CHAPTER 34: THE INVISIBLE WATCHER

It’ll take me about two hours to reach the mansion, and I plan to arrive just before sunset. My mates and I had some sexy downtime before I geared up my motorcycle and hit the road. Halfway there, I stopped to refuel and grabbed snacks and water before continuing the uneventful ride.

As I turn onto the road leading to the mansion, I glance around. Across the street, a thick stretch of woods offers the perfect spot to set up camp. I pull out my heat sensors and power them on, search and verify the coast is clear. According to Alexis, the spell runs on batteries—so when the devices are active, the witch-detecting sensor activates too. Even better, the sensor recharges the batteries as long as it’s running. Genius.

Alright, let’s stash the bike and get settled, I tell Cece. Having her to talk to makes a world of difference—it’s not just me muttering to myself, and it keeps the loneliness at bay. I’ve come so far since before I met her and my mates. I can’t imagine life without them now.

Just before the mansion, a narrow trail cuts into the woods. I roll onto the dirt path and pause, checking an aerial map on my phone. A dense patch of trees runs parallel to the road—ideal for concealment. Perfect.

I push the bike as far as possible before the underbrush becomes too thick. After wedging it between two fallen logs and covering it with foliage, I sling my second backpack over my shoulder and hike to the spot I’d scouted. Then, I scan the area for a climbable tree.

After a few minutes of searching, I find the perfect oak—thick trunk, sturdy branches fanning out in all directions, and a flat, stable spot in the middle for a comfortable perch. This would be perfect for a treehouse. I climb to the right height, unpack my vacuum-sealed pillows (travel-friendly and space-saving), and arrange them on a blanket. My backpacks hang from nearby branches for easy access.

Spreading out a paper map of the property, I peer through my binoculars at the mansion. A few obstructing branches need trimming, but otherwise, the view is flawless. I mark guard positions in red and potential camera spots in blue, planning to place them after dark.

Switching my binoculars to night vision after dark, I observe guard rotations for hours. Only one camera location needs adjusting—otherwise, everything’s set. The moonless sky works in my favor, draping the area in near-total darkness.

To be extra cautious, I tuck my hair under a black hoodie and pull on a face mask. Even if someone spots me, they won’t recognize me.

With night vision goggles secured and sensors clipped to my belt, I climb down. I check for any loose gear—no rattling, no mistakes. Stealth is critical since I’m planting cameras in high-risk spots.

Darting to the tree line, I scan for movement. The coast is clear, so I sprint across the street and duck behind a large rock. My sensors confirm everything’s operational—two enemy sensors deactivated, one camera that would’ve spotted me but didn’t. Technology is a beautiful thing.

Spotting the first target tree, I wait near the wall until a patrolling guard moves on. Then, I scale the trunk and secure the tiny camera. It’s mounted on hooked prongs—stabbed into the bark, they grip like fishhooks, making removal impossible without damaging the tree. When I retrieve the camera later, I’ll leave the prongs behind; the tree will grow around them harmlessly.

After a final check on the monitor to ensure no adjustments are needed, I descend and move to the next location. This time, no guards are nearby, but I stay alert—no room for surprises.

The second spot is trickier: a smooth-walled tree with no climbable branches. Worse, the camera needs to go on the slick wall itself. Chimney-style, I brace between the tree and wall, shimmying up until I reach the top. Still clear.

I press a white camera into a crevice on a wall-mounted statue, securing it with ultra-strong double-sided tape. It’s weatherproof and nearly invisible—just another imperfection in the stone.

Just as I prepared to climb down, footsteps echoed around the corner. Without hesitation, I grabbed a walnut I’d taken from the other tree and tossed it behind the guard. Distracted by the sound, he moved to investigate, giving me the chance to slip down the wall unnoticed. That was too damn close.

My next target was trickier—a corner patrolled by two guards. But it was the only viable spot to plant the camera on this side of the house. I waited nearly 25 minutes for the right moment before scaling the wall, securing the white camera on the statue, and dropping back down just as one guard returned. Crouching in the shadows, I steadied my breathing, willing my pounding heart to slow.

The final camera would be easier—just a matter of circling back the way I’d come. This one would sit in a tree, slightly farther from the wall. Reaching it, I scanned the area. Clear. I climbed up, secured the device, and exhaled in relief.

With all cameras in place, I retreated to my tree. Once safely hidden, I whispered a silent thanks to whatever deity might be watching—my usual ritual after a successful stealth mission.

Inside my makeshift hideout, I draped a sheet—black on one side, camouflaged on the other—to mask any light from my monitor. Satisfied, I powered it on. All four feeds were live, transmitting securely to my phone via a closed circuit with minimal signal output. Nothing stored locally, nothing traceable.

Watching the guards patrol on my phone, I grinned. Perfect.

“I’m so glad you’re on our side. You’re ridiculously good at this. We should call you Sneaky Sneaker,” Cece laughed, and I joined in.

Content with the setup, I hit record and stashed the monitor in my backpack. Thank goodness I’d asked Alexis to tweak the cameras—invisible to anyone but me—and rig my monitor’s battery the same way. Genius.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Luke. He’d been called into the office for an important meeting and wouldn’t be home for a while. He answered immediately. “Hello, my beautiful Luna,” he said warmly.

“Hey, my handsome Alpha,” I replied.

“Hmm, you’ve never called any of my brothers handsome. Does that mean I’m your favorite?” I could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

“Sure, if that’s what helps you sleep at night,” I teased with a laugh.

“Mi alma, none of us will sleep properly until you’re safe in our arms again.” Despite only being apart for six or seven hours, his voice carried exhaustion.

“I miss you too. Just three more days, and I’ll be home. I just wanted to say goodnight—I set up the cameras and I’m heading to bed now,” I explained, keeping my promise to check in.

We talked a while longer as he updated me on company business. I offered my thoughts, and though he claimed it helped, I wasn’t entirely convinced.

After hanging up, I called Zane, assuming he’d be the last of the three still awake. Surprisingly, Dean picked up.

“Mi alma, I was just thinking about you,” he answered.

“Oh, as if you ever stop,” I joked, earning a soft laugh from him.

“I just spoke with Luke and wanted to check in with the rest of you. The cameras are up and running—Alexis’s spell worked perfectly. We’ll see how the rechargeable battery charm holds up by morning. I’m about to sleep, but I wanted to hear your voices. I miss you,” I admitted.

“We miss you too,” Jason chimed in.

“Call us the second you wake up, no matter how early,” Zane insisted.

I smiled. “Will do.”

They filled me in on Luke’s plans for expanding the pack’s territory, which they all supported.

“The only issue is finding space. We tried buying the southern land last year, but the council won’t budge,” Dean said.

“True, but once we dismantle the Blood Moon Pack and take their territory? Problem solved,” I pointed out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea. We’ll discuss it after the mission,” Dean said with a chuckle.

We talked a little longer before saying goodnight. Then, finally, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.