CHAPTER FIVE: THE PLAN 

"You're insane."

Daren looked up from the map spread across the table. "It's the only way."

"It's suicide," I insisted. "If I just show up at the border begging to come back, they'll kill me on sight. Kane made it very clear I wasn't welcome."

"Which is why we need to give them a reason to let you back in." He tapped the map. "Kane is practical. He'll overlook his pride if he thinks you're useful."

We were in the war room, a secure space in the center of the compound where Daren planned his operations. The walls were covered with maps, photos, and notes about various packs. But the largest section was dedicated to Moontide—detailed layouts, guard rotations, key players, everything.

Elena sat in the corner, listening silently. She'd been invited to these planning sessions because, as she'd explained, "Someone needs to be the voice of reason when you two get too caught up in revenge."

"What reason could I possibly give?" I asked. "I'm a rejected mate. An omega. I have nothing they want."

"Information," Daren said. "You have information about me."

I stared at him. "You want me to betray you?"

"I want you to pretend to betray me. There's a difference." He pulled out a folder. "For the past month, I've been letting slip certain information through channels I know lead back to Moontide. False information about my location, my numbers and my plans. Kane thinks I'm in the Northern territories, preparing to attack Silverfang Pack next."

"But you're not."

"No. I'm here, preparing to destroy him. But he doesn't know that." Daren's smile was sharp. "You're going to show up at his border, beaten and desperate. You're going to tell him you were captured by my men, you escaped, and that you have information about my whereabouts and plans."

"He won't believe me."

"He will, because the information you give him will match what his other sources are telling him. It will all confirm that I'm far away, focused on another target. It will make him feel safe." His eyes gleamed. "And that's when he'll be most vulnerable."

I studied the map, my mind racing. "And once I'm inside?"

"You gather real information. Their current defenses, up-to-date patrol schedules, where Kane sleeps, who's loyal to him and who's just afraid. Most importantly, you find out about his meeting with Alpha Marcus. What are they planning? What kind of alliance are they forming?"

"That's a lot to accomplish without getting caught."

"You'll have help." Daren nodded to Elena, who pulled out a small box. Inside were several tiny devices that looked like buttons.

"Cameras," Elena explained. "And listening devices. State of the art. You'll sew these into your clothes, place them in strategic locations. They'll transmit everything back to us."

"How? Won't they detect the signals?"

"Not these. They're designed specifically to avoid shifter senses." She smiled slightly. "Daren's been preparing for this for a long time."

"What about contact? How will I get information out if I discover something urgent?"

Daren pulled out a phone. "Encrypted. Untraceable. Only one number programmed in—mine. Text only, no calls. And only in absolute emergencies. Too much communication increases the risk of discovery."

I took the phone, feeling its weight. This was really happening. I was going back to Moontide as a spy.

"When?" I asked.

"Three days. We need to make sure your injuries look right—fresh enough to seem recent, healed enough that you could have traveled." He studied me critically. "We'll need to rough you up a bit. Make it look convincing."

"You want to hurt me?"

"I want to give you believable injuries. There's a difference." His expression softened slightly. "I won't enjoy it, if that's what you're worried about."

Elena stood. "I'll handle that part. I know how to create convincing injuries without causing real damage. Minor cuts and bruises that look worse than they are, that sort of thing."

"You've done this before?" I asked.

"More times than I'd like to admit." She sighed. "Daren's spies always need to look the part."

The casual mention of other spies reminded me of something. "You said you had someone inside Moontide already. Who?"

Daren exchanged a glance with Elena. "His name is Jacob. He's a warrior, low-ranked. His sister was killed during a challenge that Kane rigged. He's been feeding me information for six months."

"And he's willing to help me?"

"He's willing to help destroy Kane. Whatever that takes." Daren's tone made it clear this wasn't up for debate. "He'll make contact with you once you're inside. He'll know when you arrive—he's on border patrol rotation."

"How will I recognize him?"

"You won't. He'll recognize you. When it's safe, he'll find a way to talk to you privately." Daren rolled up the map. "For now, you need to memorize everything in this room. Every map, every schedule, every face. You need to know Moontide better than the wolves who live there now."

For the next three days, I did nothing but study. I memorized current guard rotations, pack hierarchies, building layouts. Elena taught me how to place the hidden cameras, how to use the encrypted phone, how to pass information without being obvious. And Daren continued my combat training.

"You need to be able to defend yourself," he said, circling me in the training yard. "But not too well. If you suddenly fight like a trained warrior, they'll know something is wrong."

"So I should fight badly?"

"You should fight like a desperate omega who's learned a few moves out of necessity. Effective enough to survive, not skilled enough to threaten anyone important."

He demonstrated, showing me techniques that looked sloppy but were actually quite effective. How to use someone's strength against them. How to exploit openings. How to run away convincingly.

"Running is not cowardice," he said. "It's survival. And right now, survival is your primary objective."

On the last night before I was supposed to leave, I couldn't sleep. I stood in the courtyard, looking up at the stars, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

"Nervous?" Daren's voice came from behind me.

I turned to find him leaning against the wall, dressed in dark clothes that made him blend into the shadows.

"Terrified," I admitted. "What if I mess this up? What if they catch me?"

"Then you run. Use the emergency protocol we discussed. I'll extract you."

"What if I can't run?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Then you do whatever you need to do to survive. Even if that means abandoning the mission."

"I thought you needed this information."

"I do. But not at the cost of your life." He moved closer, and in the moonlight, his face looked younger, almost vulnerable. "I've sent eleven spies into various packs over the years. Seven of them died. I won't lie and say their deaths don't haunt me."

"Then why send me?"

"Because you volunteered. Because you have the best chance of success—you're from Moontide, you know the people, you have a legitimate reason to be there. And because..." He stopped.

"Because what?"

"Because I think you're stronger than you realize. Rejection didn't break you, Shahira. It forged you into something harder." His eyes met mine. "You're going to survive this. And when it's over, when Moontide is nothing but ashes, you're going to stand in those ashes and know you helped put them there." Something in his words made my chest tight. Not with fear, but with something else. Something I didn't want to examine too closely.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For giving me this chance."

"Thank me when it's over." He turned to leave, then paused. "Shahira? Be careful. Kane is more dangerous than you remember. And Ryker..." His jaw tightened. "Ryker is his father's son. Don't underestimate him."

"I won't."

He nodded and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone with my thoughts and fears.

Tomorrow, I would return to Moontide.

Tomorrow, my revenge would begin.