Hidden Path

Hidden Path
\-Matilda-

I woke up early, mind already racing, sleep barely touching me since Blake's arrest. False accusations hung over him like a storm, and I couldn't sit idle.

I needed to dig deep, find the truth, clear his name. Every morning now started the same, scribbling notes, chasing leads, calling contacts quiet.

Yesterday's dream walk with Harrison planted doubt in him, but it wasn't enough. Evidence was fake, I knew it, but proving it meant work, real work.

I decided to focus full time, no distractions. I headed to SCN first, steps firm through the doors, straight to Director Quinn's office.

I knocked quick, entered when he called. "Matilda, what's this about?" he asked, eyes curious.

"I need two weeks sick leave," I said calm, handing over the form already filled.

He scanned it fast, brow raising. "Sick? You look fine." Kept my voice steady.

"Personal health matter. Doctor's note attached." He paused, then nodded.

"Approved. Rest well." Relief hit soft, now I had time, full focus on Blake. Left his office quick, avoiding eyes, especially Sofia's sly glance from her desk.

She knew something, always did, but I'd deal with her later. Met Jaxon outside, his car pulled up prompt.

"Any news?" I asked, sliding in beside him. He started driving slow.

"Harrison's rattled after your dream visit, which you informed me about earlier. He's double-checking the video now."

"Good... We need more. Who sent it? Where's the original?" Jaxon nodded, eyes on the road.

"I tapped my contacts in tech. Video's edited clean, but metadata shows a drop from an anonymous server.

Tracing it now." We planned tight, split tasks, me on Harrison and SCN leaks, him on digital trails and pack whispers.

"Meet tonight, compare notes," he said, dropping me at a cafe. I spent hours there, laptop open, cross-referencing rogue attacks with Blake's timeline.

Alibis solid, but someone twisted facts perfect. Called old sources I got from aunty Helen, hunters who owed favors, begging for tips on Hartman's moves.

One whispered about rogues moving bold, Hartman's hand clear. Connected dots slow, Hartman framed Blake to weaken his pack, force alliance through Sofia.

Anger burned, but focus stayed sharp. Afternoon came, i headed to the station, needing to push Harrison harder.

I found him at his desk, face tired, eyes dodging mine. "Inspector," I said firm, standing close.

He looked up, surprise flashing. "Ms. Lawson, not a good time." Ignored that.

"You know Blake's not the culprit you're looking for. Why don't you do your work better and get the real person?" My voice cut sharp, stare unyielding.

His jaw tightened, doubt clear from the dream. "Evidence says otherwise," he muttered, but weaker now.

I turned away quick, leaving him stunned, my words echoing. I walked out strong, my heart pounding purpose.

Evening fell, as I met Jaxon again in a quiet park, benches empty.

"Server traces to a shell company, links to Hartman's businesses," he said low, showing printouts.

My eyes widened. "Proof he's behind the video." Jaxon nodded.

"Need more to break it open." Planned deeper, infiltrate Hartman's circle, find the editor, expose the fake.

"I'll go to him direct," I said sudden.

Jaxon frowned. "Risky." But necessary. Hartman held keys, and confrontation might crack him.

After some minutes, I drove to alpha Hartman's mansion alone, gates looming high, guards eyeing me suspicious.

Announced myself bold, unexpected visit. Gates opened slow, car rolling in. Stepped out calm, walked to the grand door, knocked firm.

It opened, Hartman standing tall, smirk playing his lips. "To what do I owe this visit?" he asked, voice smooth but edged.

I composed my face, gaze steady. "Let's say, I'm here to talk about business!" I replied calmly.

★★★

\-Blake-

I drifted into sleep in the cell, body heavy from the day, mind refusing to quiet. Then the scene shifted sudden, I stood on a battlefield, hands tied tight behind my back, chaos roaring around me.

I see blood, I multitude of men clashed fierce, swords flashing, some shifting mid-fight into werewolves, fur ripping through skin, howls piercing loud.

What exactly could be happening? Has war started among packs and why am I here like a captive?

I tried to shout orders, warn my pack, but no sound came, my throat locked silent. Panic rose sharp.

Why am I so powerless? My eyes scanned desperate, searching for escape, for control. Then, suddenly I saw some men circled me slow, closing in tight, their faces twisted mocking.

I was surrounded completely, no way out. “Look at him, like a puppy. Are you not the almighty Alpha Blake?” the leader sneered, scar cutting deep across his face, voice dripping scorn.

I don't know this men and I have never seen any of these faces before.

His words stung, but I held gaze steady, refusing to flinch. Another laughed loud. “He dares not speak, and even if he wants to, we’ve taken away his voice and power!”

What have they done to me? Is that the reason why I can't speak or even move my body?

They all burst into mischievous laughter, echoing cruel. Rage boiled inside, but body stayed frozen, useless.

Then rough hands dragged a lady forward from nowhere, sack covering her face, struggles muffled.

Heart clenched, who? The leader pulled a big sword, gleaming cold.

“You will feel what pain is today, a pain that will break you forever, and you won’t be able to speak or do anything!” he said, voice dark promise.

He yanked the sack off quick. It's Matilda. Her eyes met mine, wide with fear but brave. No. Tried to scream, lunge forward, but chains held firm, voice still gone.

Sword raised high, leader’s grin widening. As it swung down toward her neck, I jolted awake with a loud shout, body thrashing against the cell floor.

Officers rushed over fast, peering through bars. “You must really be enjoying this place, having a dream!” one mocked, chuckling as they walked away slow.

I sat up gasping, sweat cooling fast, my both hands trembling bad. Dream or warning? Matilda in danger, this is real danger.

“Matilda is in trouble!” I whispered to myself.