Chapter 74
"My sources have tracked Lydia to an isolated cabin in the neutral territory," Kane explained, spreading a map across the table. "If we move quickly, we might catch her before she relocates again."
The map was marked with meticulous precision, Kane's intelligence training evident in the detailed notations about patrol schedules and territorial boundaries. His finger traced a winding path through the forest, avoiding known checkpoints.
I studied the route, noting its proximity to areas known for rogue activity. "It's dangerous territory," I observed. "Especially with rogues still patrolling after the recent attacks."
"Which is why I should go alone," Kane said seriously.
"Absolutely not," I countered immediately. "We do this together or not at all."
Something flickered in Kane's eyes—concern mixed with what might have been pride. "You're still recovering from your injuries," he reminded me gently.
"I'm strong enough," I insisted, touching the silver cane he'd given me. "Besides, we work better as a team."
The silver crescent at my neck warmed slightly, as if confirming my words. Kane's eyes dropped to it briefly, his expression softening.
"The Luna would typically remain safely within pack boundaries," he said, a last attempt at dissuasion.
I raised an eyebrow. "I think we've established I'm not a typical Luna."
Kane's resistance crumbled. "We leave at dawn," he conceded. "But promise me you'll be careful."
"Always," I replied with a small smile.
We spent the evening preparing, gathering supplies and reviewing maps. Kane retrieved specialized equipment from a hidden compartment—communication devices, silver-infused weapons, and protective charms I'd never seen before.
"The Alpha King's security division developed these," he explained, showing me a small pendant designed to mask our scents. "They're not foolproof, but they'll confuse tracking attempts."
Before departing at dawn, Kane caught my arm, his expression unusually serious.
"Be careful," he told me, his hand lingering on my arm longer than necessary.
"I’m always careful," I responded with a confident grin. He rolled his eyes, but his face softened with fondness.
We slipped away through a rarely used service entrance, taking separate paths before meeting at our arranged rendezvous point. Kane had disguised himself efficiently, his distinctive clothing replaced by nondescript traveling gear.
The journey required utmost caution, with both Blood Moon wolves and rogues patrolling the borders. Kane moved with silent grace through the forest, and I followed his lead, grateful for years of training that allowed me to match his stealth despite my healing injuries.
At one point, we had to hide from a patrol, pressed together in the hollow of an ancient tree. His arms encircled me protectively, our breathing synchronized as we waited for danger to pass. In those silent moments, I became acutely aware of how natural it felt to trust him completely with my safety.
"They're gone," he whispered finally, his breath warm against my ear. "But we should wait a few more minutes to be certain."
His arms remained around me, neither of us moving to separate despite the patrol's departure. The silver crescent pulsed gently, responding to his proximity.
We reached the cabin by mid-afternoon, finding it recently abandoned. Kane approached first, circling the perimeter to check for traps before signaling me forward.
Inside, we searched with practiced efficiency, our movements developing natural synchronicity. The cabin contained basic furniture, but personal items had been removed, leaving only faint traces of recent occupation.
"Look at this," Kane called softly, lifting a floorboard to reveal a hidden compartment.
Inside, we found correspondence between Lydia and someone identified only as "The Patron," discussing "the Alpha's condition" and "timetables." The cryptic messages contained references to "adjusting dosages" and "accelerated deterioration"—clinical discussions of Marcus's slow murder.
"'The Patron expects results by mid-autumn,'" Kane read, his voice tight with controlled anger. "'The Council transition must proceed according to schedule.'"
"They planned Marcus's death to coincide with the Alpha Council appointments," I realized.
We continued examining documents, finding a coded ledger detailing payments to Lydia and others unnamed. Kane worked to decrypt portions, revealing skills I hadn't known he possessed.
"These symbols correspond to pack territories," he explained. "If I'm interpreting this correctly, they've been positioning agents in multiple high-ranking packs, not just ours."
The sound of approaching vehicles froze us in place.
"Hide," Kane whispered urgently, guiding me toward a small storage closet.
We pressed inside the tight space, Kane's body instinctively positioned to shield me as the cabin door opened. Through the slats, I saw Giana enter with two unfamiliar wolves; her usually perfect composure had been replaced by barely controlled panic.
"It has to be here somewhere!" she hissed, frantically searching the cabin. “Lydia documented everything. If those records fall into the wrong hands—"
"The schedule is already compromised," one of her companions argued. "The Alpha King's unexpected appearance has changed everything."
The second wolf, a muscular male with a jagged scar, began methodically tearing apart the cabin's furnishings. "The Patron wants everything destroyed. No loose ends."
"We should have eliminated the maid weeks ago," the first wolf muttered. "Allowing her to document the process was always a risk."
"The Patron required documentation," Giana snapped. "For future applications."
I suppressed a shudder at the clinical discussion of Marcus's murder, feeling Kane tense beside me. His hand found mine in the darkness, squeezing gently.
In the cramped hiding space, I became acutely aware of his proximity—his steady heartbeat against my shoulder, his breath warming my hair. The intimate closeness awakened memories of our nights together, now complicated by genuine emotional connection.
After what felt like hours, Giana and her companions finally left empty-handed, frustration evident in their hurried departure.
"They killed her," I whispered as we emerged from hiding. "Lydia knew too much, so they silenced her."
Kane's expression darkened. "And they'd do the same to us without hesitation."
The sobering reality brought a moment of shared vulnerability as we gathered the evidence. We secured the documents in waterproof pouches Kane had brought, distributing them between us in case one of us was captured.
Our journey back required even greater caution. Kane chose a different route, avoiding our earlier paths in case they were now being watched. At one point, we waded through a shallow stream to mask our scent.
During our return journey, Kane surprised me by breaking the tense silence with an unexpected confession.
"Before you, I never let anyone close enough to matter," he admitted, his usual confident demeanor stripped away. "Now I have something to lose, and it terrifies me."
The raw honesty in his voice made my heart constrict. I reached for his hand, twining our fingers together in silent response.
"I understand fear," I said finally. "I've spent my whole life afraid of disappointing my father, losing my mother, failing the pack. But this—" I touched the silver crescent at my neck. "This feels like something worth the risk."
The vulnerability in Kane's eyes made him look younger, more open than I'd ever seen him. For a moment, I glimpsed the boy he might have been before loss and pain taught him to hide behind charm and casual indifference.
We reached pack territory as dusk fell, separating briefly to enter through different access points. I had just secured the documents in my quarters when an encrypted message arrived: "Lydia's body found in the eastern river. Official report will call it suicide."
Kane found me staring at the message, the reality of our situation settling like ice in my veins. Without a word, he took me in his arms, offering comfort that required no explanation.
"Whatever happens," Kane whispered against my hair, "we face it together."
For the first time since this began, I allowed myself to draw strength not just from my own determination, but from the connection growing between us—a bond that seemed to strengthen with each challenge we faced.
"Together," I agreed, the silver crescent warming against my skin as if sealing our promise.
