Silence stretched for a beat, the fire crackling low between us.
Then Lucas shifted lazily in his chair, smirking.
"So..." he said.
"Let’s get some sleep?"
I blinked at him.
"Yeah. Let’s... do that."
I stood, moving toward the narrow bed without hesitation.
Lucas made no move to leave the chair.
I pointed sharply.
"You’ll sleep on the floor."
His smirk widened.
"Why? I’m not the one who paid for just one room."
I crossed my arms.
"We needed one room to plan and move faster. That doesn’t mean you get the bed."
He lounged back in the chair, grinning infuriatingly.
"Exactly. So maybe you should sleep on the floor."
I scowled.
"We are not debating this."
"We already are," he said, far too pleased with himself.
We argued for another few minutes —
quiet, sharp exchanges under our breath, trying not to draw attention through the thin walls.
In the end, Lucas grumbled something under his breath and spread out a blanket on the floor near the hearth.
I crawled into the bed — stiff, narrow, barely more comfortable than the ground — but it was a matter of principle now.
Lucas stretched out on the floor, folding his arms behind his head, looking far too relaxed for someone sleeping in dirt and ashes.
"Good night, Alpha," he said mockingly.
I rolled over, facing the wall, and ignored him.
The next night — we moved.
Our target was a sprawling estate tucked against the inner wall of the city:
Lord Everan’s private villa.
High stone walls.
Steel gates.
Private guards stationed discreetly among well-tended gardens.
And deeper inside —
The proof we needed.
We scaled the outer wall where the ivy grew thick, finding easy holds.
Lucas climbed first, fluid as smoke.
I followed, muscles coiled tight with tension.
We dropped silently into the gardens below, the scent of wet stone and iron thick in the night air.
The guards patrolled lazily.
Too used to safety.
Too unaware of the wolves slipping into their den.
We moved past the rose gardens, past the reflecting pools, staying low beneath trimmed hedges and heavy shadows.
There —
a lit window on the second floor.
Soft candlelight spilled across the balcony.
Two figures inside.
I crouched behind a marble statue, signaling to Lucas with two fingers.
He nodded once.
We moved.
The manor’s side door was locked.
Lucas produced a thin dagger, jimmied the latch with a quick, efficient twist.
Inside, the hallway smelled of burning wax and old parchment.
We slipped upstairs, hugging the walls.
Silent.
Invisible.
Predators among prey.
At the study door, I crouched low and peered through the crack.
Inside:
Lord Everan — tall, lean, dangerous — pacing behind a heavy oak desk.
And another man, cloaked in fine green robes, speaking in urgent, clipped whispers.
I strained to listen.
"—the shipment is ready. Two hundred blades, fifty crossbows, enough arrows to arm the entire eastern garrison."
Everan grunted.
"And the mercenaries?"
"Arriving within the week. Paid in full."
Lucas nudged me once — a sharp signal.
The cabinet in the corner. Proof.
I nodded and slipped inside the room, moving low and silent as a shadow.
Lucas followed, keeping guard near the doorway.
I reached the cabinet, flipping quickly through the ledgers and papers.
Trade records.
Supply manifests.
Then —
a sealed letter stamped with Everan’s personal crest.
My fingers closed around it just as—
The man in green turned.
His nostrils flared.
He caught our scent.
His eyes locked onto Lucas.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then—
"Intruders!" he bellowed, shifting mid-shout.
His form rippled — bones cracking, fur bursting along his arms —
a hulking beast snapping forward faster than human eyes could follow.
Everan roared behind him, shifting in a blink —
a massive gray wolf, battle-hardened and furious.
Lucas moved instantly.
He shifted mid-step — black fur ripping across his body — and slammed into the green-robed wolf with brutal force, sending them both crashing through a bookcase.
Wood splintered.
Parchment flew.
I shifted too, my body snapping into my wolf form in a single savage breath.
Pain burned.
Strength flooded.
I launched myself at Everan just as he lunged toward me, fangs flashing.
We collided in a whirl of snapping jaws and clawed strikes.
He was strong —
older, heavier —
but I was faster.
I ducked under his jaws, raked my claws along his ribs, and spun away before he could counter.
Lucas grappled with the green-robed wolf, their bodies slamming against walls and pillars in a furious blur.
He fought like he moved —
precise.
Deadly.
Effortless.
A quick snap of his jaws tore the green-robed wolf’s shoulder open, sending him crashing to the floor.
Lucas turned instantly, blood dripping from his muzzle, locking eyes with me.
Now.
We didn’t linger.
We didn’t finish the fight.
That wasn’t the mission.
With the sealed letter still tucked against my side, we turned and sprinted.
Fast.
Faster than sound.
Through the study.
Down the stairs.
Guards roared below — too slow.
We burst through the side door in a black blur, vaulted the garden walls, and vanished into the night.
We didn’t stop running until the villa was a distant smear behind us, swallowed by mist and darkness.
Only then did we shift back — panting, bloodied, alive.
I pressed a hand against my ribs, feeling the sharp ache of bruises, but no deep wounds.
Lucas wiped blood from his mouth, flashing me a feral grin.
"You get it?" he rasped.
I pulled the letter from inside my cloak, the King’s brother’s crest glinting under the stars.
"I got it."
He sighed with relief. Now that was out of the way, we had other things to worry about, like my injuries.