Chapter Nineteen

The meeting hall was a cavernous space of high ceilings, polished stone floors, and arched windows that framed the pale morning light. It sat atop the Alpha King’s city tower, secured against threats and reinforced for secrecy. Inside, the room was filled with low murmurs, tension humming beneath every word like a taut wire ready to snap.

The Alpha King stood at the head of a long obsidian table. Beside him sat his Second, and further down, the attending Alphas and Lunas from neighboring and allied packs.

Victoria leaned silently against the far wall, arms crossed tight over her chest, a clipboard hugged loosely to her side. She wasn’t there to speak. She was there to observe, to report, and maybe—if she was honest—to ground herself in the hum of responsibility.

Even now, a faint echo of claws raking against tile haunted her memory. The pressure of being thrown. The sound of screams. The feel of her own breath being stolen as she hit the ground. The memory lingered like smoke in her lungs.

Her brother’s voice pulled her back.

"The rogue attacks aren’t isolated anymore. They’re coordinated. They’re targeting civilians now—not just packs. Which means someone’s giving orders."

Alpha Marcus of the Ridge Vale Pack leaned forwards, “And what of the rogues you caught within the city?”

“We’ve interrogated the ones we captured,” the Alpha King said, his voice hardening. “They’re after a specific girl, someone with pale features. Light hair, light eyes. All they’ll admit is that they’ve been paid to find her, to take their ‘mark’ and deliver her back to whoever’s pulling the strings. That’s all I’ve managed to get out of them: no names, no reasons. Just that she’s the one they’re hunting.”

“There can’t be that many girls with those features,” Blair said, tilting her head as if she’d uncovered something clever. “It’s not exactly common in our kind, after all.”

Victoria let out a soft, amused laugh. “Maybe not in your circle,” she replied coolly. “But you do realize we live in a world where people dye their hair and wear colored contacts for fun, right? Humans have made blending in or standing out a fashion trend for decades.”

“She’s right. They aren’t only targeting wolves, they have been targeting humans as well,” the Alpha King explained.

Blair huffed and sat back in her seat.

The Alpha King went on, “They’ve been taken, only to be found days later… mutilated. Killed. Some… tortured."

Alpha Thea of the Eastern Wards spoke, voice tight with fury, "This isn’t just war. This is a purge."

Victoria flinched slightly.

The hall fell into a murmur of scattered conversation, Alphas and Lunas quietly debating their next moves. But Victoria barely heard them. Her thoughts had drifted far from the room, her gaze unfocused.

Blair drifted to Victoria’s side, her tone light but laced with something colder.

“I was just thinking,” she said, brushing an invisible speck from her sleeve. “I hope your little friend from the boutique is holding up alright.”

Victoria blinked, caught off guard. “Sorry—what?”

Blair’s lips curved in that all-too-familiar smirk. “Your friend. The silver-haired one. With everything going on… girls disappearing, turning up dead. You might want to keep a closer eye on her. Would be a shame if she ended up next.”

There was no real concern in her voice—only veiled warning. A threat wrapped in faux sympathy.

“You don’t need to worry about her,” Victoria said evenly, her voice smooth but firm. “She can handle herself.”

Blair tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Well, when it comes to rogues… they don’t exactly play fair. An ambush could take anyone down. Probably what happened to those other girls, don’t you think?”

Victoria’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate your concern, Blair. Truly. But let me assure you—she’s not as helpless as you assume.”

She gave Blair a light pat on the shoulder, deliberate and dismissive, before turning on her heel and striding toward the exit without another word.

Blair stood frozen for a moment, lips curling in distaste. She brushed her shoulder off with a flick of her fingers.

“How dare she touch me,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else—though a few nearby alphas cast curious glances her way.

**

The Alpha King’s office tower loomed over the city like a sentinel—glass and steel rising high into the clouds, polished and unyielding. The top floor was a palace of silence and shadow, made for strategy, not comfort. Cold light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting harsh lines across the dark stone floor. Below, the city pulsed unaware.

Victoria stood near the edge of the room, her arms folded, posture tense. She didn’t speak right away, staring instead at the world beyond the glass. Her thoughts ran in sharp spirals, looping back to one name again and again. Celeste.

Her brother sat at his massive desk, silent, his fingers steepled in front of him. The tension from the earlier meeting still clung to them both like smoke—dense, unwelcome, unspoken.

“What did Blair say to you?” the King finally asked, voice low but edged with curiosity.

Victoria turned slightly, her gaze cool. “She said she hoped my friend from the boutique was okay. But it wasn’t concern. It felt… calculated.”

The King’s brow twitched. “Calculated how?”

“It sounded like a warning,” Victoria replied, walking toward the desk. “She remembered Celeste. Must’ve seen her that day in the boutique. And now—after everything that’s been happening—she’s trying to make a connection. She said I should keep an eye on my friend… that she might be next.”

The Alpha King didn’t answer right away. He rose from his seat, his large frame casting long shadows across the room as he moved to stand beside her at the window.

“We’ve kept Celeste hidden,” he said, voice low, almost to himself. “But Blair’s not stupid. Arrogant, yes. But not blind.”

Victoria’s arms tightened over her chest. “If the others find out… if anyone starts asking why a silver-haired girl with light eyes showed up just before the rogue attacks escalated…”

“They’ll draw the same conclusions we have,” he finished for her.

Outside, the city buzzed with oblivious life—cars like veins, buildings like organs. None of it mattered compared to the weight of one name.

“I don’t understand,” Victoria whispered. “Why her? Why are the rogues willing to kill for her?”

The King’s jaw flexed. “We’ve interrogated them. They’re not just hunting at random. Someone is paying them to find a specific girl. Light hair. Light eyes. They’re looking for their mark—those are the words one of them used.”

“And Celeste fits the description perfectly.”

He nodded. “It’s her. But they don’t know where she is. Yet.”

Victoria was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “She barely moves when she sleeps. It’s like her body is here, but her soul isn’t. Whatever happened to her—it’s not just physical. It’s deep. Something… broke her.”

The King didn’t respond, but the way his hands curled into fists said enough.

“She’s just there. Asleep in your room. And we’re here trying to decide how long we can keep her existence a secret.”

“I know.”

Victoria’s tone turned sharp. “Do you?”

He turned his gaze back to the city, his profile unreadable. “We’re not just protecting her. We’re protecting everyone. If the wrong person finds out she’s here, this city will burn.”

Victoria exhaled slowly, the fight draining out of her. “So what do we do?”

The King stepped away from the window and returned to his desk. “We stay ahead of Blair. Keep her close. Distract her with whatever it takes. She’s nosy, but she’s also vain. Use that.”

“And if someone smarter than Blair starts asking questions?”

“Then we pray Celeste wakes up soon enough to give us some answers.”

Victoria stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded.

As she turned to leave, she glanced once more out the window. The sky was darkening now, the city lights beginning to glow.

She thought of Celeste. Of her pale lashes resting on too-pale cheeks. Of the quiet ache of someone trying to survive their own silence.