Chapter 429

Chapter 429
Chapter 429
THORNE

Nightwalkers poured from the shadows—not from inside the warehouse, but from the surrounding buildings we'd thought were clear. They'd been waiting, watching us breach the empty structure, timing their assault for maximum effectiveness.
"Contact!" I shouted, opening fire. "Multiple hostiles, ambush pattern!"
My team responded instantly, forming defensive positions and returning fire. But we were caught in the open, halfway between the compromised warehouse and actual cover, exactly where any competent tactical planner would want their enemies.
Jerome was proving to be a very competent tactical planner.
"Alpha Command, Delta Team under heavy assault!" I reported between bursts of gunfire. "Ambush force, estimated twenty plus combatants, requesting immediate support!"
"All teams reporting similar attacks," Xenois responded, his voice tight. "This is a coordinated counteroffensive. We walked into a trap. All teams fall back to rally points, regroup and—"
Static cut off his transmission.
"Alpha Command, do you copy?" I tried. "Xenois? Anyone?"
Nothing but empty static. They'd jammed our communications somehow. Cut us off from each other and from command coordination.
We were on our own.
"Defensive formation!" I commanded my team. "Fighting retreat toward the extraction point! Move!"
We fought our way through nightwalkers and fae and creatures I didn't have time to identify, all of them seemingly coordinated by some central intelligence. Every time we cleared one group, another appeared to block our path.
This wasn't random chaos. This was organized resistance designed to prevent our escape.
"They're herding us," Marcus realized. "Pushing us away from extraction points toward—I don't know. Something."
He was right. The attacks were concentrated in specific directions, leaving other paths conspicuously open. They wanted us to flee a certain way.
Which meant going that way was definitely a bad idea.
"Alternative route," I decided. "Northeast, through that industrial complex. It's not the direct path to extraction but—"
"But it's not where they want us to go," Klaus finished. "Good call."
We altered course, fighting through lighter resistance as we moved away from the path Jerome's forces were trying to funnel us down. Whatever trap they'd prepared, we weren't walking into it.
My radio crackled suddenly—brief, broken transmission that cut through the jamming for just a moment.
"—under heavy—need backup—coordinates—" Riley's voice, high and young and terrified in a way that made my blood run cold.
Riley. Five-year-old Riley who was supposed to be safe at the pack house with his brothers, not anywhere near this operation.
"Riley?" I tried. "Riley, where are you? What's happening?"
Only static answered.
"Fuck," I breathed. Because if Riley was in danger, if somehow Jerome had gotten to the children while we were scattered across multiple territories fighting his decoy forces—
"Thorne." Marcus's voice, sharp with urgency. "You need to see this."
He was pointing at something in the distance, visible through the industrial complex's broken windows. A plume of smoke rising from the direction of our pack house.
Our home territory. Where we'd left the children under guard while we executed these operations.
"No," I whispered. "He didn't. He wouldn't—"
But of course he would. What better way to counter our offensive than to attack what we'd left vulnerable? What better target than the children who'd humiliated his forces during the school invasion?
"New objective," I announced, already running. "We're going home. Now. Everyone who can move, follow me. Everyone who can't—find safe extraction and report to secondary rally points."
"Thorne, we don't know the situation there," Klaus protested even as he ran beside me. "Could be a trap, could be disinformation—"
"That was Riley's voice on the radio," I cut him off. "Scared and calling for help. I'm not leaving him and his brothers to face whatever Jerome sent while we're out here chasing shadows."
I opened a channel to every team frequency, hoping something would get through the jamming. "All strike forces, this is Delta Leader. Pack house is under attack. Repeat, home territory compromised. All teams return to defend immediately. Alpha Command, if you can hear this—your children need you."
No response. Just static and the distant sound of explosions from multiple directions.
Jerome had planned this perfectly. Lured us out with false targets, ambushed us when we were scattered, jammed our communications to prevent coordination, and then attacked our home while our forces were committed elsewhere.
It was brilliant, tactically speaking.
It was also going to get him killed when I got my hands on him.
We ran through the industrial complex, fighting through sporadic resistance that seemed more focused on delaying than stopping us. They wanted us to waste time, to arrive too late to make a difference.
That wasn't happening.
I channeled every bit of enhanced speed I possessed, outdistancing my team as I raced toward home. Toward the pack house where three five-year-olds and one seventeen-year-old were facing god-knew-what kind of assault force.
The smoke plume grew larger as I approached, and I could hear fighting now—gunfire, explosions, the distinctive sounds of supernatural combat. Whatever Jerome had sent, it was significant.
I burst through the tree line surrounding our territory and immediately had to dodge a plasma blast that carved through the space where my head had been.
"Friendly!" I shouted. "Delta Leader, friendly forces!"
"Thorne!" Shawn's voice, from somewhere above. He was positioned on the roof of the pack house, using his elevated position to rain plasma blasts down on attackers. "About fucking time! We've been holding them off for twenty minutes!"
I assessed the situation rapidly. Jerome's forces had surrounded the pack house, trying to breach from multiple angles. Our home guards were fighting desperately but clearly outnumbered. And on the roof—
All four boys. Riley, Lake, Ollie, and Shawn, positioned like they'd been trained for this, coordinating defense with the kind of tactical precision that should have been impossible for children.
"Status!" I demanded, taking cover behind a overturned vehicle and opening fire on the nearest cluster of attackers.
"They hit us right after you left," Riley called down, his voice steady now despite the terror I'd heard earlier. "Coordinated assault, multiple entry points, estimated forty combatants. We've eliminated or repelled approximately half using defensive protocols I established after the school attack."
"You established defensive protocols," I repeated, not sure whether to be impressed or horrified.
"Someone had to," Riley said matter-of-factly. "Lake is maintaining evacuation portals for wounded guards. Ollie is coordinating ammunition distribution. Shawn is providing long-range offensive capability. I'm directing tactical response."
They'd turned the pack house into a fortress. Using abilities they'd been developing in secret, implementing plans they'd apparently made without adult supervision.
They were five years old and running a defensive operation that was actually working.
"Where's Lumina?" I asked, suddenly realizing I hadn't seen her.
"Inside with Grandma and Grandpa," Ollie reported. "Protecting the younger children who couldn't fight."
"And Xenois?"
"Communications are jammed," Riley said. "We can't reach Dad or any of the other teams. You're the first reinforcement to arrive."
Which meant Jerome's jamming was still active. Which meant our strike forces were still scattered, still isolated, still unable to coordinate.
We were on our own.
"How long can you hold?" I asked.
"Indefinitely if they don't escalate," Riley said. "But Thorne—they're not trying to breach anymore. They're just—containing us. Keeping us pinned down."
I looked around and realized he was right. The attacks had shifted from aggressive assault to defensive containment. They were keeping us busy, keeping us trapped here.
Which meant this wasn't the real attack either.
"It's another diversion," I said, cold realization settling in my gut. "They're keeping us pinned here while—"
My radio crackled again, another broken transmission cutting through the jamming.
"—Lumina—taken—portal—coordinates unknown—"
Silvia's voice. Panicked in a way I'd never heard from the legendary former Luna.
"Say again!" I demanded. "Silvia, what happened to Lumina?"
"Portal opened inside the safe room," Silvia's voice came through broken and desperate. "They took her. Ripped her through before we could react. Lumina's gone."
The world seemed to slow down around me.
They'd taken Lumina.
While we were scattered fighting decoy forces, while the children were pinned down defending the pack house, while our communications were jammed and our coordination was broken—someone had portaled directly into our most secure location and taken Xenois's mate.
"Was it Jerome?" I asked, already knowing the answer would complicate everything.
"No," Silvia said, her voice breaking on the word. "It wasn't Jerome's people. The portal—it felt wrong. Like death and time and something I don't have words for. Thorne, I think—I think it was the necromancer. I think Janice came to collect her debt early."

THE END!

Author's Note: We have finally come to the end of this book. I know you guys hate me, I hate myself too.
Is there going to be a sequel? Yes.
When? 2026. Month varies, it can come as early as January.
And I hope to see you all especially in the sequel of this book.
Merry Xmas in advance and a Prosperous New Year.
A.Leilani