Chapter 11

The war room was thick with a suffocating tension, the air heavy with the scent of pine, iron, and Asher’s crackling Alpha aura. Detailed topographic maps of the northern mountain pass were pinned across the massive oak table, marked in red ink dividing the dense wilderness into strategic search grids.

Delta Curtus Stevens leaned over the map, his broad hands resting on the edges. “We’ve deployed three full tracking units to the ambush site, Asher,” Curtus reported, his tone grave. “But the wolfsbane gas wiped out her scent trail entirely. The cold rain setting in up north is going to wash away what little physical tracks were left.”

“Expand the radius,” Asher commanded, his black hair falling over his forehead as his icy blue eyes burned with a dark, dangerous intensity. “Search every abandoned outpost, old hunter’s cabin, and underground structure within thirty miles. She is in this territory, and we will find her.”

Liam stood at the opposite end of the table, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set like granite as his glare remained fixed entirely on Cassius. “She couldn’t have been moved far on foot in this weather. They had a destination picked out before the trap was even sprung. Someone fed those rogues our exact travel timeline and route.”

Cassius shifted against the wall, adjusting the cuff of his shirt with calculated slowness, though a brief flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “Are you making accusations, Gamma? I’ve already explained—the ridge looked unstable, so I accelerated to secure the bend ahead. It was a standard tactical call.”

Asher slowly turned his gaze toward his Beta, his icy eyes narrowing into lethal slits. There was a glaring flaw in Cassius’s story—a subtle calculation in his timing that didn’t fit a trained second-in-command. Asher hadn’t missed the Beta’s complete lack of urgency, nor how conveniently the fallen tree had isolated the second vehicle. Suspicion took root deep in Asher’s chest, but without definitive proof, he kept his voice deceptively calm. “A tactical decision that left the Caldwell female exposed, Cassius. We will examine your judgment very closely once she is safe.”

Cindy stepped forward from the doorway, twirling a strand of blonde hair as she glanced at the map with a dramatic, tired sigh. “Asher, darling, you’re exhausting our entire elite guard over a girl who probably isn’t even alive anymore,” she purred, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Those mountain rogues don’t take captives to negotiate. If they grabbed her, she’s likely already dead in some canyon. Why waste valuable pack resources searching for damaged goods?”

Liam took an aggressive step toward her, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. “Watch your mouth, Cindy.”

“Enough!” Asher’s voice struck the room like a physical blow, the sheer force of his Alpha authority rattling the glass windowpanes. He turned a lethal glare onto Cindy, his tone dropping to a freezing, absolute command. “If you utter another word questioning the survival of Lady Lydia, Cindy, I will have you escorted out of this territory immediately.”

Cindy flinched, her cheeks flushing red as she snapped her mouth shut, though a bitter, triumphant glint remained hidden deep in her eyes.

Asher slammed his hands flat against the map, leaning down as his wolf surged close to the surface. “We don’t know where they are keeping her yet, but we search every inch of this land. Curtus, take the western ridge. Liam, you’re with me. We ride now.”

For three unbearable days, the search yielded nothing. Cold autumn rain battered the northern wilderness, washing away tracks and drenching the search parties in endless, bitter frustration. Asher hadn’t slept a full hour since the ambush. An unexplainable, clawing desperation twisted in his gut—a relentless instinct screaming at him that every lost second was bringing his bride closer to irreversible horror.

The war room was littered with outdated maps and half-empty coffee mugs when the heavy oak doors were pushed open. A muddy, out-of-breath scout stumbled inside, bowing frantically to the Alpha.

“Alpha Asher!” the scout panted, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “A border patrol along the far eastern edge just spotted movement. Smoke rising from a chimney that shouldn’t be lit.”

Curtus stepped forward, his brow furrowing. “The far eastern edge? That’s dead territory. There’s nothing out there except heavy pine cover and—”

“The old packhouse,” Liam interrupted, his eyes widening in sudden, horrifying realization. He looked up at Asher, his dark gaze piercing. “The old stronghold.”

A stunned silence settled over the room. Three years ago, the Frostwell pack had outgrown the old stone estate on the far side of the territory and constructed their grand, modern packhouse near the central valley. Over time, the old structure had slipped completely from active patrol logs, left behind as a hollowed-out ghost of their past. Asher had completely forgotten it even existed, never once imagining that a band of feral rogues would have the audacity to hide inside a piece of Frostwell history right under his nose.

“The subterranean levels,” Asher spat, the words dripping with lethal coldness as he slammed his fist onto the wooden table, shattering the glass map cover into spiderweb cracks. “The old wine cellars and holding cells are buried three floors beneath the ground. That’s why the scent couldn’t reach the surface.”

Cassius, standing near the back, stiffened slightly, his arrogant mask slipping into a shadow of tight anxiety before he quickly forced a frown to cover it.

“Mobilize every elite warrior,” Asher commanded, his voice dropping into a guttural, terrifying growl as his blue eyes flashed a violent, murderous gold. “Curtus, seal the surrounding forest line. No one leaves that estate alive. Liam, you’re with me at the front breach.”

He buckled his weapons belt, his chest heaving with a dark, suffocating rage. “Three days,” he growled under his breath, his wolf clawing at his ribs to tear apart whatever was waiting inside that dark cellar. “Hold on, Lydia.”