Chapter 23: The Strategist
I didn’t sleep after the message came.
“You’re not safe. They know.”
Five words.
Scratched on parchment, slid under my door in the middle of the night.
Someone in the estate was watching.
Someone close.
The wolves were no longer circling—they were inside the walls.
\---
By morning, I’d already prepared for war.
Black jeans. Combat boots. My jacket lined with silver. My blades hidden but reachable.
I wasn’t just the Luna today.
I was the girl in the closet again.
But this time, I wasn’t waiting to die.
\---
“Elder Aster is waiting in the strategy hall,” Aidan said, stepping beside me as I entered the main corridor. “I warned her this was a formal inquiry.”
“How’d she take it?”
“She laughed.”
Of course she did.
Aster Crowe was ancient, feared, and frustratingly untouchable.
A former advisor to Gregory, she held no official title now—but power clung to her like perfume. She had been his shadow during the Silverlake years. If anyone knew the truth about the operation—and the missing children—it was her.
I glanced at Aidan. “You trust her?”
“No.”
That was all I needed.
\---
The strategy hall was dim, lit only by the stained-glass dome above the long marble table.
Aster sat at the head like a queen from a forgotten era. Silver hair braided tight, fingers covered in antique rings, expression unreadable.
Two guards stood behind her.
Her eyes locked onto mine like knives.
“Roxanne,” she said, voice smooth as silk and twice as cold. “So nice of you to finally visit.”
I didn’t sit.
I placed the folder on the table in front of her.
“Avery Rhodes. Age nine. Witness to the Silverlake massacre. Her medical records were signed and sealed by you.”
She didn’t blink. “Correct.”
“You erased her.”
“I protected her.”
My jaw clenched. “By dumping her in a psych ward and letting her rot?”
“She was unstable. Fractured. Do you know what she did to the nurses in her first week?”
I stared at her.
“She screamed about monsters. Attacked anyone who got close. Drew blood with her nails. We didn’t know what she’d become.”
“And me?” I whispered. “What about me?”
She finally smiled.
“You were different.”
“How?”
“You didn’t break. You bent. You watched.”
The blood drained from my face.
“You knew I survived.”
“Of course,” she said. “I was the one who pulled you from the fire.”
I staggered back half a step.
Aidan caught my arm.
“You knew,” I said. “You let Jackson take me in. You fed him the story. You built me.”
“You were the best weapon we ever forged,” she said, rising to her feet. “And you’re still serving your purpose.”
I pulled my blade.
Her guards moved.
So did Aidan.
We were seconds from blood.
But Aster just raised a hand.
“Calm, children,” she said. “You want answers, not a civil war.”
“You’re working with Gregory,” I said. “Aren’t you?”
She smiled.
“No,” she said. “I’m working against him. Quietly. Strategically. Because unlike you, Roxanne, I understand how power works.”
\---
Aidan stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “Then prove it. Help us stop him.”
Aster’s eyes glinted. “You’re not ready.”
“Then prepare us,” I snapped.
She studied me. Really studied me.
Then turned and walked to a tall shelf built into the wall.
She pulled a small box from the top.
Inside: tapes.
Black. Labeled in white.
“Hollow Blade – Phase Two.”
“You want the truth?” she said. “Then watch this.”
\---
The projector flickered.
Static buzzed.
And then—
A younger Gregory Thorne stood in a dark chamber, surrounded by wolves in human form.
Ryder was there.
Jackson too.
And then—me.
Ten years old.
Strapped to a chair.
Eyes blank.
Mouth gagged.
Gregory stepped forward in the tape, addressing someone behind the camera.
“She’s the last one. We’ve lost control of the others. But this one… she’s got it. The balance. The rage. The silence. She watches. Learns. If we shape her, she could be the bridge between our kind and theirs.”
A hand reached toward my face in the tape.
I flinched even now.
“We’ll erase the memory. Implant the fear. Build the trauma. Make her hunt.”
The tape cut to black.
\---
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
I dropped into the nearest chair.
I was never a survivor.
I was a project.
\---
Elena’s voice came through the intercom. “We have a problem.”
I shot to my feet. “What kind of problem?”
“Avery’s safehouse. It’s been torched. She's gone.”
“What?!”
“I checked the cameras. The footage was wiped. But... someone used estate clearance codes.”
The room spun.
Aster’s face didn’t change.
But something cold passed behind her eyes.
I turned to Aidan.
“We’ve been betrayed.”
\---
That night, I walked the halls alone.
Aidan followed, but from a distance.
He wasn’t pushing anymore.
He was protecting.
We didn’t speak.
Not until I reached the eastern tower.
The place where Gregory held his private council.
A stone door stood at the end.
Sealed. Marked with a wolf’s claw etched in gold.
“Behind that door,” I said, “are the answers I need.”
Aidan stepped beside me.
“You open it… there’s no going back.”
“I don’t want back,” I said. “I want through.”
And I pressed my hand to the seal.
\---
Inside: a study.
Old. Quiet. Filled with dusty scrolls and relics from a hundred wars.
But in the center—a map.
Marked with red dots.
Every city touched by Hollow Blade.
Every family that vanished.
And right at the edge…
New Orleans.
Marked twice.
And beside it, in Gregory’s own hand:
“Target: Luna.”