Chapter 46 Declan's Discovery (Declan POV)
The lock on Edmund's hotel room door yields to Callum's tools in under thirty seconds, which should probably concern me.
"Where did you learn to pick locks?" I whisper, scanning the hallway for witnesses.
"YouTube. Owen taught me during the summer break." Callum pushes the door open, gesturing me inside. "You'd be amazed what you can learn online when you're supposed to be studying for A-Levels."
"Remind me never to let you get bored."
"Too late. I've already mastered three types of bypass techniques and can hot-wire most cars manufactured before 2020." He closes the door softly behind us. "Hotel security is embarrassingly easy compared to actual challenges."
Room 237 looks exactly like what it is, a temporary base of operations for someone planning mass murder. Edmund's laptop sits closed on the desk, surrounded by papers, maps, and equipment catalogs. The bed is made with military precision. No personal items visible except a photograph face-down on the nightstand.
"He's not here," I confirm, scenting the air. "Left maybe three hours ago. Could be back any time."
"Then we work fast." Callum pulls on latex gloves…because of course he brought latex gloves…and hands me a pair. "You take the desk. I'll check the closet and luggage. Don't move anything that will show we were here."
I slip on the gloves, approaching the desk like it might explode. Which, given Edmund's profession, isn't entirely paranoid.
The first document makes my stomach drop.
OPERATION SILVER MOON - MASTER PLAN
Beneath it, detailed schematics of Blackthorn Academy's underground facility. But not just the Subterranean Pitch where the tournament will take place. This goes deeper, showing layers I didn't know existed.
"Callum. You need to see this."
He's beside me instantly, reading over my shoulder. "What am I looking at?"
"Ancient werewolf prison. Pre-dates the academy by centuries." I trace the layout with my finger. "Look, these chambers here were designed to contain transformed werewolves. Silver-lined walls, UV light systems, ventilation that could pump in wolfsbane gas."
"The academy was built on top of a supernatural prison?"
"Apparently. And Edmund knows about it. Has detailed maps showing every chamber, every access point, every weakness in the original structure." I flip to the next page. "And here's his modifications."
The schematics show modern additions overlaid on ancient infrastructure. Silver reinforcements along every corridor. UV cannons positioned at strategic chokepoints. Modified ventilation systems that connect to the original prison's gas delivery.
"He's not just planning an attack," Callum breathes. "He's turning the entire facility back into what it was designed to be. A prison. A death trap."
"For fifty werewolves who have no idea they're walking into a structure built specifically to contain and kill us." I keep flipping pages, each one worse than the last. "Look at this. Maintenance tunnels sealed with silver mesh. Emergency exits rigged with UV barriers. Even the original cave systems filled with motion sensors."
"He's thought of everything."
"Not everything. He missed the ventilation shafts near the old chapel foundations. See?" I point to a gap in his coverage. "Natural airflow from the original caves. Too small for adults but children or small wolves could fit."
"Emergency escape route for pups if we need it." Callum photographs the page with his phone. "What else?"
I move to the next section, hunter deployment.
Twenty-three positions marked on the map. Each one labeled with a name and specialty. Snipers on elevated positions overlooking all exits. Tactical coordinators managing UV cannon deployment. Equipment specialists ready with silver gas canisters.
"This is military-grade planning," I say quietly. "Not just hunters with silver bullets. This is a coordinated assault by professionals."
"Who's funding this? Edmund's good but he's not twenty-three-professional-mercenaries wealthy."
"Someone with deep pockets and serious motivation to eliminate British werewolves." I photograph each page methodically. "Someone who wants this done right."
Callum moves to another stack of papers…personnel files on Edmund's hunter network. Each mercenary detailed with background, specializations, confirmed kills.
"Declan." His voice is strange. "Marcus led the operation that killed your father."
I stop photographing, looking up. "What?"
"Edmund's lead coordinator. Marcus. Former SAS, specializes in Alpha elimination." Callum's holding a file with my father's name on it. "October 2023. Tactical strike against Greyfang Pack leadership. Mission successful…Alpha eliminated, pack scattered temporarily."
The paper crinkles as my hands clench involuntarily. "Edmund hired the man who killed my father to help him kill fifty more werewolves."
"Yes. And according to this file, Marcus has eliminated twelve Alphas across Europe in the past decade. He's not just experienced, he's the best at what he does."
I force myself to breathe, to focus. We can deal with rage later. Right now, we need information.
The next stack is photographs.
Pack members from all seven invited groups. Professional surveillance shots taken over months, maybe years. Fergus MacLeod caught mid-shift in the Highland forests. Helena Wright talking to her pack in what looks like a private clearing. Rhys Morgan in human form at a cafe, completely unaware he's being documented.
Each photograph marked with details. Pack affiliation. Rank. Threat assessment. Confirmed abilities.
"He's been watching all of us," I say. "For years. Building profiles, identifying threats, planning how to eliminate each pack member efficiently."
"Priority targets marked in red." Callum points to photos with red stickers. "Alphas, Betas, senior pack members. People he needs to eliminate first to break pack cohesion."
I flip through the stack, finding familiar faces. Owen. Liam. Kieran. Each one marked with threat levels and tactical notes.
Then I find mine.
DECLAN HARTLEY - GREYFANG ALPHA
Priority Target Level: CRITICAL
Threat Assessment: High combat capability, strong pack loyalty, mate-bonded to Silvermane heir
Elimination Strategy: Silver rounds to center mass, UV backup, execute before he can coordinate pack response
"He's planning to kill me first," I say flatly. "Before the tournament even starts. Eliminate the Alpha so the pack is leaderless and disorganized."
"Standard tactic. Cut off the head." Callum keeps flipping through photos. "There must be a hundred people documented here. Edmund's been surveilling the entire supernatural community in Yorkshire."
I return to the desk, finding more files. Tournament logistics. Facility access schedules. Guard rotation patterns for Blackthorn's security.
And then I find it.
A folder labeled simply BAIT.
Inside are photographs of Vivienne.
Dozens of them.
Vivienne arriving at Blackthorn for her first day. Vivienne in classes. Vivienne training with the pack. Vivienne and me in the library, in the dining hall, walking across campus. Every moment documented, tracked, analyzed.
Each photo annotated with dates, times, observations about her behavior, her abilities, her relationships.
And stamped across the folder in red: PRIMARY BAIT - ASSET ALPHA.
"Callum." I can barely get the words out. "Callum, look at this."
He comes to my side, reading over my shoulder. We go through the file together, page by page, photograph by photograph.
It's all there. Edmund's entire plan, laid out with clinical precision.
OPERATION PARAMETERS:
Objective: Eliminate seven major werewolf packs in single coordinated strike
Method: Orchestrate tournament bringing all packs to contained facility
Bait: Place daughter at tournament center to ensure maximum pack investment
Timeline: December 21, Silver Moon (17-year cycle alignment)
Beneath it, a detailed psychological profile of Vivienne that makes my skin crawl.
Subject has been conditioned for seventeen years to trust father's judgment. Suppression spells ensure compliance until activation trigger (mate bond). Upon awakening, will seek normal teenage life and peer integration. Enrollment at Blackthorn Academy provides controlled environment for supernatural contact.
Projection: Subject will bond with local werewolf, triggering suppression failure and full awakening. Her presence as newly-transformed Silvermane will attract attention from all major packs. They will compete for alliance, protection, or elimination of Silvermane heir.
Tournament invitation timing ensures all packs invested in outcomes affecting Subject. Her presence at tournament guarantees maximum pack member attendance. No Alpha will skip event where Silvermane heir is present.
In event of Subject non-attendance: Abort primary plan, execute contingency targeting Subject separately.
"He used her." The words taste like poison. "From the beginning. Edmund enrolled Vivienne at Blackthorn specifically to trigger her awakening. Specifically to make her bait for this trap."
"He knew the mate bond would break the suppression," Callum says, his voice hollow. "Knew she'd transform. Knew every pack would become invested in the Silvermane heir who appeared after a century of extinction."
"He used his own daughter as bait to lure fifty werewolves to their deaths." I'm shaking now, fury and horror mixing. "Seventeen years of suppression wasn't protection. It was preparation. He kept her human just long enough to place her exactly where he wanted, then let nature do the rest."
Callum turns the page to a timeline.
September 1: Subject enrolled at Blackthorn Academy
September 15: First supernatural contact documented
October 2: Mate bond formation confirmed (Declan Hartley, Greyfang Alpha)
October 10: Suppression failure initiated
October 28: First transformation documented
November 15: Subject fully integrated with Greyfang Pack
"He's been tracking every stage of her awakening," Callum says. "Documented when you met, when the bond formed, when she transformed. All according to his projection."
"The projection that ends with her dead in three weeks." I flip to the last page—final operation details.
Edmund's handwritten notes fill the margins.
Vivienne marked as PRIMARY BAIT to ensure she enters facility. Once inside, PRIORITY ONE target. Must eliminate before she can access full Silvermane abilities. Cannot risk her surviving long enough to unite packs.
Silver rounds to head, multiple shooters, no hesitation. Cannot allow fatherly sentiment to compromise mission objectives. She is not my daughter during operation. She is Threat Alpha, same as any other supernatural target.
Beneath it, in smaller script:
If I hesitate, everyone dies. Including her. Better clean execution than prolonged death from silver gas. This is mercy.
"Mercy," I repeat. "He's calling murdering his own daughter mercy."
"He's calling murdering fifty people mercy because the alternative is watching them suffer from silver gas first." Callum's face is pale. "Declan, this isn't just a hunter with a grudge. This is systematic genocide planned by someone who's rationalized every atrocity as protection."
I keep looking through the folder, finding more photographs. Vivienne laughing with Sophie. Vivienne training in wolf form. Vivienne and me in the moment before the library kiss, Edmund's camera catching us from outside.
Every private moment surveilled. Every development documented. Every step of her awakening used as data for his mass murder plans.
The last photograph in the file makes my blood run cold.
Vivienne at three years old, holding a stuffed wolf, crying while Edmund injects her with silver serum.
The caption reads: First suppression treatment. Subject responded well to conditioning. Seventeen-year timeline begins.
"He photographed himself torturing her," I say, barely recognizing my own voice. "Kept it as documentation. Tracked seventeen years of systematic abuse like it was a scientific experiment."
"Because to him, it was." Callum closes the folder carefully. "Edmund Ashford doesn't see his daughter anymore. He sees a weapon he built and deployed against his enemies. The fact that she was his child just made her better bait."
I stand, moving to the window. The view overlooks campus, probably chosen specifically so Edmund could watch Blackthorn, watch his trap develop in real-time.
"We need copies of everything," I say. "Every document, every photo, every schematic. The other Alphas need to see this."
"They won't believe it's all orchestrated around Vivienne. They'll think we're exaggerating to protect your mate."
"Then we show them proof. Edmund's own planning documents that explicitly state he used Vivienne as bait. That he enrolled her here specifically to trigger this chain of events." I turn back to the desk. "Start photographing. Everything. We have maybe thirty minutes before he returns."
Callum pulls out his phone, snapping rapid photos of each page. I go through the closet, finding more files Callum mentioned earlier.
Equipment inventories. Communication protocols. Extraction plans for hunters after werewolves are eliminated. Payment schedules for mercenaries…numbers that make my eyes water.
"Someone's paying two million pounds for this operation," I call out. "Edmund doesn't have that kind of money."
"Then who does?"
"Someone who wants British werewolves extinct badly enough to fund professional genocide." I photograph the payment ledgers. "Shell companies, offshore accounts, encrypted communications. This goes higher than Edmund."
"One problem at a time. First we survive Edmund. Then we figure out who's bankrolling werewolf extermination across Europe."
Fair point.
I return to the desk, finding one last folder buried beneath Edmund's laptop. This one labeled CONTINGENCIES.
Inside, plans for if the primary operation fails. Backup hunters. Additional equipment caches. Secondary traps positioned throughout Yorkshire.
And at the bottom, a handwritten note:
If Operation Silver Moon fails and Vivienne survives: she becomes new priority target. Cannot allow Silvermane female to live and build pack. Chase to ground, eliminate permanently. No sentiment. No hesitation. She will be powerful enough to restart the bloodline. Cannot permit that.
"He's planned to kill her even if the massacre fails," I say. "Even if we somehow survive, even if we stop his attack…he'll keep hunting her. Forever. Because she's Silvermane and he can't accept that his daughter is what he's spent seventeen years killing."
"Then we make sure he doesn't survive to hunt anyone." Callum finishes photographing the last page. "Done. Everything documented. Let's get out before he comes back."
I look at the photograph on the nightstand, the one Edmund left face-down. Turn it over.
Vivienne as a baby, held by a woman with silver eyes and dark hair. Lyanna. Edmund's murdered mate. The photograph is worn at the edges like someone's handled it repeatedly, looked at it too many times while planning to kill everyone in it.
"He keeps a picture of the people he murdered," I say quietly. "His mate. His daughter. Keeps them close while planning to murder again."
"Guilt doesn't stop him. Just makes him work harder to justify what he's doing." Callum's already at the door, checking the hallway. "Come on. We need to leave."
I take one last look at the room, at the master plan for our genocide, at the evidence of seventeen years of systematic abuse, at the casual way Edmund has catalogued his own daughter's life before planning to end it.
Then I follow Callum out, pulling the door closed carefully behind us. The lock engages automatically.
"Edmund will know someone was here," Callum says as we walk calmly toward the stairs. "We disturbed papers, moved things. He'll suspect."
"Good. Let him suspect. Let him worry that someone knows his plan." I take the stairs two at a time. "Maybe paranoia will make him sloppy."
"Or it'll make him accelerate. Attack sooner when we're less prepared."
"Then we prepare faster."
We exit the hotel through a side entrance, circling around to where we parked Callum's car three blocks away. Only when we're inside with doors locked do either of us breathe normally.
"Emergency pack meeting," I say. "Tonight. Everyone needs to see what we found."
"And Vivienne?"
"Especially Vivienne." I pull out my phone, finding seven unread texts from her. "She needs to know the truth about Edmund's plan. About how she was used. About…"
My phone buzzes with a new text.
Alive. Met Gabriel. Long story. Coming back now.
I stare at the words. "Gabriel? Her dead brother Gabriel?"
Callum reads over my shoulder. "Turns out he's not dead. Of course he's not. Because today wasn't complicated enough."
I type back frantically, getting confirmation that yes, Gabriel is alive, has a pack, and apparently Vivienne has an Alpha meeting tomorrow that she didn't mention.
"So to summarize tonight's discoveries," Callum says as he starts the car, "Edmund is using Vivienne as bait for planned genocide, has professional hunters coordinating the attack, turned the underground facility into a death trap, and has contingency plans to hunt Vivienne forever if the massacre fails. Meanwhile, Vivienne's supposedly-dead brother is alive with his own pack of survivors. Does that cover it?"
"You forgot the part where someone wealthy is funding Edmund's genocide campaign across Europe."
"Right. That too." He pulls into traffic. "You know what? I'm going to need so much therapy after this is over."
"Get in line. I'm going to need therapy for needing therapy."
"That's not how therapy works."
"Nothing about this situation works like it should." I stare at the photos on my phone, page after page of Edmund's master plan. "Callum, how do we tell Vivienne that everything, her enrollment, her awakening, her relationship with me, all of it was orchestrated by her father to use her as bait?"
"Very carefully. With pack support. And probably after she's processed whatever Gabriel told her tonight." He glances over. "One catastrophic revelation at a time. That's the only way to survive this level of concentrated trauma."
He's right. As usual.
My phone buzzes again. Vivienne's on her way back. She'll be at Greyfang Hollow in ten minutes expecting explanations about why I'm freaking out.
And I'll have to tell her that her father didn't just murder her mother and suppress her abilities for seventeen years. He cultivated her like a crop, waiting for exactly the right moment to harvest her life along with fifty others.
That she's not a daughter to Edmund Ashford. She's a weapon he deployed against his enemies. The most effective bait possible because every pack in Britain would be invested in the Silvermane heir who appeared after a century of extinction.
That seventeen years of "protection" was really just preparation for this moment. When Edmund could finally finish what he started in that delivery room, eliminating everyone with Silvermane blood.
"Three weeks," I say as Callum parks at the safe house. "We have three weeks to stop this. To somehow turn Edmund's genocide plan back on him and save fifty werewolves who mostly don't believe they're in danger."
"And to help Vivienne process that her entire life was orchestrated as preparation for her murder." Callum cuts the engine. "Piece of cake. We've handled harder things."
"Name one."
"Okay, we haven't. But there's a first time for everything."
Despite everything, I almost laugh. "Your optimism is concerning."
"My optimism is the only thing keeping me from complete breakdown." He opens the door. "Come on. Let's go figure out how to explain genocide-as-family-planning to your traumatized mate."
"When you put it that way…"
"It sounds horrible? That's because it is horrible. We're dealing with horror, Declan. Might as well be honest about it."
We head inside where the pack is waiting, where Vivienne will arrive soon expecting normal catastrophes.
And I'll have to show her photographs of herself marked as "PRIMARY BAIT" in her father's genocide planning documents.
Evidence of systematic evil carried out with clinical precision by a man who convinced himself that murdering his own daughter constitutes mercy.
But at least now we know what we're fighting. Know the full scope of his plan. Know that this isn't just about territory or revenge or supernatural prejudice.
This is about a father who would rather see his daughter dead than accept what she is. And who's built an entire genocide around making that murder look justified.
Edmund Ashford is going to learn something in three weeks.
You don't use a Silvermane as bait and expect to walk away.
Especially when that Silvermane has a mate willing to burn the world to keep her safe.