Lahat ng Kabanata ng My mate chose my sister : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The news moved through the pack the way all significant news did, not announced, not posted, just suddenly present in every conversation like it had always been there and you had simply not been listening carefully enough before.Ethan Nightfang was coming.I heard it first from the corridor outside my room, two senior pack members walking past my door early on a Monday morning, their voices low with the particular energy of people who considered themselves in possession of important information. I caught the name and went still at my desk the way my wolf went still at the tree line, not moving, not breathing, just listening."Victor confirmed it this morning," one of them said. "Formally requested attendance at the mating ceremony. The whole delegation.""The Nightfangs." A pause loaded with significance. "When was the last time they left their territory for anything less than a war council?""Exactly."Their footsteps faded down the corridor and I sat at my desk with my hands flat o

I heard the convoy before I saw it.Three black SUVs moving through the Blackwood main gates at half past eleven, engines low and unhurried, the sound of people who did not need to announce themselves because their presence announced itself. The kitchen had been building toward a controlled frenzy since six that morning and Greta had us in full service formation by the time the vehicles rolled to a stop in the main courtyard, the kitchen windows giving just enough of an angle that if you positioned yourself at the far end of the prep station, which I had, you could see the edge of the reception line without appearing to look.I appeared to be very focused on arranging the canapé trays.I was watching every single thing.The Blackwood pack's senior wolves had assembled in a formal greeting line along the courtyard's stone path, dressed in their best, faces arranged into the specific expression of people performing both welcome and assessment simultaneously. Victor stood at the front wi

The dinner ended at half past ten and the guests moved to the reception rooms and I was released from service at eleven with aching feet and a mind that would not quiet down.I took the terrace route back to the east block because it was longer and I needed the cold air and the dark and the specific silence of the pack grounds after everyone important had gone inside. The terrace ran along the south face of the main estate, flagstoned and wide, bordered by stone urns that held dead things in winter, overlooking the lower gardens where nothing moved at this hour except the wind through the ornamental hedges.I had a cloth in my hand from the kitchen and I was wiping it between my fingers without thinking, the way your hands kept working after a long service shift, and I was looking at nothing in particular and thinking about Sophia's face at the dinner table and the way Ethan's fingers had brushed mine on the carafe stem and the note in my coat lining that said before I get there in sl

The invitations went out on a Wednesday.I knew because Lily told me, and I knew because the pack's mood shifted the way it always shifted when something inevitable moved from abstract to scheduled, a collective tightening, a change in the quality of the air. The mating ceremony was in eleven days. Printed on heavy cream card stock, delivered by hand to every allied pack in the region, the Blackwood name embossed at the top in gold and Alexander and Sophia's names beneath it like something already settled, already finished, already true.I held one of the invitations in my hands for approximately thirty seconds. One of the kitchen staff had left it on the prep station, not for me, just set down carelessly while she went to answer a question. I read it once. Then I set it back exactly where it had been and went back to work.Eleven days.I had known this was coming. I had been building myself around the knowledge of it for a month, the way you built around a structural element you coul

Marcus Thorn had a habit of doing security sweeps of the pack grounds at irregular hours.I knew this because in the five weeks since the gathering I had learned the movement patterns of every significant wolf in this pack the way you learned the layout of a house you were trapped in. Not from strategy, at first. From the simple necessity of knowing where the danger was before it arrived. Marcus ran his sweeps at dawn, at midday, and at unpredictable intervals throughout the evening, varying the timing specifically so that anyone watching the schedule would not be able to predict the gaps. It was the method of a man who took security seriously and understood that predictability was its own vulnerability.I had noticed. I had respected it, at a distance, the way you respected competence in people who were not on your side.What I had not expected was to be the thing he found during a sweep.It was late Friday afternoon, three days into the Nightfang visit, and I had taken the long rout