Chapte 103 Bait in the Marsh
Wynter's POV
The safehouse Jax had secured for us was exactly what I'd expected from someone who'd spent years surviving in the shadows—a converted warehouse on the outskirts of neutral territory, far enough from Pack lands to avoid immediate detection but close enough to Rogue settlements that help could arrive quickly if needed.
Three days had passed since we'd left the Academy, three days of settling into a rhythm that felt both strange and oddly liberating. No classes to attend, no administrators watching my every move, no need to constantly calculate which version of myself was safe to show. Just me, Jax, and the handful of Rogues who rotated through on guard duty, their presence a constant reminder that even in sanctuary, we weren't truly safe.
I was helping Jax organize supply inventory when Fang burst through the door, his scarred face tight with urgency that made my wolf instantly alert.
"Boss," he said, breathing hard. "We've got a problem. Three more kids went missing last night from the eastern settlement. Same pattern—vanished between moonrise and midnight, no scent trails, no witnesses except one woman who swears she saw someone in dark clothes leading them toward the lowlands."
The pencil in my hand snapped, the sharp crack startling in the sudden silence. Through the Bond, I felt Chase's concern spike, picking up on my emotional response even though he was still hours away.
Jax's expression went cold. "How long ago?"
"Report came in forty minutes ago. I came straight here."
"The lowlands," I said, mind racing through the maps Jax had shown me. "That's the marsh area, near the old mining operation?"
"Yeah." Jax was already moving, grabbing weapons from a hidden cache. "Isolated, hard terrain, perfect for an ambush." He paused, looking at me. "Sis, you should stay here. This could be—"
"A trap," I finished, already reaching for my jacket. "I know. I'm coming anyway."
"Wynter—"
"Those are children, Jax. Someone's using them as bait, but that doesn't make them less real or less in danger. If this is Bloodrock's operation, they're not going to stop with three more kids. They'll keep taking them until someone forces them to stop."
Through the Bond, I felt Chase's alarm intensify, felt him pushing his wolf harder to close the distance. Wynter, wait for me. Don't go rushing in alone.
We don't have time, I sent back, already following Jax. Those children might not have hours. I'll be careful, I promise.
His frustration bled through, but underneath it, I felt his understanding. I'm less than an hour away. Please, just wait—
I love you, I interrupted, feeling his surprise and the warmth that followed. But I can't wait. Not for this.
---
The lowlands were a sprawling expanse of marsh and sucking mud, stagnant pools reeking of decay. The afternoon sun hung low, painting everything in shades of amber and rust, but the beauty was lost in the tension that pressed on my senses.
We moved carefully, Jax taking point with Fang ranging wide to our left while I kept to the middle, my wolf's senses straining for any hint of the children or their captors. The silence was broken only by the wet squelch of our boots and the occasional cry of a marsh bird overhead.
"There," Fang said quietly, pointing to a slight rise where the ground looked firmer. "Fresh tracks. Multiple people, moving fast."
We approached cautiously, and my stomach dropped as I recognized the small footprints—children's shoes, three sets, all heading in the same direction. Beside them, deeper impressions of an adult's boots, the stride long and purposeful.
"They came through here within the last hour," Jax said, crouching to examine the tracks. His neck still showed faint marks from months of magical suppression. "Moving northeast toward the old mining pit."
"It's definitely a trap," Fang said, his face grim. "No one takes hostages to the pit unless they're planning something nasty. The terrain there is treacherous—sinkholes, unstable ground, places where a body could disappear and never be found."
"Then we spring it," Jax said, checking his weapons. "Carefully. We know they're expecting us, so we don't give them what they want. Sis, you stay back and—"
The attack came without warning.
A figure in black burst from the reeds to our right, moving with inhuman speed toward Jax. I barely had time to shout before they collided, both sprawling into the mud.
Jax rolled with the momentum, coming up in a crouch with a knife already in hand, but the attacker was faster—a kick to his wrist sent the blade flying, and then they were grappling, a blur of violent motion.
I lunged forward to help, but Fang's hand caught my arm. "Wait. Watch for others. This could be a distraction."
I scanned the marsh, wolf senses straining for any sound of additional attackers.
The masked figure and Jax broke apart, both breathing hard. The attacker's movements were fluid, controlled—this was no random Rogue. This was someone who knew exactly what they were doing.
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" The voice was male, muffled by the mask but edged with cruel amusement. "Always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, making trouble for your betters."
"My betters?" Jax's voice was pure ice. "You're nothing but a coward who kidnaps children. That doesn't make you better than anyone."
They clashed again, and this time I saw Jax's claws extend, raking across the attacker's arm with enough force to shred fabric. The man hissed in pain, stumbling back, and his sleeve fell away to reveal—
A birthmark. Crescent-shaped, dark red against pale skin, exactly where the little girl had described.
"You," Jax breathed, his rage making my wolf whimper with sympathetic fury. "You're the one who took Cassius. You're the one who's been kidnapping our children."
The masked man laughed, low and mocking. "Took you long enough to figure it out. You Rogues were never known for your intelligence. Just your ability to breed like rats and die in droves."
"Why?" I demanded, stepping forward despite Fang's grip. "Why are you doing this? What could you possibly gain from terrorizing children?"
The masked man's attention swung toward me, and even through the fabric, I felt the cold calculation in his gaze. "Well, well. The cursed Beta herself. Bloodrock's been very interested in you, Miss Vaughn. Daughter of a murdered diplomat, mate to Silvermoon's heir, defender of the lowest dregs of Pack society." He paused, and I heard the smile in his voice. "Tell me, does it bother you? Knowing your father died because he was too idealistic? That all his pretty speeches about peace meant nothing against cold steel and colder ambition?"
Through the Bond, I felt Chase's fury spike so sharply it made me gasp, felt him pushing his wolf to the breaking point to reach me.
"My father," I said, my voice shaking but steady, "died because cowards like you murdered him rather than face him in honest negotiation. And his death won't be meaningless—because I'm going to expose every single one of you."
"Brave words." The man shifted his weight, and I saw Jax tense, recognizing the stance of someone about to strike. "But bravery doesn't mean much when you're dead. As for why we're taking the children—" He turned back to Jax, his voice dropping. "Why do you think? Because they make excellent weapons once you break them. Because using Rogue trash to destabilize the Academy and frame you for it kills two birds with one stone. And because—" his voice hardened, "—you've been causing our Lord entirely too much trouble lately. Time to remind you of your place."
Jax snarled, a sound more wolf than human, and I saw his body begin to shift—bones lengthening, muscles bulging, fur rippling across his skin as his wolf surged forward with a force that made the absence of the collar even more apparent. Without the magical restraints that had held him back for so long, his transformation was faster, more powerful than I'd ever seen.
"Jax, wait—" I started, reaching for him, trying to pull him back from the edge of the fury that was consuming him. "It's a trap, he's trying to—"