25. HIS PLANS

KIERAN

The air was thick with tension as I strode across the gravel-covered path leading to the main courtyard, my boots crunching beneath me, my heart hammering a warning into my ribs. I didn’t need anyone to tell me something was off, the energy around the pack was too quiet, like the forest before a storm. When I glanced up, I saw the guards standing at attention, but their eyes… Some were too shifty, others too still. Something had slipped through the cracks. No, someone had.

“How the hell did he get this close?” I barked, spinning to face Jared, who flinched at the edge in my voice.

“We’ve reinforced the borders twice this week.”

“I—I don’t know, Alpha,” he stammered, eyes darting left. “We only just got word that Lucian was seen along the eastern ridge.”

“Eastern ridge?” I repeated coldly. “He should be miles away. There’s no way he made it here this fast unless—” I broke off, the realization dawning like a blade in the gut. “Unless someone told him how to get through.”

Jared paled, but I wasn’t even looking at him anymore. My eyes were scanning the courtyard, people moving, eyes on me, whispers starting. And then they landed on her.

Vee.

She stood near the stone well, arms folded tight across her chest, her face too calm, too unreadable. But it was her eyes that did it. She met my gaze, then looked away too quickly—like a child caught red-handed but trying to feign innocence. And something about the way her jaw clenched made my skin crawl.

I crossed the space between us in five quick strides, ignoring the voices around me.

“Vee,” I said, my voice lower now, deadly calm. “Look at me.”

She did, eventually. But there was something hard beneath her eyes, a silent wall I couldn’t quite see through.

“What do you know?” I asked, no preamble, no softness. “Because Lucian didn’t just find his way here. Someone told him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said flatly, but there was a flicker—just a flicker—in her voice that betrayed her. She was lying.

“You expect me to believe that? That this is all a coincidence?” I stepped closer. “Lucian gets intel that leads him straight to my doorstep, and you just happen to be looking like you’ve swallowed a damn secret hole?”

Her lips pressed into a line. She didn’t deny it. Didn’t admit it either. But silence says more than words sometimes.

I didn’t have time to drag the truth out of her, not yet. I turned away, grabbing the comm on my belt.

“Block all main entrances,” I ordered sharply. “No one gets in or out without my say-so. I want rogues trapped outside the gates, and if they so much as breathe wrong, you take them down. You hear me?”

“Yes, Alpha,” came the chorus in my ear.

Then—before I could even process the knot building in my gut—Galen’s voice came through the comm.

“Alpha, Lucian’s retreating.”

I froze.

“What?” I snapped. “Retreating? Did we engage?”

“No, sir,” Galen replied. “They didn’t even try to breach the gates. They just… turned back.”

I stared ahead, blinking slowly, as the weight of those words settled over me. No confrontation. No attack. Just… retreat.

Why?

I turned slowly, my eyes finding Vee again. She wasn’t looking at me anymore. She was staring into the trees like she’d seen something none of us had. Like she knew something.

And suddenly, everything felt ten times worse. Because this wasn’t a failed ambush. This was something else. Something deeper.

And I had the sinking feeling we’d already lost something—we just didn’t know what yet.

The hallway had gone still again, the sharp buzz of tension finally ebbing out as the last patrol returned and shut the reinforced doors behind them. I leaned against the cold stone wall, arms crossed, trying to convince myself to feel relief. But it didn’t come. Not yet. The scent of smoke still lingered faintly in the air, and my boots echoed with every step as I made my way to the central war room.

“Status report,” I said as soon as I stepped in. My voice was calm, but the weight behind it left no room for delay.

My second-in-command, Dorian, was already by the monitors, fingers flicking through live surveillance and data feeds. His brows were furrowed, lips a tight line.

“We’ve analyzed the perimeter and the breach routes,” he said, turning towards me. “Lucian and his rogues didn’t engage. Not a single trap tripped, no infrastructure damage, no stolen resources. It’s almost like they were ghosts. In and out. Quick. Clean.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” I pushed off the wall and strode toward the screen showing heat maps.

“They didn’t come all this way for a stroll. They wanted something.”

“Scouting, most likely,” Callen added from behind me, dragging a chair closer. He looked like hell, with dried blood on his temple and grime smudged across his jaw.

“A dry run. Test our response time, maybe.”

“Then why not press further?” I muttered, more to myself than to them. My fingers tapped the edge of the desk absently.

“Lucian isn’t the type to back down when he’s already that deep in enemy territory.”

Dorian frowned. “Unless backing down was the plan.”

I turned to face him fully. “Explain.”

“What if he wanted us to think it was nothing? Keep us on edge, make us question what we missed, spread our forces thinner? That kind of mental pressure… it eats morale from the inside.”

My jaw tightened. “Then let’s not give him that satisfaction.” I turned toward the open communication board and pressed the side mic.

“Deploy additional squads to the east sector. I want to watch the high ridge. Day and night. No gaps.”

Callen groaned, “Kieran, you sure? That area's got natural deterrents. Ravines, jagged slopes…”

“That’s exactly why I’m sure,” I snapped. “He’s not going to come through the front door next time. He’s going to find the one place we’re arrogant enough to believe is safe. And when he does, he’ll rip through us before we even know he’s there.”

I paused. Everyone went quiet.

“I want soil samples tested. I want energy readings analyzed. If he left a footprint, a hair, a single damn breadcrumb—I want it on this table in the next hour.”

There was a brief silence. Then Dorian asked, cautiously, “You really think this wasn’t just a bluff?”

I met his eyes, steady and sure. “No. Lucian doesn’t bluff. He plays chess. What we just saw wasn’t a failed mission. It was a move.”

Callen exhaled loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. So we’re just living in the waiting game now?”

“No.” I stepped back, staring at the flickering screen that now showed a quiet forest, unbothered, almost mocking.

“We play our game. Quietly. Thoroughly. And next time he steps foot in our domain, it won’t be a scouting trip. It’ll be a trap.”

Dorian nodded, a spark of steel in his eyes. “I’ll start shifting the outer teams now.”

As they moved, I lingered behind, the hum of machines filling the silence. My gut was screaming. Something was wrong. Something had shifted tonight, and no matter how calm the aftermath looked, it was just the beginning.

And I wasn’t going to wait for the storm. I was going to meet it halfway.