Chapter 56

Dawn broke over Silver Lake with muted gray light, the sun struggling to penetrate heavy clouds that promised rain. The mood in the main house matched the weather – tense and foreboding as we finalized preparations for our journey.

"Everything's packed except your new ceremonial items," Luna Elena informed me as servants carried luggage to the waiting vehicles. "They'll require a separate container to protect them properly."

She surveyed the growing pile of elegant boxes and bags – all the gifts she'd purchased over the past days. "These belong to our family's Luna," she stated firmly, her voice carrying deliberately to where Giana stood checking her own meager luggage. "They represent traditions that must be preserved."

Elena's eyes held mine for a meaningful moment, and I understood the subtext beneath her words. These weren't merely gifts; they were a deliberate investment in my status, a clear indication of where the former Alpha family's loyalties lay despite Raymond's choices.

Alpha Marcus joined us, reviewing security arrangements one final time. "Travel formation has been adjusted based on Kane's intelligence," he explained, indicating positions on a detailed map spread across the antique table. "Elena and I will take the lead vehicle with Giana."

I nodded, then realized what he'd said. "Aren't I traveling with you as well?"

Marcus shook his head, his expression regretful but determined. "The second car will appear to carry you, but will actually function as a decoy. You'll follow in the third vehicle with your ceremonial items. The extra separation provides additional security."

"We'll use Garrett as your driver in the decoy," Elena added, referring to a trusted Beta from Silver Lake's security team. "He has similar coloring to you when viewed from a distance."

The strategic adjustment made sense, though I felt uneasy about traveling alone. "The rogues may target what they believe is my vehicle," I observed, a chill running down my spine at the thought.

"Precisely," Marcus confirmed. "Which is why you'll be safely distanced from the most obvious target. The third vehicle is less conspicuous – a simple transport rather than an official pack car."

I glanced through the window at the modest SUV that would carry me back to Blood Moon territory. It looked solid and reliable, nothing like the sleek official vehicles that usually transported pack leadership.

An hour later, our convoy departed Silver Lake under heavy cloud cover that only intensified the mountain's natural shadows. The winding road curved through dense forest before beginning its descent toward the valley that would eventually lead to Blood Moon territory.

I cautiously drove, watching the decoy car ahead while scanning the rocky terrain for movement. The isolation felt oppressive despite its logical security. I wondered where Kane was in relation to our convoy and if he was observing from a hidden vantage point along the route.

As we navigated a steep section, I noticed movement in my rearview mirror – another vehicle following at a distance. It appeared briefly before disappearing around a bend, maintaining deliberate spacing. Its dark windows blocked my view of the occupants, but instinct indicated this was no random traveler.

I reached for my phone to alert Marcus and Elena, but there was no signal. The mountains blocked transmission, isolating me. A flutter of panic rose in my chest before I forced it down, reminding myself of my training: Stay calm. Think clearly. Follow protocol.

The mountain pass narrowed, barely wide enough for a vehicle as it curved around sheer cliffs. Jagged rock walls rose on one side, while a stomach-churning drop into misty chasms awaited on the other. The guardrails seemed pitifully inadequate – thin metal barriers between life and death.

I tested my brakes on a straight section, pressing down to gauge their responsiveness. Immediately, I felt something was wrong. The pedal required more pressure than usual, and the car's response was sluggish.

A knot of dread formed as I recalled Giana's suspicious behavior in the garage – her startled expression when I found her bent over the hood of this vehicle.

"Just checking that everything's ready for tomorrow," she had claimed with a too-bright smile that didn't reach her calculating eyes.

My phone suddenly lit up – we'd entered a small pocket of reception between the mountains. Kane's name flashed on the screen and I answered immediately, relief flooding through me at the sound of his voice.

"Aurora? I've been trying to reach you for hours. Where are you?"

"Eastern mountain pass, about halfway down," I replied, handling the vehicle with increasing concern as it responded more sluggishly with each curve. "Kane, something's wrong with my car. The brakes aren't responding normally."

His voice sharpened instantly. "Pull over at the first safe spot," he urged. "Don't wait – something's very wrong. I've been tracking a rogue scout who was examining vehicles at the retreat last night."

My heart raced at the confirmation of my fears. "There's nowhere to stop here," I told him, eyeing the narrow road with its sheer drop on one side. "The pass is too tight."

Before I could speak further, the lead vehicle suddenly sped up, moving unsafely on the treacherous road. I had to accelerate to maintain formation, my hands white-knuckled on the wheel as we navigated tight turns with less room for error.

"I can't stop now," I told Kane, fear evident in my voice. "The road's too narrow and the lead car is pulling ahead. I don't understand why they're going so fast."

Through my rearview mirror, I spotted the following vehicle gaining ground – clearly tracking our convoy rather than randomly traveling the same route. The tinted windows made it impossible to identify the driver, but something about its deliberate pursuit sent shivers down my spine.

"Downshift to control your speed," Kane instructed, his voice tense but controlled. "Use your gears to slow down rather than relying on the brakes. You need to create distance between yourself and whoever's following you."

I followed his guidance, feeling slightly more in control as the engine's resistance aided our descent. Each curve came faster, requiring more strength to navigate safely. The steering felt unresponsive, as if something were failing in the vehicle's control systems.

"Kane, I think the brakes have been tampered with," I said, voicing the suspicion that had been building since the garage. "Giana was examining my car last night. I caught her closing the hood when I approached."

"I'm closing in on your position," he promised, determination evident in every word. "Just stay alive until I get there. I'm about ten minutes behind you on the eastern approach."

Rain began to fall, fat drops splattering against the windshield and further reducing visibility on the already treacherous road. The wipers squeaked rhythmically, struggling to clear the glass as the downpour intensified with each passing minute.

As we neared a sharp curve, I glanced at the lead vehicle and saw Giana's face in the rear window. She was watching me with a strange smile that sent ice through my veins. There was no concern or surprise at our increasing speed – only a cold satisfaction that confirmed my worst fears.

This was no accident. This was planned.

I pressed the brake pedal as we entered the curve, feeling it sink to the floor with horrifying ease. No resistance. No response. The car continued its forward momentum, actually accelerating on the downward slope.

"Kane, the brakes are gone!" I cried, fighting the wheel as the car accelerated toward the cliff edge. Panic surged through me as the vehicle fishtailed, tires struggling for purchase on the winding mountain road now slick with rain.

"Downshift all the way!" Kane's voice commanded through the phone. "Use the emergency brake if you have to! Look for something to crash into that will stop you without sending you over the edge!"

My eyes scanned the approaching terrain desperately, seeking any option that might save me. About fifty yards ahead, a rocky outcropping jutted from the mountain wall – positioned such that hitting it might stop the car without sending me over the precipice.

The car careened toward the guardrail, metal barriers that seemed woefully inadequate against our momentum. I yanked the emergency brake with one hand while wrestling the wheel with the other, the vehicle sliding sideways in a sickening motion toward the precipice.

Kane's voice called my name, desperate and distant as the phone tumbled from my grip. I found myself desperately praying to the Moon Goddess for mercy, as the car slid widely.