Chapter 20 – Pulling The Strings

Menelik’s Point of View

Patience was a luxury I was running out of.

I leaned against the rough-hewn timber of my hut, watching the mist roll off the neutral ground like a funeral shroud. Somewhere across that border, the Eclipse Star was being picked apart by a parasite, and the woman I had searched years for was being drained of her very soul to fund the feast.

I’d watched the packhouse for days. I’d seen what Vance and his rogue inflicted on Amani. It was a pure insult. Every time they had sex, a piece of Amani withered. I could smell the decline in her scent, the way the vibrant, forest-pine aroma of her spirit was being replaced by clinical exhaustion.

Zebub wasn’t just a mistress, I could tell she was an executioner. She was pulling the strings of a triangle bond as it fit her plans, waiting for the exact sign to end Amani permanently.

“You’re brooding, Menelik,” a voice rasped from the dark.

I didn’t turn. I knew the scent. “Brooding is for poets. I’m calculating.”

One of my scouts, a scarred old wolf named Steph, stepped into the faint light of the lanterns.

“The rogues are moving closer to the line again. They aren’t hiding anymore. I saw three of them near the eastern ridge. They’re Korgan’s men. I’d recognize that mangy, sulfur smell anywhere.”

My jaw tightened. Korgan.

The rogue Alpha didn't do anything without a blueprint of blood. He had his sights on Eclipse Star, and Zebub was the perfect Trojan horse. Seduce the Alpha, weaken the pack from the bedroom out, and wait for the draining to kill the only person with enough sense to lead a defense. Once Amani was dead and Vance was a hollowed-out shell of lust and guilt, Korgan would just walk through the front door.

“He’s close,” I muttered. “Korgan doesn’t let his pawns play this long without being nearby to watch the board.”

“What’s the play?” Steph asked, his hand resting on the hilt of a hunting knife. “We can’t interfere in pack politics without starting a war we aren't supposed to fight.”

“The Moon Goddess has her own plans for Amani,” I said, thinking back to the way her scent had sharpened after her dream in my hut. “And she is still tied to Vance. The bond has to break naturally; otherwise, she runs the risk of going insane if her mate dies.”

Thinking of this, Farkas growled inside my mind, a low angry sound that demanded blood.

“And what’s more, she wants the pack. She wants revenge. If she’s going to get it, I have to clear the brush so she doesn’t get bushwhacked on her way to power. If I don't move now, Zebub will make her final strike, and I'll be burying a Queen instead of crowning one.”

“You’re going after Korgan,” Steph stated. It wasn't a question.

“I’m going to remind him that neutral ground doesn't mean safe ground,” I replied. “I have to stop him. But truly, that would only be a stay of execution. The ties of the mate bond are in Zebub’s hands now; Vance has marked her. And now Amani is in distress since she is marked also and can’t reject him anymore. The mark is final.”

Steph gasped in disbelief. “You mean the Luna is a hostage in a triangle mating? She can do nothing to get rid of it?”

I sighed.

My father, King Jasper, had told me about this, warned me about the weight of a chosen mate and made me swear to wait for my fated. The risks were too high. If the fated eventually showed up, the pull would be too strong to resist, turning the bond into a vessel of betrayal. Though three wolves mated to each other was rare, it was still possible in our society, something I’d rather stay clear of. But now, the love of my life was entangled in that exact nightmare.

“All I can do is help her ease the pain and keep the pack on track. Although I believe the Alpha is too deep into that rogue, there is no way back for him. I have to halt Korgan from killing him, or the backlash will destroy Amani.”

I waited until midnight.

It was the hour of the scavenger, the time when rogues felt the most entitled to leave the shadows. I slipped out of my hut, my movements silent, weaving through the undergrowth of the neutral zone. I stayed low, crawling through the damp ferns toward the Eclipse Star border. I needed to ensure Zebub wasn't lurking nearby before I headed deeper into the no-man’s-land to hunt for Korgan’s camp.

The forest was alive with the sound of insects and the distant, mourning howl of a lone wolf. I reached a small clearing just past the borderline. I paused, centering myself, preparing to shift into my massive, dark form that most wolves mistook for a nightmare.

I began the transition, my bones starting to lengthen and my muscles rippling under my skin. But just as the shift took hold, something hit me.

It wasn't a strike. It was too soft; it crashed directly into my chest.

A frustrated, high-pitched growl erupted against my sternum as the impact sent us both stumbling back. For a split second, my instincts screamed threat, and my claws extended, ready to disembowel whatever had dared to ambush me.

Then that mind-blowing scent hit me.