Chapter 13: Boundaries Crossed

Aidan was already halfway out the door before I moved.

The howl still echoed in the air, carried by the wind like a warning sent straight from the trees. It wasn’t just any call. I knew that now.

This was a challenge.

A line crossed.

I bolted after Aidan, catching up as he stormed across the courtyard. His warriors were already assembling—some shifting mid-step, bones cracking as fur tore through skin. The air was thick with tension and the rising scent of wild power.

I scanned the treeline.

Nothing.

But I could feel them.

Watching.

Waiting.

Aidan growled low in his throat, the sound more beast than man. “They’re testing us. Seeing how we respond.”

“What do they want?” I asked, heart pounding.

He glanced at me, eyes glowing faintly. “Blood. Fear. Chaos.”

“And what are we going to give them?”

His lips curled into a cold smile. “Nothing.”

\---

Within minutes, the warriors had fanned out along the perimeter of the eastern woods. Aidan gave quiet, rapid orders—no panic, no retreat. Just steady, controlled presence. The kind of leadership that made even the most restless wolves fall in line.

I stood at his side, trying to stay in the background while keeping my eyes on everyone around us.

And that’s when I noticed him.

A man I hadn’t seen before. Lean. Tall. Standing a little too far from the formation. Wearing a neutral face that felt too blank to be real.

He didn’t look afraid.

He looked interested.

Our eyes met.

He turned and walked away—too calmly.

“Who is that?” I asked Aidan.

He barely glanced over. “That’s Ryder. Old blood. One of my father’s top advisors. He was away when the bond was announced, but he’s been back for a day or two.”

“Didn’t introduce himself.”

Aidan shrugged. “He’s not warm and fuzzy.”

“He’s watching me,” I said.

Now Aidan turned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not just watching me like I’m new. He’s watching me like he’s… waiting.”

Aidan’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t argue. “I’ll look into it.”

I nodded, pretending to brush a stray hair from my face—just an excuse to glance back across the clearing.

Ryder was gone.

\---

The breach didn’t turn into a full attack. No wolves were hurt. No territory was damaged.

But the message was clear.

We can get in.

It shook the pack more than they admitted. I could see it in the way some of them walked—heads lower, eyes darting. Even the strongest warriors were rattled.

And that made people look at me differently.

I saw it in the side glances.

The subtle tension in every conversation.

The Luna arrives… and the enemy follows.

Perfect timing.

Too perfect.

\---

Later that evening, I found myself in the war room.

It was a long chamber deep beneath the estate, lined with old stone and worn leather maps. Aidan stood at the center, pacing in tight circles while Calder and two other warriors argued about territory coverage.

I slipped in quietly, leaning against the far wall, observing.

Eventually, Aidan’s eyes found mine. He didn’t call me out. He didn’t stop talking.

But a moment later, he said, “That’s enough for tonight. We’ll regroup at dawn.”

The others filed out, murmuring as they went. Calder gave me a long look before disappearing into the hall.

When the door clicked shut, Aidan exhaled and sat on the edge of the war table.

“I should’ve seen this coming.”

“You did,” I said. “You’ve been preparing for weeks.”

“Not well enough.”

I hesitated, then walked over and sat beside him. Close, but not touching.

“You kept them safe,” I said quietly. “You kept me safe.”

He turned his head slowly, studying me. “I meant what I said the night of the wedding. You’re one of us now. Whether this started as real or not.”

I looked down at my hands. “It’s not real.”

But the words didn’t sound convincing.

He reached out, gently taking my hand.

And I didn’t pull away.

The silence between us swelled, heavy and magnetic.

Then he said, “My mother used to say fate doesn’t always ask permission. Sometimes it just grabs you by the throat and says hold on.”

I blinked. “What happened to her?”

“She died,” he said softly. “When I was a kid. No one talks about it, but I think… I think she was betrayed.”

I looked at him sharply. “By who?”

Aidan’s gaze hardened. “Someone inside the pack. Someone close.”

A chill crept through me.

Because the more I listened, the more familiar it sounded.

And suddenly I realized—my family wasn’t the only one who had been torn apart from the inside.

\---

I left the war room a little while later, my mind buzzing with too many thoughts.

I needed clarity.

I needed a lead.

So I returned to the library—the place where I’d found the journal.

I hadn’t had time to go through the rest of the shelves yet, but something about that panel had felt off, like it wasn’t the only thing hidden there.

I ran my fingers along the seam of the wood.

And then—click.

A small compartment popped open near the baseboard.

Inside was a folded piece of parchment. Yellowed. Fragile.

I opened it carefully.

It was a list.

Twelve names.

Some were familiar—pack members, warriors, advisors.

One of them was Jackson.

And next to each name... a symbol.

The same one carved on my door.

The Bloodfang death mark.

I stared at it, heart thudding.

Why was Jackson’s name on a Bloodfang list?

Why was mine scribbled under

neath in a different, messier handwriting?

Not part of the original.

Added later.

Someone had rewritten the list.

And at the very bottom, next to my name, were two words:

"Kill last."