THE IMPOSSIBLE MISSION

Chapter Three

Marina's hands shook as she poured the silver liquid into a clay cup.

She sat alone in her small den at the edge of Silvermoon territory, where the birch forest gave way to rocky outcroppings. The space was modest, a single room carved into the hillside, furnished with only a sleeping pallet, a small hearth, and shelves holding her meager possessions. It was the dwelling of someone who had never quite been accepted, never quite been offered a place in the heart of the pack.

Perfect for a spy.

The mate bond breaking potion gleamed in the firelight, its surface rippling with dark patterns that seemed to writhe and twist. Marina could smell the magic in it, ancient, powerful, and cruel. Elder Moonseer had warned her it would be unpleasant. That word kept echoing in her mind, a laughable understatement for what was about to happen.

She should tell Ragnar first. Give him warning. But the Council had been explicit. No one outside their circle could know about the mission. Ragnar was Shadowpaw, not Silvermoon. His loyalty lay with his own pack, with Alpha Obsidian Nightprowl.

Besides, if she saw Ragnar before drinking the potion, she might lose her nerve.

Marina lifted the cup to her lips, hesitated, then downed the contents in three quick swallows.

For a moment, nothing happened. She set down the cup, wondering if the potion had been too old, if the magic had faded over time, if…

Pain exploded through her chest.

It felt as though someone had reached inside her ribcage and was slowly, methodically tearing her heart in half. Marina collapsed to her knees, a scream ripping from her throat. The mate mark on her shoulder, Ragnar's claim burned into her skin the night they bonded, began to glow white hot.

Through the agony, she was dimly aware of the bond itself unraveling. The thread of connection that had linked her to Ragnar for two years, that had allowed her to sense his moods and proximity, that had made her feel less alone in a world that constantly reminded her she did not quite belong, was disintegrating strand by strand.

And Ragnar felt it too.

Even as her own mate Mark burned itself into an ugly scar, she could feel his rage and confusion through the dying bond. He was in Shadowpaw territory, probably in his den or training with his warriors. Now he was experiencing the same agony, the same violation of having something precious torn away without warning or consent.

Marina! His mental voice crashed through the last vestiges of their connection. What have you done?

She could not answer. Could barely breathe. The pain was a living thing, consuming her from within. Her wolf form tried to emerge, seeking the healing power of the shift, but the potion prevented it. She remained trapped in human form, forced to endure every excruciating second.

Tell me where you are. Ragnar's mental voice was desperate now, tinged with fear beneath the anger. I am coming. We can stop this.

The bond snapped.

Silence crashed over Marina like a physical blow. The absence of Ragnar's presence, something she had grown so accustomed to that she had stopped noticing it, left a void that echoed with emptiness. She gasped, tears streaming down her face, her body curling into itself on the cold stone floor.

Minutes or hours passed. She could not tell. Eventually, the worst of the pain receded to a dull, throbbing ache. Her mate mark had faded to a grey scar, barely visible against her skin. She pressed her hand to it, feeling nothing. Only dead tissue where the connection used to live.

A sound at her door made her lift her head.

"Marina." Elder Moonseer's voice filtered through the wooden barrier. "May I enter?"

Marina wanted to scream at her to go away, to leave her alone with her pain and her choices. Instead, she croaked, "Come in."

The elder entered, carrying a basket covered with cloth. She took Marina's position on the floor, the empty cup, the tear stained face, and something like sympathy crossed her ancient features.

"I know," she said softly, kneeling beside Marina. "I severed a mate bond once, long ago. Before you were born. Before most wolves now living drew breath. I understand what it costs."

"Then why?" Marina's voice was raw. "Why ask this of me?"

"Because the alternative is watching more pups die." Moonseer uncovered the basket, revealing bread, dried meat, herbs, and a flask of water. "You need to eat. The potion takes a heavy toll on the body."

Marina wanted to refuse, but her stomach clenched with hunger. She had not eaten since yesterday morning, too anxious about the Council meeting to keep anything down. She accepted a piece of bread and forced herself to chew, though it tasted like ash.

"There is more you need to know," Moonseer continued. "About the mission. About what will be expected of you."

"You want me to seduce an Alpha and betray him." Marina took a long drink of water. "What else is there?"

"The Blood Moon Hunt is not just a mating ceremony. It is sacred to the Bloodfang Pack, their most important ritual. Every unmated wolf of breeding age attends, and the Hunt determines partnerships for life." The elder's milky eyes fixed on Marina with unsettling intensity. "You will need to make Silvain notice you among all the other females. Make him choose you specifically."

"And how am I supposed to do that? I have never even been to Bloodfang territory. I do not know their customs or protocols."

"Which is why you will spend the next three days learning." Moonseer pulled a thick leather journal from her basket. "This contains everything our scouts have gathered about Bloodfang culture. Their hierarchy, their ceremonies, their values. You will memorize it all."

Marina took the journal, flipping through pages dense with information. Sketches of Bloodfang territory, family trees showing the pack's power structure, notes on individual wolves and their personalities. The level of detail was staggering and unsettling.

"How long have you been planning this?" she asked.

"Since the first pup died." Moonseer's expression was grim. "We have been gathering intelligence on all neighboring packs, looking for the source of the plague. Bloodfang was always the most likely culprit."

"Why? Because they are warriors? Because they are aggressive?"

"Because they have the most to gain." The elder moved to the window, gazing out at the darkening forest. "The Bloodfang Pack controls the richest hunting grounds in the northern territories. But they are landlocked, surrounded by Silvermoon, Shadowpaw, and Goldenridge territories. If they want to expand, they must go through one of us." She continued, "Weakening us with plague, then conquering while we are vulnerable, is exactly what a strategic mind like Silvain Redthorn would devise."

Marina was not convinced, but she kept her doubts to herself. "Tell me about him. About Silvain."

Moonseer returned to her seat. "Silvain Redthorn became Alpha at twenty three, when his father died in the last plague outbreak. He is twenty eight now, young for an Alpha, but respected. Strong. Intelligent. Absolutely devoted to his pack's welfare." She paused. "He is also unmated, which is unusual for an Alpha his age."

"Why has he not chosen a mate?"

"Some say he is too devoted to his duties to consider romance. Others claim he is waiting for a true mate bond, not a political alliance." Moonseer's expression grew thoughtful. "There are rumors he was in love once, with a Goldenridge female. She died in a border skirmish five years ago. Since then, he has attended the Blood Moon Hunt each year but has never claimed anyone."

Marina absorbed this information, trying to imagine the wolf she was supposed to seduce. Powerful, intelligent, grieving, and alone. A leader carrying the weight of his pack's survival on his shoulders.

Not so different from herself, perhaps.

"What happens if I fail?" she asked. "If Silvain does not choose me, or if he does but I cannot get close enough to learn anything useful?"

"Then you come home and we try something else." But Moonseer's tone suggested she did not believe failure was an option. "However, Marina, you need to understand something crucial. If you succeed, if you become Silvain's mate, you will be bound to him. The mate bond you just severed will be replaced with another, stronger one."

Marina's hand went to her scarred shoulder. "I thought that was what you wanted. For me to get close to him."

"It is. But mate bonds are complex. They are not just magical connections. They affect emotions, loyalties, and instincts. You will feel drawn to protect him, to please him, to prioritize his welfare." Moonseer leaned forward. "You will need to fight those instincts every moment. Remember that he may be responsible for murdering our pups. Remember that your true loyalty is to Silvermoon, not to whatever bond magic creates between you."

A chill ran down Marina's spine. "You are asking me to bond with someone and then betray them. While fighting the magic that will make me want to stay loyal."

"Yes." Moonseer did not flinch. "I told you it would be difficult."

"You said it would be unpleasant." Marina laughed bitterly. "That seems to be your favorite word for impossible situations."

The elder stood, gathering her basket. "You have three days. Learn everything in that journal. Practice your cover story until you can recite it in your sleep. And Marina..." She paused at the door. "For what it is worth, I am sorry. If there were any other way…"

"But there is not." Marina clutched the journal to her chest. "Seventeen dead pups, and more dying every week. I know."

After Moonseer left, Marina sat in silence, watching the fire burn low. She should begin studying the journal immediately. Three days was not much time to prepare for a mission that would define the rest of her life, however long that might be.

But first, she had to deal with Ragnar.

The pounding on her door came at midnight, as she had known it would.

"Marina!" Ragnar's voice was barely controlled fury. "Open this door. Now."

She considered ignoring him. Consider pretending to be asleep or away. But Ragnar Strikefast was not the type to give up easily. He would break down the door if necessary, and that would only alert other Silvermoon wolves to his presence. Better to face him and get it over with.

Marina opened the door.

Ragnar stood in the moonlight, and for a moment, she was reminded of why she had agreed to mate him two years ago. He was beautiful in the way of predators, all lean muscle and sharp edges, with black fur that seemed to absorb light. In human form, he stood just over six feet, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders and eyes like polished obsidian.

Right now, those eyes burned with betrayal and rage.

"Explain." One word, clipped and dangerous.

"I cannot." Marina stepped aside to let him enter, knowing that fighting in her doorway would draw attention. "I am sorry, Ragnar. I truly am. But I cannot explain."

He moved into her den with the fluid grace of a warrior, then turned on her with barely leashed violence. "You broke our bond. Without warning. Without discussion. Without even the courtesy of telling me to my face first." His hand shot out, gripping her arm, not hard enough to bruise but firmly enough to prevent escape. "Give me one reason why I should not drag you to Alpha Obsidian right now and demand justice for this insult."

Marina met his gaze steadily, calling on her hybrid ability to make her words persuasive. "Because you know I would not have done this without a compelling reason. Because despite everything, we were friends before we were mates. Because you are better than petty revenge."

Ragnar's grip tightened for a moment, then released. He turned away, shoulders rigid with tension. "I felt it, Marina. Felt the bond dissolving. It was like dying." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I thought you were dying. I ran here thinking I would find you bleeding out, attacked by some enemy. Instead..." He spun back to face her. "Instead I find you chose this. Choose to serve us."

Guilt twisted in Marina's chest. She had been so focused on her own pain, her own mission, that she had not fully considered what this would do to Ragnar. They might not have loved each other romantically, but the bond had been real. Companionship, trust, partnership, all destroyed in one swallow of silver poison.

"I am sorry," she said again, knowing it was inadequate.

"Sorry." Ragnar laughed, a harsh sound with no humor in it. "You are sorry. Well, that certainly makes everything better." He moved closer, his shadow magic beginning to manifest around his hands, darkness that writhed and coiled like living smoke. "Tell me why. That is all I ask. Tell me why, and I will leave you alone."

Marina wanted to. Wanted to share the burden of this impossible mission. I wanted someone to understand what she was about to do. But the Council had been explicit. Tell no one, especially not wolves from other packs.

"I cannot," she whispered.

Something in Ragnar's expression shifted. The rage remained, but now it was joined by something colder. More calculating. "Cannot or will not?"

"Both."

He studied her for a long moment, his shadow magic still dancing around his fingers. Then it dissipated, and he straightened his shoulders. "Very well. If you do not tell me, I will find out myself." He moved toward the door, then paused. "But hear this, Marina. You were mine. You might have broken the bond, but that does not change the fact that you belonged to me."

"I do not belong to anyone," Marina said firmly.

Ragnar's smile was sharp and cold as winter. "We will see about that. Whatever you are planning, whoever you think you are protecting, it will not end well. And when it all falls apart, when you realize you have made a catastrophic mistake..." He opened the door, moonlight spilling across his features. "Do not come crying back to me. You made your choice. Live with it."

He was gone before Marina could respond, disappearing into the night with the silence of a trained assassin.

Marina closed the door and leaned against it, her legs suddenly weak. She had known breaking the bond would anger Ragnar, but the cold finality in his voice had shaken her. He was not just hurt. He was vengeful. And a vengeful Ragnar was dangerous to everyone around him.

She pushed away from the door and returned to the journal, forcing herself to focus. Three days to prepare. Three days to become someone who could catch an Alpha's eye and win his trust. Three days before she walked into Bloodfang territory and gambled everything on a mission that might save her pack or destroy them all.

Marina opened the journal to the first page and began to read.

Outside her window, in the shadows between the trees, Ragnar watched her silhouette moving behind the curtain. His face was expressionless, but his mind worked furiously.

Marina was planning something. Something important enough to break their bond. Something she had hidden even from him.

He would discover what it was. And when he did, he would make sure she regretted choosing secrets over loyalty.

After all, if she could betray him, she could betray anyone.

And betrayal, Ragnar knew, always demanded payment in blood.