knocked the wind out of him. Alaric winced, his wolf’s presence suddenly dull and distant, like a voice screaming underwater. The connection was gone.
"Clear!" a soldier called out, and then came the dragging.
Each of them were hauled to their feet, none too gently, and shoved toward the armored vehicles waiting beyond the trees. Floodlights hummed above the clearing, showing the way.
It wasn’t until they cleared the last of the forest that the true scale of what happened hit them.
"Holy shit..." Micah stopped in his tracks.
The others saw it as well.
The Pine Ridge Lodge was gone. Yes, it was completely leveled to the ground.
Asher and Alaric shared a look of shock, unable to believe Violet had done that. However, they quickly schooled their expressions as the soldiers dragged them along.
The explosion hadn’t reached the outside of the property, but the force of it had done plenty of damage. Thankfully, no one lived close by and there was no loss of human life — that didn’t deserve it.
More torchlights swept across the ruins as soldiers fanned out, checking for survivors—or bodies — sirens wailing in the distance. Drones hovered overhead, cameras blinking red. The place was crawling.
Asher had no idea if any of Patrick’s men survived but he sincerely hoped they all died in that explosion.
—-----------
Patrick paced up and down the room.
From the velvet couch, Moira sipped her wine lazily, her eyes never leaving her twitching son. "You’re starting to make me dizzy, dear."
Patrick waved her off without breaking stride. "I think better this way."
"Think or losing it?" Vera murmured, balancing a silver knife between two fingers.
Joseph reclined with his boots on the ottoman, his expression bored as he watched the family theater unfold.
Then the knife flew without warning and
Patrick froze. The blade had grazed the side of his neck before embedding in the wooden column behind him with a satisfying thunk. A thin line of blood welled up at once.
Vera stood up in one smooth motion, her grin feral. "Oops."
She sauntered toward him, hips swaying in that dangerous way of hers, plucked the knife from the wall, then wiped the small smear of red from his throat with her thumb. Without breaking eye contact, she licked it.
"There," she purred. "That should calm you down."
Patrick, ever the analyst, recognized the message behind her theatrics.
Sit down.
And he obeyed.
Sometimes he wondered how he came out of the same womb that bore her.
Joseph chuckled and poured him a generous glass of wine. "Easy, brother," he said, handing it over. "We’d like to keep your blood inside you at least for now."
Patrick drank it all in one long gulp.
Moira sighed, resting her head back against the couch cushions. "With the number of men we pulled in tonight, they’ll surely gut those arrogant pups. Once the Alphas lose their precious heirs, picking the rest of the pack off will be easy."
Vera twirled her knife again. "Tch. We should’ve just pumped a few of the men full of Ignis and let them rip through the forest like bombs. It would have been faster and interesting, don’t you think?."
Patrick shot her a pointed look. "You do realize that drug is not your personal party favor, don’t you? We need it for the bigger picture."
Vera rolled her eyes, undeterred. "You’re no fun."
Joseph raised his glass again, swirling the wine before taking a sip. "Last report we got said the Hulk Alpha was down. Good riddance. If he’s out, the rest won’t last long. Unless they’ve suddenly acquired teleportation powers, there’s no way they’re getting out of that place crawling with our men alive."
He poured himself another drink, grinning wide. "We’ll be popping bottles by dawn."
Silence fell briefly over the room, the only sound the soft clink of glass.
Patrick, however, wasn’t smiling. His eyes were distant, like a man retracing steps in his mind, chasing an answer he couldn’t quite touch.
His siblings didn’t know the cardinal alphas as much as he knew them. Those "arrogant pups" were tenacious than they gave them credit for.
Moira narrowed her eyes at him. "What exactly do you want with that girl, Violet? She isn’t even as valuable as the cardinal alphas and yet, you ordered them dead. What could you possibly gain with the girl?"
"That is what I intend to find out." Patrick said, his eyes shinning with anticipation.
His brother and sister exchanged a look, then Vera made one of her usual crazy hand gestures and Joseph laughed. They’d always underestimated him like that. But look at him now, pulling the big moves.
"There is something about her that I must confirm. She’s more than she seems. I need her."
Moira exhaled through her nose. "Need, or obsess over?"
Patrick’s lips smirked. "Maybe both."
Vera let out a delighted laugh. "You’ve officially lost it, brother. And I love it."
Joseph raised his glass. "To Violet, then. May our humble Alpha Henry bring her back in one piece or close enough."
Vera, Moira and Joseph clinked their glasses.
Then Patrick’s phone rang.
A second later, Joseph’s buzzed, then followed by Moira’s, and finally, Vera’s.
They froze, glancing at each other. No one said a word, but the decision was mutual.
Patrick answered first.
"Hello? How’s it going...?"