Chapter Sixty-Four: Carol's POV
Those words hit me like a punch to the chest.
Hearing him casually brag about Simon being hit by a silver bullet, boasting about the shipment that nearly killed him... my vision began to turn red.
I needed to summon every ounce of training Marcus had drilled into me to resist the urge to rush out and smash Edmund's smug face.
Maurice's hand pressed on my arm, gripping tightly but not painfully.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to keep listening. Intelligence was worth more than revenge. At least for now.
The young man whistled, clearly impressed.
"So these aren't ordinary silver bullets. What makes them so effective?"
"Proprietary formula," Edmund said with obvious satisfaction.
"An alloy of silver and other metals that delays wound healing, prevents the body from naturally expelling the bullet. Even an Alpha's healing ability can't resist it. It's not just about the wound—the poison lingers in the bloodstream, slowly spreading through the lymphatic system, bit by bit shutting down their supernatural immune response."
My stomach churned.
No wonder Simon was still unconscious.
No wonder even with his Alpha healing and the pack's best medical resources, he was still lying in that bed unable to wake up.
The bullet hadn't just injured him—it was slowly poisoning him from the inside, something his body couldn't recognize or expel.
"Perfect," the young man said, nodding with satisfaction as he closed the crate.
"When Valodin Pack's internal power struggles leave them weak and chaotic, Andreas Pack will be ready to move in. We'll seize their Seattle territory, drive out every last Valodin wolf, make them feel what it's like to lose everything the way they made us lose our holdings seven years ago. Payback's a bitch, and we're going to deliver it with interest."
Andreas Pack. The name clicked into place like a key, connecting all the scattered intelligence I'd been gathering.
Edmund raised a hand, his expression turning serious. "Don't underestimate the girl running things now. Carol Valodin may look like an ordinary human, but she's different. I've seen her in action. She has abilities that don't make sense for someone without wolf heritage. She can compel people to tell the truth. Don't be fooled by her age and human identity—she's far more dangerous than she appears."
The young man scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "A human girl? You're saying Valodin Pack is being run by a human? That just shows how far they've fallen. When we make our move, she won't even be a speed bump."
"Suit yourself," Edmund shrugged. "I've warned you. What you do with that information is your business."
The young man's eyes narrowed.
He stepped closer to Edmund, lowering his voice, clearly not wanting others to overhear their next conversation.
Which of course was exactly what I most needed to hear.
Edmund's smile never changed, but something shifted in his eyes, something cold and calculating that made my back tighten even from this distance.
"Speaking of warnings... I have to ask. Blackwood Pack is providing all this for free? High-grade silver ammunition, tactical support, intelligence on Valodin movements, and you're not asking for a cut of the territory or a percentage of their assets? That doesn't match anything I know about how your family operates. So Edmund, what's your real angle here? What does Blackwood Pack actually want out of this arrangement?"
Edmund's smile never changed, but something shifted in his eyes, something cold and calculating that made my back tighten even from this distance.
"You just do your job, Theodore. Focus on destabilizing Valodin Pack, creating chaos within their ranks, making Simon Volkov look weak and ineffective to his own wolves. The rest isn't your concern. You'll get your revenge, your territory, your chance to spit on Valodin's grave. Isn't that enough?"
Theodore—so that was his name.
They shook hands, movements practiced, then Theodore left with his people through the main loading dock, as bold leaving as he'd been arriving.
Edmund watched him go, then turned and walked toward the warehouse interior.
Maurice's hand tightened on my arm. Time to leave.
We needed to be gone before he finished whatever he was planning, before someone ran a more thorough search.
Luck runs out.
We were halfway out when Edmund's footsteps reversed direction.
Maurice didn't hesitate.
One second I was standing, the next his arm was around my waist and the world lurched as he launched us upward with impossible strength.
We landed in a tree branch.
The tree shouldn't have been able to support both our weight, but he balanced there with incredible grace, one hand still locked around my waist, the other bracing against the trunk.
Before I could catch my breath, he pulled me closer against his chest, while adjusting his weight to make us both as small and still as possible.
Edmund walked directly beneath us. His flashlight swept across where we'd been standing moments before.
He stopped there. Every muscle in my body locked with fear of discovery.
Not until he completely left did Maurice begin to move.
He adjusted his weight, and I felt his arm around my waist loosen, signaling me to go down first.
We descended in stages, Maurice controlling every inch, muscles without any unnecessary tremor.
We left the warehouse in silence, deliberately taking a long detour in case anyone reviewed the surveillance.
Maurice led the way, and I followed him, until we'd put several blocks between us and Edmund's operation before I spoke.
"Why were you here? Were you following me? Or did you use some method to find me?"
Maurice stopped, turning to face me.
The streetlight overhead was broken, his face hidden in darkness, but those eyes were still gleaming, quietly watching me.
"There have been several disappearances in this area recently," he said, his tone carrying that clinical detachment he used discussing experimental data.
"Young people, mostly students, just vanished without any clues. The last time anyone saw them was a few streets from here. I suspect these warehouses aren't just arms transfer stations, they might also be used for human trafficking."
My stomach turned. Tonight's discoveries were already sickening enough, and this added another layer.
"You're saying Edmund isn't just smuggling weapons," I said, "he's also trafficking people?"
"I'm saying the evidence points to someone doing this," Maurice corrected, always precise with his wording.
"Whether it's Edmund himself or someone else using these facilities, I haven't confirmed. But yes, Carol, that's one of the directions I'm investigating. That's when I noticed you trying to sneak into that area, like you were auditioning for a spy film."
I wanted to argue with him, defend my infiltration techniques, but I was too tired and my mind was too full.
"The young man with Edmund," I changed the subject. "You recognized him."
"Theodore Andreas," Maurice said. "He's young, ambitious, and holds a grudge against Valodin Pack because Valodin drove Andreas Pack out of Seattle several years ago. If he's appearing in Seattle now, working directly with Edmund..."
He trailed off, letting me fill in the blank.
"So Andreas Pack isn't just planning to intervene later," I picked up his thread. "They're already making their move, trying to destroy us from within first. Those weapons, the intelligence Edmund mentioned, the timing of Simon's attack... it's all coordinated."
"It appears so." Maurice started walking again, and I fell into step, my mind racing with everything I needed to report and everyone I needed to warn.
We walked in silence for several more minutes before he spoke again, "When are you going back to school?"
I was caught off guard. After everything that just happened, this question seemed too ordinary.
"What?"
"Back to school," he corrected, still not looking at me.
"I've already arranged your leave, filed the family emergency paperwork. But it's been weeks now, Carol. If it drags on much longer, people will start asking questions, making assumptions. Your academic standing could be affected."
Right. Even in the middle of a supernatural gang war, attendance records still mattered.
"When Simon wakes up," I answered, the response automatic.
"As soon as he's conscious and stable, I'll go back. Not before. The pack needs someone here, someone who can make decisions and coordinate the response to all this."
Maurice turned to look at me.
"Very well," he said softly. "But don't wait too long. The academic world may seem insignificant compared to pack politics and territorial wars, but your education matters, Carol. Don't sacrifice your future for a present you might not even be able to control."
We'd reached the edge of Valodin territory.
That invisible boundary line lay before us, this side pack territory, that side the rest of Seattle.
Maurice stopped at the line, as he always did, never crossing even without visible markers.
"I should leave you here," he said, already stepping back into the shadows. "Get some rest. You'll need it for whatever comes next."
I wanted to thank him, wanted to ask why he kept helping me, wanted to understand what happened back in that warehouse when he pressed his fangs against my throat then pulled away.
But the words stuck in my throat, tangled with too many emotions I didn't have time to examine, so I just nodded and turned toward the manor.
The moment I stepped through the front door, Samuel appeared from the sitting room, moving faster than I'd ever seen the elderly Beta move, his face transformed with undisguised joy.
"Miss Carol," Samuel said, his voice thick with emotion. "Simon's awake. He's awake."