Chapter 8-Infiltration

The Bloodwood Pack House looked vastly different under the cover of a moonless night.

Five years ago, this place was a gilded prison where I cleaned floors and took insults from lower-ranking wolves. Tonight, it was a target.

I crouched on a thick oak branch twenty feet above the wet mud, my black leather gear blending seamlessly into the dark canopy. Through my tiny earpiece, the quiet, steady click of Leo’s connection came through.

"Mama, I have intercepted the estate's secondary closed-circuit feed," Leo whispered, his voice crisp and completely devoid of panic. "The eastern courtyard cameras are currently looping a static six-second delay. You have a clear window to cross to the ivy trellis on the main study's outer wall."

"Copy that, chief," I murmured softly. "How's your host holding up?"

"His Majesty is currently standing in the command trailer three miles back, glaring at my laptop screen because I refused to give him administrator access," Leo replied dryly.

A deep, amused rumble echoed over the line as Ethan’s voice cut in. "The kid is a tyrant, Aria. Tell him I outrank him."

"You don't outrank my Chief Financial Officer, Ethan," I said, a faint smile touching my lips before my tone went cold and focused. "I'm moving in."

I slipped off the branch, landing on the wet grass without making a single sound. Moving like a ghost across the open lawn, I reached the thick stone base of the main mansion. The massive ivy vine stretched all the way up to the second-story balcony of Alpha Jaxon’s private study—the exact room where he used to sign off on pack budgets while I served him tea.

I climbed the stone facade with fluid, practiced speed, my boots finding small ledges in the masonry. Within ten seconds, I vaulted over the carved stone railing of the second-floor balcony.

The heavy glass French doors were locked with a standard mechanical deadbolt. I pulled a thin, curved silver pick from my sleeve, sliding it into the keyhole. Two quick twists, a soft click, and the lock yielded.

I slipped inside, shutting the glass doors behind me and pulling the velvet curtains tight.

The air in the study was thick with the scent of cheap cigars, old leather, and Jaxon’s distinct, sour wolf scent. It made my skin crawl, but I pushed the disgust down. I was a professional.

"I'm in," I whispered into the mic. "Searching for the safe."

"Check behind the oil painting of the founding Alpha on the north wall," Ethan instructed, his voice low and intense through the static. "That's where most vanity-obsessed pack leaders hide their private ledgers."

I glided across the polished hardwood floor toward the massive framed portrait of Jaxon's father. I swung the painting forward—and sure enough, a heavy, electronic digital safe was embedded in the wall behind it.

"Found it," I said, pulling out a small handheld bypass device Leo had modified back at the motel. "Leo, hook into the relay code."

"Initializing brute-force sequence now, Mama," Leo’s voice came back. "Hold the scanner against the digital keypad. It will take approximately forty-five seconds."

I pressed the device against the metal frame. The tiny LED light blinked rapidly from red to yellow as the program cycled through thousands of possible encryption codes.

Thirty seconds passed. The silence in the mansion felt heavy, suffocating.

Beep.

The heavy steel bolt inside the safe clicked open, the green light flashing solid.

"We're in," I whispered, pulling the heavy door open.

Inside sat three black leather-bound ledgers stamped with gold foil, alongside several velvet pouches filled with raw, unrefined silver ore—the exact contraband Ethan’s intelligence team had been looking for. This was the proof. The paper trail that proved Jaxon was illegally mining and smuggling silver across royal borders.

I grabbed the ledgers, shoving them into the waterproof pack strapped to my chest.

Suddenly, the heavy brass doorknob of the main study door began to turn.

"Aria, abort!" Ethan's voice roared through my earpiece, his calm composure completely shattering. "A squad of enforcers just entered the lower hallway! They're heading up the stairs!"

"Door is compromised!" I hissed, locking the safe door and swinging the portrait back into place.

I turned toward the balcony doors, but before I could take two steps, the main study door slammed open.

"Who's in here?!" a harsh, barking voice yelled.

Luna Clara stepped into the room, dressed in a silk robe, flanked by two armed Bloodwood guardians. Her eyes scanned the dark room before locking onto my shadowed figure near the portrait.

"An intruder!" Clara shrieked, pointing a polished silver dagger at me. "Kill them! Don't let them leave!"

The two guards drew their tactical blades, lunging across the room toward me with feral wolf speed.

I didn't draw my knife. I sidestepped the first guard's clumsy swing, grabbing his wrist and using his own momentum to slam his face into the heavy oak desk. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

The second guard lunged with a low slash, but I vaulted backward over the desk, kicking him square in the chest with both boots. He flew backward, crashing into a glass display case with a loud, shattering crunch.

Clara gasped, stepping back toward the doorway in absolute horror as I straightened up, wiping a trace of dust from my leather jacket.

I took two slow, deliberate steps toward her, pulling off my dark face mask.

Under the dim ambient light of the hallway, Clara's eyes widened into dinner plates. The color completely drained from her face, her jaw trembling violently as she recognized me.

"A... Aria?" she choked out, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "You... you died in the river..."

"I got better," I said, a sweet, deadly smile curling my lips.

Before she could scream, I brought the butt of my knife down, knocking her cold. She collapsed onto the carpet in a heap of silk.

"Aria! Report!" Ethan’s frantic voice thundered through my earpiece. "I am coming in!"

"I'm clear," I said, sprinting toward the balcony French doors and throwing them wide open. "Got the ledgers. Meeting you at the drop point."

I threw myself over the balcony railing, plunging into the dark, rainy night below with the evidence that would burn Jaxon’s empire to the ground.