Chapter 5: The Wolves at the Gate

The room fell into stunned silence.

Scarlett's pulse hammered in her ears. "The... Silver Moon Pack?" she whispered.

The security chief gave a grim nod. "Positioned outside the east and north gates. Drones counted over a hundred wolves."

Her first reaction wasn't fear. It was confusion. Logan had rejected her. Why would his pack come for her now?

Damian, though, looked anything but surprised. "Has the Alpha crossed onto my land?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Good."

The guard hesitated. "They're demanding we hand over Miss De Luca."

Scarlett stared at him. "Hand me over?"

"That won't happen." Damian turned to the guard. "Double the security around the manor. No one enters without my permission."

"Yes, sir." The guard hurried out.

For a long moment neither of them spoke. Scarlett swung her legs out of bed. "I have to go."

"No."

"If they're here because of me, I won't let innocent people get hurt for it."

"They're not here because of you."

"You just said they wanted me."

"I said they're demanding you. There's a difference." He stepped closer, voice calm but firm. "If Logan actually wanted you back, he wouldn't show up with a hundred warriors."

Her stomach twisted. "You think they're here to kill me?"

"I think someone wants me to believe that."

"You keep talking like everyone's playing some game except me. And I'm tired of being the last one to know the rules."

For once he didn't answer with words. Instead he reached into his jacket and drew out a small velvet pouch. Inside was the silver necklace she'd lost in the forest.

She gasped. "My mother's necklace—"

"It never left you." He placed it in her palm.

"I thought it was gone."

"So did the people hunting you."

She looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

"It isn't valuable because it's silver." His voice dropped. "It's valuable because of what's hidden inside."

"Hidden?" She'd worn this necklace since she was a child. There was nothing inside it — or so she'd thought.

Damian pressed his thumb to the tiny crescent engraved on the back. A faint click, and the pendant sprang open. Folded impossibly small inside was a strip of paper she'd never known existed.

Her breath caught. She unfolded it carefully. The ink had faded, but one line was still legible:

*When the moon rejects you, find the man dressed in black. Trust no one else.*

Her hands trembled. "You—"

"I've been waiting a long time for you to read that."

Before she could ask anything else, an explosion shook the manor. The chandelier swayed. Glass shattered somewhere below. Alarms started screaming through the halls.

Damian's expression went cold. The door burst open again — the same security chief, blood now running down the side of his face.

"They breached the outer gate!"

"Who?" Damian asked, still calm.

The guard swallowed. "It isn't the Silver Moon Pack." He looked straight at Scarlett. "It's the people who wanted her dead."

---

The words hit like a physical blow. Scarlett's fingers closed around the note, still folded in her palm. *Her mother had known. Years before tonight, she had known.*

Another blast rocked the building. The windows rattled in their frames. Somewhere below, voices shouted over the wail of alarms.

Damian turned to the chief. "Report."

"They blew the east gate with military-grade explosives. We've held the first wave, but they're not trying to take the manor."

"Then what are they after?"

The guard's face darkened. "This wing. They're coming straight here."

Scarlett felt the blood leave her face. "They know I'm here."

"They've always known." Damian pressed a device inside his jacket. "Lock down the residence. Seal every corridor except Route Seven."

A calm voice answered instantly: "Lockdown initiated." Steel doors slid shut throughout the mansion, one after another.

Scarlett stared at him. "Your house has lockdown routes?"

"It wasn't built as a house."

"Then what was it built as?"

"A sanctuary."

"For who?"

"For people who couldn't protect themselves."

Footsteps rushed toward them. Eleanor burst in carrying a small leather bag. "Sir." Damian took it with a nod of thanks. She turned to Scarlett, eyes full of worry. "Miss De Luca — stay close to him."

"You say that like you've met me before."

Eleanor's lips parted, then closed. She looked away. "I promised someone I wouldn't answer that."

"Everyone in this house keeps talking about promises," Scarlett said, frustration rising again.

Damian opened the bag. Not a weapon — photographs. He handed her the top one. Her breath caught: two young women beneath a giant oak tree. One was unmistakably her mother.

She looked up at Eleanor. "You—"

Tears filled the older woman's eyes. "I was your mother's closest friend."

"She never told me."

"She couldn't."

"Why not?"

Eleanor glanced at Damian, who gave the smallest nod. Only then did she answer. "Because the day you were born, everyone who loved your family became a target."

Scarlett's knees weakened. "So my whole life has been a lie."

"No," Damian said, stepping closer. "It's been protected."

A gunshot cracked from downstairs. Then another. The device on Damian's belt crackled to life. "Sir, they've reached the west staircase — Team Three is down — we need backup!"

His expression didn't change. He turned to the chief now standing in the doorway. "Take Miss De Luca to the safe room."

"I'm not hiding," Scarlett said.

"You are."

"No."

"This isn't a request."

She stepped in front of him anyway. "My whole life, people have made decisions for me. Logan decided I wasn't enough. Strangers decided to hunt me. My own mother filled my life with secrets." She met his eyes. "I'm done running."

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then a slow smile touched Damian's mouth — not amusement. Approval. "The frightened girl who walked out of Silver Moon Pack isn't standing here anymore."

"No," Scarlett said, straightening. "She isn't."

Another explosion, closer this time, sent plaster raining from the ceiling and made the lights flicker. A guard burst into the hall. "Sir — they've broken through!"

Damian's calm vanished, replaced by something colder. He buttoned his jacket like a man preparing for a meeting instead of a war, then looked at Scarlett. "Stay behind me."

She opened her mouth to argue, then stopped — realizing, for the first time, that he wasn't shielding her out of pity. He'd already decided that anyone who wanted her would have to come through him first.

The mansion's oak doors exploded inward. Dust filled the entrance hall. When it cleared, a tall figure stepped through the smoke in a black tactical coat, unarmed and unbothered, as if he'd finally found exactly what he was looking for. His eyes locked on Scarlett.

"There you are." He took a step closer. "Your mother made us wait twenty-three years." A smile spread across his face. "But tonight, you finally come home."