Chapter four: The Pack House

The pack house looms against the darkening sky like something out of a nightmare.

It's a sprawling Victorian mansion, all sharp angles and dark windows. Sera hasn't been here in five years she was dragged out the front door the night of her exile, bleeding and broken.

Now she's walking back in through those same doors, Dante at her side.

The entire pack is assembled in the great hall. Fifty wolves, maybe more, all turned to watch as their alpha entered with the woman they were told to forget.

The whispers start immediately.

"Is that really her?"

"I thought she was dead."

"The alpha's brought back his whore."

Dante's growl silences them. "Anyone who has a problem with Sera Blackwood can take it up with me. Personally."

No one speaks.

He leads her through the crowd to where Celeste's body lies on a white sheet. Someone had closed her eyes, tried to make her look peaceful. It doesn't work. The gaping wound in her throat and the carved symbol on her shoulder tell a different story.

"Who found her?" Dante asks.

A young wolf steps forward, barely twenty, trembling with fear and adrenaline. "I did, Alpha. I was on perimeter patrol. She was already dead when I got here."

"How long?"

"The blood was fresh. Maybe twenty minutes."

Dante crouches beside the body, studying the symbol. "Same as the others. Three lines intersecting."

"It's a warning," Sera says quietly. "From whoever has Maya. They're showing us what they can do."

"Then they made a mistake." Dante stands, addressing the assembled pack. "Someone in this territory is killing our people. They've murdered Thomas, Jessica, Rebecca, and now Celeste. They're hunting us, and they think we're too afraid to fight back."

His voice rises, carrying through the hall. "They're wrong."

The pack responds with howls of agreement.

"We're going on lockdown," Dante continues. "No one leaves pack territory without my permission. Everyone travels in groups of three or more. And if you see anything suspicious—anything—you report it immediately."

"What about her?" someone shouts, pointing at Sera. "She shows up and wolves start dying!"

"Sera Blackwood is under my protection," Dante says, his voice dropping to something dangerous. "Anyone who touches her answers to me."

The objector shrinks back.

"Now get out," Dante orders. "All of you. Except for pack leadership."

The crowd disperses slowly, wolves throwing suspicious glances at Sera as they leave. When the hall is finally empty except for six people, Dante visibly relaxes.

"Report," he says to the remaining wolves—his inner circle.

Marcus speaks first. "Patrols have found nothing. No strange scents, no tracks. Whoever's doing this knows how to hide their trail."

"Or they're pack," offers Natasha, a lean woman with sharp features. "Someone we'd never suspect."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Dante pulls the note from Celeste's body. "Look at this. The handwriting. It's deliberate, educated. Not the work of a rogue."

Sera takes the note, studying it. You're all going to pay for what you did. Starting with the alpha's whore.

"They're targeting people connected to Connor's death," she says. "But they called me out specifically. Why?"

"Because you're the one who got away," offers James, a scarred beta with kind eyes. "You survived when Connor didn't. Maybe that pisses them off."

"Or maybe they think you know something," Natasha adds. "Something worth killing for."

Sera's mind flashes to David Chen's words. Connor's journal. He gave it to Thomas Crane.

"We need to search Thomas's house," she says abruptly.

Dante looks at her. "Why?"

"Because David Chen told me Connor kept a journal. His last entry said to find me if anything happened to him. Thomas was holding it."

"Thomas is dead. His house was cleared out weeks ago."

"By who?"

Dante hesitates. "The council. They said they were securing the pack property."

"Or securing evidence," Sera counters. "Dante, what if the journal is still there? Hidden somewhere the council didn't find?"

"It's worth a shot." He turns to Marcus. "Get me the keys to Thomas's house."

"Alpha, the council specifically said."

"I don't care what the council said. Get me the keys."

Marcus nods and disappears through a side door.

Sera checks her phone. Still no new messages from Maya's kidnapper. The silence is worse than threats.

"It's almost seven," she says. "We have two hours until the council meeting. Five until the midnight deadline."

"Then we move fast." Dante looks at his remaining pack members. "Natasha, James—I want you searching for Maya. Check every abandoned building, every warehouse. The kidnapper has to be keeping her somewhere."

"What about the mill?" James asks. "That's where they want the exchange."

"Which means they're not keeping her there. Too obvious." Dante's jaw clenches. "They'll have her somewhere we won't think to look."

"What about the old paper mill?" Sera suggests. "Where Jessica was found. It's large, lots of hiding places."

"Already searched it after Jessica's murder," Natasha says. "Nothing."

"Search it again," Dante orders. "And take flashlights. If there's a basement or sub-level, I want it cleared."

They nod and leave.

Now it's just Sera and Dante in the great hall, with Celeste's body between them.

"This feels like we're in over our heads," Sera admits.

"We are." Dante moves closer, his hand finding hers. "But we don't have a choice. Either we solve this, or we're all dead."

"Inspiring."

"I'm not good at inspirational speeches." His thumb traces circles on her palm. "But I'm good at keeping promises. And I promised myself five years ago that if I ever got another chance with you, I wouldn't waste it."

Sera's breath catches. "Dante, we can't do this right now."

"When, then? After the council tries to execute me? After Maya's dead? After the killer finds us?" He cups her face. "I've spent five years living half a life. I'm done waiting."

"We don't have time."

"We never have time. That's the point." His forehead rests against hers. "I love you. I never stopped. And whatever happens tonight, I need you to know that."

Tears burn Sera's eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Probably."

"I love you too. God help me, I never stopped either."

He kisses her then, and it's like coming home after a long exile. His hands are in her hair, her arms around his neck, five years of longing compressed into one desperate moment.

When they break apart, they're both breathing hard.

"We survive tonight," Dante says. "Then we have this conversation properly."

"Deal."

Marcus returns with a key ring. "Thomas's house. But Alpha, if the council finds out—"

"They won't." Dante takes the keys. "Everyone at that meeting thinks we're preparing our evidence. Let them think that."

They leave through the back entrance, avoiding the pack members still milling in the courtyard. Dante's truck is parked behind the garage. They're pulling out when Sera spots a figure watching from an upper window.

Elder Victoria. Dante's aunt.

She doesn't wave. Just watches them go with an expression Sera can't read.

"Your aunt hates me," Sera says as they drive.

"My aunt hates everyone who threatens her control over the pack." Dante's hands tighten on the wheel. "Including me."

"You think she's capable of murder?"

"I think she's capable of anything if she believes it serves the pack." He glances at Sera. "Five years ago, she voted to execute you. No hesitation, no mercy. Said you were a threat to pack stability."

"What was I threatening? I was just a mid-level wolf who fell in love with her nephew."

"You were a wolf with no family connections, no political value. She wanted me to mate with someone useful. Someone who could strengthen alliances." Dante's voice hardens. "When I refused, when I chose you anyway, she saw it as defiance. Weakness."

"Is that why the council turned on me so fast? Because Victoria convinced them?"

"Partially. But Connor's death gave them the excuse they needed." He turns onto a residential street. "They blamed you for it. Said you'd driven him to challenge the council."

"I barely knew Connor."

"I know. But the narrative was convenient." Dante parks in front of a modest two-story house. "Welcome to Thomas's place. Let's hope he left us something useful."

The house is dark, obviously empty. Yellow police tape still crosses the front door—human police, called when Thomas's body was found. Dante ignores it, using the key to let them in.

Inside, the house smells stale. Dust covers every surface.

"The council really did clear this place out," Sera says, looking at the empty bookshelves, the bare walls. "Where do we even start?"

"Thomas was paranoid. If he hid something, it wouldn't be obvious." Dante moves through the living room, checking behind picture frames, under cushions. "Think like him. Where would you hide something you never wanted found?"

Sera closes her eyes, trying to remember Thomas. He'd been cautious, intelligent, always three steps ahead.

"Somewhere no one would think to look," she murmurs. "Somewhere that seems too obvious to be a hiding place."

Her eyes open. "The basement."

They find the door behind the kitchen. The stairs creak as they descend into darkness. Dante uses his phone's flashlight to illuminate the space.

It's a typical basement—concrete floor, exposed beams, boxes of old belongings. But there's something off about the back wall.

Sera approaches it, running her hands over the cinderblocks. "Here. This section sounds hollow."

Dante joins her, pressing against the blocks. One moves. Then another. Behind them, a small cavity reveals itself.

Inside sits a leather-bound journal.

"Jackpot," Dante breathes.

Sera pulls it out with shaking hands. Connor's name is embossed on the cover in gold letters. She opens to the first page.

If you're reading this, I'm probably dead. And you need to know the truth about Crimson Hollow Pack.

"This is it," Sera says. "This is what they've been killing for."

She flips through pages of dense handwriting, stopping at random entries.

August 12th: Witnessed Elder Patricia accepting bribes from the Riverside Pack. Money in exchange for territory concessions.

September 3rd: Overheard Elder Richard discussing 'dealing with' pack members who question council decisions. The implications are terrifying.

October 1st: I think the council is planning something big. Something that will change the pack forever. I need to find proof.

"Connor was investigating the council," Dante says, reading over her shoulder. "He knew they were corrupt."

"Keep going." Sera flips to the end, to the final entry dated five years ago.

October 30th: Tonight's the night. I have proof of everything—the bribes, the murders, the secret deals with other packs. But I need Sera Blackwood's help to expose it. She's the only one I can trust, the only one outside the council's influence.

I'm going to give this journal to Thomas for safekeeping. If anything happens to me, find Sera. Tell her the truth: I discovered the council is planning to merge with the Riverside Pack. Not an alliance—a full merger. They're going to dissolve Crimson Hollow and divide the territory.

Elder Victoria is leading the plan. She's promised every council member power in the new pack structure. But the merger requires eliminating anyone who might object. Starting with Alpha Dante, who would never agree to this.

They're going to frame Sera for my murder. Use her exile to force Dante to step down. Then they'll put someone they control in his place.

If you're reading this, stop them. Stop Victoria before she destroys everything.

The journal falls from Sera's hands.

"Your aunt," she whispers. "She planned all of it. Connor's death, my exile—everything was to get you out of power."

Dante's face has gone gray. "And now she's killing everyone who knows the truth. Tying up loose ends before she can finalize the merger."

"The council meeting tonight. What if it's not about reviewing your fitness?" Sera's stomach churns. "What if it's the final step? What if they're planning to—"

"Assassinate me and blame it on the same killer who's been murdering pack members." Dante's eyes flash gold. "Make it look like I got caught in the crossfire."

"We have to stop them."

"With what? Connor's journal?" Dante picks it up. "This is just words. We need actual proof of the merger, of the bribes—"

His phone rings. He answers. "What?"

His expression changes from grim to horrified.

"We're on our way." He ends the call and grabs Sera's hand. "Natasha found Maya. She's alive."

"Thank God—"

"She's in the old paper mill. But Sera, there's a bomb. The place is rigged to explode."

The world tilts sideways.

"How long?" Sera manages.

"Forty-five minutes."

They run.

The drive to the paper mill takes ten minutes that feel like ten seconds. Sera's mind races. A bomb. The kidnapper isn't planning to exchange Maya for the phone. They're planning to kill everyone at once.

"This is a trap," she says as they speed down the highway. "They want us at the mill. All of us."

"I know." Dante's jaw is set. "But we can't leave Maya there."

"They're going to blow the building whether we show up or not."

"Not if I can disarm it first."

Sera stares at him. "Do you even know how to disarm a bomb?"

"I was in the military before I became alpha. Explosives training was part of it." He glances at her. "I can do this."

The mill appears ahead—a massive concrete structure, half-collapsed from decades of neglect. Natasha's motorcycle is parked outside. She's pacing, phone pressed to her ear.

When she sees Dante's truck, she runs over.

"Alpha, thank God. I found Maya in the basement, but the bomb is—"

"Show me," Dante interrupts.

They follow Natasha through a gap in the mill's wall. Inside, it's a maze of rusted machinery and broken windows. Moonlight streams through holes in the roof.

Maya is exactly where the kidnapper's video showed her—tied to a chair in what used to be the administrative basement. Duct tape covers her mouth. Her eyes widen when she sees Sera.

"I'm here, I'm here," Sera says, working on the ropes. "We're getting you out."

Maya spits out the tape the moment Sera removes it. "There's a bomb! I saw him set it—"

"We know. Where is it?"

"Against the far wall. Behind those metal tanks."

Dante is already moving. Sera follows, leaving Natasha to free Maya.

The bomb is sophisticated—digital timer, multiple wires, enough C-4 to level the building. The timer reads 00:32:14 and counting.

"Can you disarm it?" Sera asks.

Dante studies the device, his face expressionless. "Maybe. But if I get it wrong—"

"Then we all die." Sera grabs his face, forcing him to look at her. "I trust you."

He nods once, then gets to work.

Sera watches the timer tick down. 00:31:00. 00:30:45. 00:30:30.

"Dante," she says quietly. "If this doesn't work—"

"It'll work."

"But if it doesn't, I need you to know—"

"Sera." He looks up from the wires. "I know. Me too."

A sound from above makes them both freeze. Footsteps. Multiple sets, moving through the upper levels.

"Someone's here," Natasha hisses from across the room. She's got Maya on her feet, but Maya's weak, barely able to stand.

"Get her out," Dante orders. "Now."

"What about you?"

"I need three more minutes with this bomb. Go!"

Natasha hesitates, then half-carries Maya toward the exit.

The footsteps are getting closer.

Sera pulls a piece of rebar from the rubble. "I'll buy you time."

"Sera—"

"Three minutes. I can give you three minutes."

She moves to the stairs, positioning herself between Dante and whoever's coming. Her wolf rises to the surface, ready to fight.

The footsteps stop at the top of the stairs.

Then a familiar voice echoes through the mill.

"Sera Blackwood. I've been waiting for this moment for five years."

A figure descends into view, and Sera's blood turns to ice.

Because the person standing at the top of the stairs, the person behind all the murders and chaos, isn't Elder Victoria.

It's Connor Davis.

Very much alive.