chapter 179

chapter 179
Blood's POV

I watched from the corner as Alexander, Lucas, and Tristan entered the back room of Dark Moon Bar with Arabella between them. This place in the city center was known among our kind as neutral ground—humans thought it was just another dive bar, but for us, it was where deals and negotiations happened without bloodshed.

My attention immediately fixed on Arabella. She looked like hell—eyes red and swollen, not like someone who'd been crying for minutes, but hours. The sight of her hit Landon hard. I could feel him desperately struggling somewhere deep inside me, frantic and primal, as if he could actually do something useful.

She's afraid, War. She needs us.

No, she doesn't. She has them now, idiot. How many times did I have to explain this shit to him?

But—

And what the fuck do you think you'd do anyway? Hug her? Cry with her like some little bitch? You'd just get us killed.

I wasn't going to die for feelings that weren't even mine.

The whole room smelled of tension—werewolves, liquor, fear, and anger all swirling together into something toxic. Alexander cradled her against his chest while she held herself, arms wrapped tight like she was trying to keep from falling apart all over again.

Landon was losing it.

I clenched my jaw hard, forcing him back into the deepest corner of our mind. Not now. Get the fuck back.

But he never listened. His sick obsession was pounding louder in my head—sharp and hungry, like a wire pulled too tight.

She's scared, War. She needs us.

No, she doesn't. She already has them, dumbass.

And what the hell did he think he could do? Comfort her? Fucking pathetic. He'd just get us both killed.

I made eye contact with her across the room. She gave me a small, tired smile—the kind people give when their world is collapsing but they're still trying to hold it together. Something in my chest tightened. Twisted. Constricted. I hated that feeling. She was our weakness. Had been since she was just a little girl.

Across the room, Asher was still debating strategy with Declan. Something about Frank Carter and his wandering wolves.

I heard it, but only half-listened. My attention kept drifting back to her.

Arabella quickly wiped away a tear, trying to erase it before anyone noticed. But I saw it.

It pissed me off. Because she was trying so hard to be strong—but she looked like someone accepting that they'd lost everything.

I glanced over at Alexander. He was like a loaded weapon—all rage and restraint. That scar between his eyebrows twitched slightly, and when our eyes met briefly, I could feel the threat.

The killer switch inside him was flipped. He wasn't human right now. He was something else.

And Landon—that fucking idiot—wanted to challenge that?

Landon wasn't talking, but I could feel him circling beneath the surface. Hungry. Obsessive. Dangerous as hell.

Alexander knew we knew about Wesley's death—he'd just told everyone himself. That shit alone was enough to get us skinned alive.

Maybe we should pay Frank another visit, Landon suggested eagerly.

Shut up, Landon. That's not the plan.

But seriously—what the hell were we supposed to do now?

Arabella had a million-dollar bounty on her head. That kind of money would bring monsters crawling out of hell itself.

The courts weren't an option—unless Asher wanted to turn the courthouse into a slaughterhouse. I didn't think his lawyers could pull off that miracle.

Declan left, and Asher dismissed the extra people. Now we were finally getting to the real shit. How to deal with Frank and the Wandering Wolves.

While they were discussing the plan for three days from now, Arabella suddenly spoke up, her voice quiet but firm: "I'll participate. As bait."

Everyone's head snapped toward her.

"No." Alexander growled, his voice pure steel.

"Absolutely not." Lucas gritted out.

"Not without us, you're not going anywhere." Tristan added, his tone just as resolute.

They were right. If she thought she could face Frank alone, she was out of her fucking mind.

She was pregnant, vulnerable, with a giant target on her back.

"You have no idea how serious this is, little psycho." I said coldly, staring her down. "Whatever shit you've got in your head? It won't work. You wouldn't last a night."

She sighed, looking defeated. "I just... want this to end. I can't keep hiding."

"Well, that's a fucking stupid idea."

I knew the others probably didn't appreciate my tone—but fuck them. I wasn't going to sugarcoat this for her. If she wanted to live, she needed to use her damn brain.

She bit her lip and looked away. But I wasn't done.

"You think anyone who catches you is going to be gentle? They won't deliver you to Frank in a fucking golden carriage. Wake up. They'll drug you, rape you, torture you, and tear you apart piece by piece. Then hand whatever's left to Frank."

The bastard hadn't specified she needed to be intact. He didn't care. He just wanted her to suffer first.

"You think any of us could live with that?" I demanded through clenched teeth.

No one jumped in to soften the blow. Because they all knew I was right.

She swallowed hard, her voice catching. "I just... I hate this. People will die because of me. I'm putting everyone in danger."

"This isn't your fault, baby," Lucas reminded her.

"We need a plan. Together," Tristan added.

Alexander just made a low sound of agreement, his hand still stroking her stomach.

"Trust me," I continued, "if we could design a controlled environment where you'd be bait, with enough safeguards to keep you protected, maybe it could work. But it would require serious protection."

She was still struggling, still wrestling with herself. But finally... she nodded.

"Okay, you're right. We need a plan, not just rushing in."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, little psycho?"

She glared at me, a little fire returning to her eyes. "You heard me, asshole."

That's more like it.

Before I could respond, Lucas jumped in. "Alright, we need a solid plan. Three days from now, we set a trap at the boundary. Arabella will be present, but under heavy protection."

"Three days, and this ends," Alexander muttered, his jaw tight. "Or this threat will never stop."

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. "I can participate. As Black Moon's representative, monitoring certain areas."

Asher raised an eyebrow. "You're joking?"

I shook my head. "No. I know Frank's tactics, where he'll station his men for ambushes. I can place countermeasures, eliminate threats before they materialize."

"That's not safe," Asher objected.

"Cooperation is our only option," I shrugged. "We have a common enemy."

Alexander remained silent. But he wasn't objecting. That meant he was considering it.

Lucas nodded slowly. "We do need Black Moon's cooperation to make the trap look convincing."

Landon was buzzing in my head. Wherever she goes... we have to protect her.

Will they even let you get close? Don't be stupid. They know you're obsessed with their woman.

I'll be good. Let you stay in control.

Bullshit. You said that last time too.

Please, War. I know you want to go too.

He was right, and I hated that he was right. I fucking hated that desperate edge to his voice.

Don't make me regret this.

"I'll cover the western vantage point," I said. "Declan will agree. This way we can prevent any surprises."

Alexander studied me like he wanted to peel my skin off—Landon better remember that this fucker could actually do it.

Then he looked at Lucas and Tristan, who both nodded.

He turned back to me. "Can you control him? Control Landon?"

"Yes."

I meant it.

I've been getting stronger these past weeks.

Stronger than him. Stronger than his obsession.

And if that ever changed? If Landon ever crossed a line?

I'd end it all myself.

Put a bullet in our brain before he could do anything against her will.

He knew it.

This time... he stayed quiet.

Just silently satisfied that we'd be near her.

Asher gave me a cold look that could cut skin. "If Declan double-crosses us, I promise you'll join him in hell."

I didn't flinch. "If he tries to hurt her, I'll kill him myself."

Lucas nodded. "Then it's settled. Three days from now, we move."

Arabella hesitated, biting her lip. "I... I think Alice should stay somewhere safe. With Esme. Until this is over."

The room fell silent.

Alexander spoke first, his voice rough. "Puppy—"

"It's the best option," she cut him off, words rushing out like each one burned her throat. "I can't put her at risk because of me. If anything happened to her..." She swallowed hard. "Like I said, I'm the target. I'll participate in the plan, but she needs to be somewhere safe."

No one spoke.

Even I could see that the decision was tearing her apart.

But she made it anyway.

Because she loved that little girl more than anything.

She'd rather rip herself to pieces than see her harmed.

It was the right choice.

What would happen next, I didn't know if any of us would walk away clean.

But one thing was clear: three days from now, Frank Carter needed to die—the sooner, the better.