⊰ 122 ⊱ The Silent Order

⊰ 122 ⊱ The Silent Order
| Malachi |

The evening’s program begins with the usual pageantry—introductions of the remaining contenders, speeches about tradition and the sacred duty of leadership. I play my part, standing when announced, nodding graciously at the polite applause. But my attention is elsewhere, noting the subtle dynamics at play.

The way certain committee members exchange glances when my name is announced. The knowing smirks on Tarlac and Julia’s faces. The air of inevitability that seems to surround their table like suffocating perfume.

Halfway through an endless succession of speeches about “unity” and “the bright future of our people,” I lean over to Penelope. “I need to step out,” I murmur against her ear. “I need to find Jackson.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and she shifts Elio to a more secure position. “Be careful.”

I catch Jax’s attention with a subtle gesture. When he approaches, I keep my voice low. “Stay with them. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

He nods once, without hesitation. Despite what has happened between us, I trust him to protect what matters most.

I make my way toward the exit, using the cover of a particularly long-winded speech about “the sacred bonds of pack loyalty.”

I reach the palace gardens shortly after—a moonlit maze of sculpted hedges and marble statues, each representing some aspect of werewolf heritage and power. Fountains provide gentle background noise that should mask our conversation from any possible surveillance. Jackson is already there, standing beside a statue of the first Continental King with his back to the path.

“You’re here,” he says without turning around. “Good. We don’t have much time.”

“Start talking,” I reply, moving closer. “What’s going on? Why are you here?” 

Jackson finally faces me, and for a moment, I’m struck by the change in his demeanor. Gone is the polished politician from the ballroom. In his place stands a wolf who carries the weight of knowing something dangerous.

“Rook let me go about two weeks ago, under the condition that I’d gather information upon my formal withdrawal from the race,” he says. “Now, I’m here to relay what I gathered to you.”

My brows furrow slightly. “So? What did you find?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, eyeing me for a moment. “The Silent Order,” he says simply.

The name means nothing to me, but something about the way he says it sends a chill down my spine.

“Never heard of them,” I say.

Jackson laughs bitterly. “I hadn’t either. Until I spent a week as their involuntary guest.”

“Involuntary guest?” I ask, confused.

“I was released by Rook—only to end up in their hands.” His eyes are hard as flint. “After I withdrew from the race, the committee had questions. Rook warned me they might. I didn’t think it would come to an initiation.”

My blood runs cold. “You’ve been infiltrating them?”

“For the past few days, yes. Playing the role of a broken Alpha looking for revenge against you and Rook.” His expression darkens. “Amazing what people will tell you when they think you share their hatreds.”

“What did you learn?”

Jackson pulls a small device from his pocket—something that looks like a cufflink but I quickly recognize as a recording device. “Three of the five committee members are Order operatives. The other two are being blackmailed into cooperation. The current Continental King?” He shakes his head grimly. “Puppet on a string, just as Rook suspected. Has been for years.”

“And Tarlac?” I ask, though I already suspect the answer.

“Their chosen successor, of course. He’s the prince, groomed since childhood.” His voice drops to barely above a whisper. “They’ve been systematically eliminating or controlling potential threats to their agenda for decades. Any Alpha strong enough to challenge their control.”

The pieces fall into place with sickening clarity. “This gathering,” I say slowly. “It’s not just about the selection process.”

“It’s reconnaissance,” Jackson confirms. “They’re cataloging final targets, confirming family structures, identifying security weaknesses. The real elimination event happens tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“It’ll be the coronation ceremony. They’ve planned it as the grand finale—eliminate all remaining threats in one coordinated strike, then crown Tarlac as the ‘sole surviving candidate’ amid the chaos.” His jaw tightens. “They made the mistake of gloating about their… efficiency. Everything’s on this recording—the planned assassinations, the cover stories, even the cleanup operations.”

It’s a trap… This is all one big trap.

I think of Penelope back in that ballroom, holding our son, completely unaware that we’re sitting on our graves. “How many targets?”

“Every Alpha with a legitimate claim to challenge their authority. You, obviously. Three others, plus their families.” His expression hardens. “They plan to make it look like pack warfare, old rivalries boiling over during the ceremony.”

“This is enough evidence to bring them down,” I say, staring at the device. “But we need to get Rook involved. This is bigger than we can handle alone.”

Jackson hesitates, then nods reluctantly. The look on his face makes me pause.

“You alright?” I ask.

A bitter smirk crosses his face. “You know what I miss? Being blissfully ignorant.” His voice cracks slightly. “Now my daughter and mate are in danger, and I might not live long enough to protect them.”

“Hey,” I say firmly, meeting his eyes. “We’re going to take this thing down. Both of us are going to make it home to our families. I promise you that.”

Jackson nods, but I can see the fear he’s trying to hide. He regrets this, all of this. Had he never offered to unite our packs, had he never agreed to help me try to get Penelope back, he wouldn’t be in this mess.

A part of me can’t help but feel responsible.

Now isn’t the time for regret. We need to move. 

I turn back toward the ballroom, my mind already racing with what needs to happen next. Inside, through the tall windows, I can see Penelope still at our table, Jax positioned protectively nearby.

When I reach them, I stand next to Jax, shoulder to shoulder, my voice barely a whisper.

“Get Rook on the phone. We’re going to need his help.”