Chapter 118 Light Before the Storm pt 2
Gideon
We gathered in the private dining room after I’d had a shower, the steam still clinging to my skin as if it refused to let go of the day’s tension. Long buffet tables lined one wall, chafing dishes gleaming softly beneath the lights. When their lids were lifted, waves of warmth and rich scent spilled into the room—roasted meats, spiced vegetables, fresh bread. Normally, it would’ve made my stomach growl. Tonight, it just felt like background noise to the weight pressing down on all of us.
We moved through the line quietly, each of us loading our plates more out of habit than appetite. Cutlery clinked, chairs scraped softly against the floor. When we finally sat, the low murmur of conversation faded on its own, as if the room sensed what was coming.
Dad didn’t waste time. “First,” he said, folding his hands in front of him, his tone calm but taut, “I’ve heard from Elaine.”
A ripple went around the table—subtle, but unmistakable. Forks paused midair. Someone exhaled sharply. Elaine had been urgently summoned back to her coven a little over a week ago, and the silence since then had been its own kind of warning. None of us had known whether to expect bad news… or worse, no news at all.
“Somehow,” Dad continued, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly, “while she was gone, her sister managed to escape. They’re trying to track her now, but they aren’t having much luck.”
My grip tightened around my fork.
“She recommended we keep the amulets she gave us with us at all times,” he went on. “They should prevent anyone from sneaking in via the concealment spell she showed us.”
A cold prickle crept up my spine. “What does that mean for tomorrow?” I asked.
Dad met my gaze steadily. “We have enough amulets for us and Seren’s guards, as well as the guards managing the flow of traffic at the gates. Everyone will be on high alert.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And on that note, patrols are confirmed, and the additional royal guards arrived this morning as support. They’re in the barracks now.” His eyes shifted to Duncan. “Your people have doubled up, which we appreciate. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Duncan said immediately. “We appreciate the extra hands.” He glanced down the table. “Lucian, Tristan—how does tomorrow look?”
Lucian set his fork down with deliberate care. “Tristan, Blake, and I will be with Seren all day. One of us will have eyes on her at all times—at a minimum. Patrols have been assigned, and everyone received their posts this morning. We should be all set.”
Duncan nodded, then added, “We’ve already had a couple of packs arrive. They’re settled into the guest quarters. We’re expecting the majority to arrive tomorrow, before the ceremony.”
Dad leaned back slightly, then pushed his plate away untouched. “I’ll be speaking with all the alphas over the next day and a half. We need to solidify our alliances before we move against the network.” His voice hardened. “We also need to set up the tournament—which is a perfect excuse to touch base with everyone while they’re here.”
Then his gaze slid down the table and stopped.
“Tristan.”
Tristan straightened immediately, placing his fork down as he finished chewing. “Yes, King Cian?”
“How many in the Phantom network are you still in regular contact with?”
“Most of them, my king,” Tristan replied without hesitation. “They’ve been sharing intel as they receive it. I’ve been passing everything along to Alpha Duncan.”
Duncan inclined his head in confirmation.
“We have several locations where captives are being held,” Dad said. “Do you think the Phantoms could arrange some raids? Possibly help extract a few of those being held—without kicking up too much fuss and scaring off the leaders?”
Tristan leaned back in his chair, his gaze unfocusing as he considered it. The room seemed to hold its breath with him. Finally, he nodded—slow, deliberate.
“It’s possible,” he said. “Carefully done. Taking a few here and there as they move between locations. Making it look like rogue interference, maybe travelers who got lucky. We could make it work.” His voice gained strength as the plan took shape.
“And for the harder topic,” Dad said quietly, tapping his fingers against the table, the sound sharp in the silence. “Would one of them be willing to be…trafficked?”
My breath caught. Understanding hit all at once, heavy and sickening. "You want to follow them to the top."
“Yes,” Dad said, confirming it with a single nod. “So far, that’s the one piece we can’t seem to uncover—where the final destination is, and who’s truly in charge. If we can get someone on the inside, someone who can get us answers…” His eyes swept the table. “We stand a far better chance of ending this sooner.”
The cost of that plan hung unspoken between us.
Tristan didn’t answer right away. Then he straightened, resolve settling over his features like armor. “Let me speak to them,” he said. “I’ll have an answer for you before the ceremony is finished.”
No one argued. No one breathed easy, either.